The Scientist and the Flea — An Hungarian Joke
Doctor Jacques Visikov worked alone.
It had been that way since the incident of ’82 when a co-worker accused him of plagiarism. The affronted Dr. V had caught his sleeve in a flexing toaster device and was unable to respond for fear of losing a finger or two. The accuser took his deafening silence as confirmation and stalked off to the local Press.
Dr. V. was often reminded of this incident as he looked down upon his two-finger-stumped hand moments before he would drop a beaker. He repeatedly dropped beakers and other scientific paraphernalia. Dr. V. had never quite adapted to his fingerless handicap.
Born in Budapest, Hungary, a solitary child of vengeful immigrants, Jacques roamed the city’s streets conducting thoughtless experiments on stray cats. Black ones were his favorite. He would slowly torture the feline, making notes of the length of squeals, as the cat desperately tried to claw its way to safety.
Jacques hated cats.
He believed they stole his Mother’s heart, literally. A traumatic incident that left a deep impression on him. One day he had a loving Mother, the next he would find her body slumped in the kitchen with a black cat gorging itself upon her heart. Entrails hanging from its mouth. Paws covered in crimson. The cat had stared directly at Jacques, unblinking, defiant, and hissed with venomous intent.
In his Budapest lab, Dr. V. conducted an experiment.
For some unknown reason, he had decided to measure the height a flea could jump. Xenopsylla cheopis, more commonly known as a rat flea, was the designated hero of his experiment. Dr. V., being the brilliant, singularly digited scientist that he was, managed to teach the flea to jump on que.
He would shout “ugrás” (Hungarian for jump) in a voice penetrable only to rat fleas and it would jump. He named the flea ‘Squid’ on account of it pooping itself after hearing him shout ‘jump’ every hour. To the flea, this singular command was the most frightening sound it had ever heard in its life. Squid was terrified by this unknown presence that boomed and vibrated across his tiny world.
Squid the flea was very consistent. Jump after jump it would be the same height of 30cm.
“Ugrás!”
“Ugrás!”
“Ugrás!”
After six months, Dr. V. grew weary of conducting the same experiment. He had his results. It was time to change things up. He tore one of the legs off Squid the flea. Although shocked to find it no longer had all its legs, Squid continued to perform admirably. Each cry of “Ugrás!” made it jump exactly 30cms.
Dr. V. annexed another leg much the same way Germany annexed Poland. Without warning and very sudden.
He didn’t stop there.
One by one Dr. V. removed each of Squid’s legs. With every missing limb, it continued to jump the same height until there were no more limbs to be torn off. There Squid sat, legless, dumbfounded, and listless at the injustice of a cruel god.
“Ugrás!” commanded Dr. V.
“Ugrás!”
Squid never budged. It was slowly dying a painful death.
Dr. V. concluded that the flea, no matter how many legs, would always jump the same height. However, with no legs, its hearing was severely impaired.