Puzzle Madness

Chapter 132 This is how we humans are (Part 2)

The thunder was blocked by the iron gate, leaving only a faint echo that drifted into the warehouse.

The sound of the torrential rain was as if covered by a thick cloth, leaving only a vague, muffled sound.

The soundproofing here is excellent—it's probably the quietest place in the entire observatory at this moment.
This also made the sound from the television set exceptionally loud; only the dim light cast by the screen was visible.

The dog crawled on the plastic sheet on the ground, took out a small bag of potato chips from its backpack—which it had naturally bought from the vending machine at the provincial library—and then slid back to the screen.

He sat cross-legged, casually stuffing a potato chip into his mouth; the light from the screen illuminated DouDou's face, making it flicker between light and shadow.
"This show is a bit weird—it's really a parody."
-
The strangely shaped rag doll, nicknamed "Little Head," fiddled with the folding table behind it for a while, then suddenly picked up two crudely pieced-together notice boards and held them up in its hands:
Each sign featured a bright red lip, drawn in an exaggerated and crude style.

The man in red, who called himself Dr. Big Cuckoo, was still speaking in his high-pitched voice:

"You may have heard the old saying: [A person has two mouths, one true and one false]."

Tuk Tuk!

Dr. Big Cuckoo tapped the pigeon's beak with his fingertip:

"One of them is the mouth that we eat from every day. Without it, we can't survive."

The little head responded from behind, repeatedly jumping up and down while holding up the sign; the jaws clattered together.

Remember to brush your teeth before bed and after meals!

Dr. Big Cuckoo shook his head, causing the pigeon eyes on his headgear to roll around:
"The other one is on the back of your head: but—you'll have to wait until everyone's a bit older!"

He suddenly stepped back, turned around, and forcefully swept his arms across the folding tabletop, knocking everything off.

Ping Pong Pong!

Tools, instruments, and miscellaneous items were scattered all over the floor; they bounced on the PVC board.

With a crisp, resounding impact, Dr. Big Cuckoo pulled a skull out of nowhere—
The surface is oxidized and yellowed; cracks spread from the eye sockets to the skull: rich in detail, it doesn't look like a teaching aid.

"Look everyone! This is Mr. Skull."

He cradled the weathered skull in his palm, turned it over, and showed it to the camera:
"And this opening at the back is your second mouth—"

This skull is indeed different from that of ordinary people:

There is a diamond-shaped notch, which falls right in the center of the occipital bone; the cut surface is flat and smooth - the lines are straight and regular, as if it was cut by a machine.

There are also a few loose teeth, which are being glued around the gap with transparent tape; this is probably to simulate the state of a living body: after all, without gums, muscles or other soft tissues to connect them, the teeth would definitely fall off the bone.

The little head leaned forward—a thick, yellowish liquid flowed from its mouthparts, clearly not saliva; the rough, deep voice remained fluent:
"Doctor, doctor, what is the purpose of this mouth?"

Dr. Big Cuckoo has found something new—a wet glass jar.

The glass jar contained a sticky substance, its surface gleaming with a dark, watery sheen; it somewhat resembled watered-down modeling clay.

"Little brain, don't rush! Here's a look. First, this is a small clump of brain—it's from you."

"Nonsense, this thing isn't a brain."

DouDou munched on potato chips while pointing at the screen and muttering to herself.

He'd seen far too much brain tissue. Whether it was pig brains or sheep brains from the market, or the real thing inside a skull.
The contents of the glass jar were clearly props; and the crude kind at that.
-
"Ah, no wonder my head has shrunk again!"

The little head raised its five fingers and scratched its hard, smooth antennae—then awkwardly spread its hands.

Hahahahahaha.
A wave of affected laughter emanated from the loudspeakers: it seemed that there were audience seats out of the camera's view.

"Little brain, this is the first time you've met Mr. Skeleton; he probably doesn't know your birthday, does he?"

Dr. Big Cuckoo grabbed a clump of grayish mud and stuffed it into the diamond-shaped opening on the back of the skull—much of it was stuck to it with transparent tape:

“But what if we feed your brain tissue to Mr. Skull?” DouDou leaned closer, squinting as she examined the screen:
"No, you can just stuff it in. What's the point of having teeth then? You don't need to chew. Besides, there's no muscle in the occipital bone area; it's all bone around it."

The two figures, one large and one small, on the screen did not provide the answer to the question.
Dr. Big Cuckoo raised the skull and held it in front of his face.

Then, he awkwardly raised his hand and opened and closed his upper and lower jaws, striking them forcefully; mimicking the action of chewing.

The mortar that had just been stuffed in slipped out through the cracks and fell to the ground.

He pinched his already high-pitched voice, making it even more shrill; the best part was that the skull was speaking:
"Hello everyone, I'm Mr. Skeleton! I just found out that Little Brain's birth date is..."

"[Beep beep beep] Year -- [Beep Month] -- [Beep Day] --"

Suddenly, a series of muffled sounds came from the speaker, drowning out the numbers of the doll's birth date:

"So, little brain? Was Mr. Skull right?"

The small head's jaws were open to the sides, seemingly expressing surprise:

"He's right! Wow, Mr. Skull really knows my birthday!"

Wow! / Clap clap clap clap clap.
The background music was immediately accompanied by mechanical and synchronized applause and cheers; it was clear that it was pre-recorded.

Dr. Big Cuckoo nodded, then tossed the skull behind his head, letting it slam onto the blackboard with a thud.

"So this mouth at the back of the head can serve as both an input and output port for memories!"

"When people need to share memories, their brain tissue automatically proliferates and expands, overflowing from within."

"Then all you have to do is grab some brain tissue from the back of your head and distribute it to everyone like ice cream."

"Want to know someone else's memories? Just turn it upside down and put theirs in the back of your head. Pretty convenient, right?"

Little Brain picked up the conversation—to be honest, DouDou thought this doll's voice was more suited to be the lead singer of a death metal band:
"Wow! So my memories must be cocoa flavored, right?"

"I don't need to write a diary anymore. I can just share my thoughts with everyone!"
-
Is that so? I seem to remember that human memory is stored in some kind of dynamic neural network, or something like that—

He smacked his fingers, stuffed the empty potato chips into the side pocket of his backpack, and took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands.
The two strange guys on TV spend most of their time talking nonsense; they talk about all sorts of fictional, prankish, and nonsensical things.

Speaking of which—those guys from the Asia-Europe Post Office next to the telescope, their backs are pretty much what they described. Oh! So that's it.

Thinking of this, DouDou perked up a bit.

On the screen, the pigeon-headed character was still going on and on:

"When we speak, tons of brain tissue around the world are exchanging information; it's like having a whole brain!"

Wow! / Wow! / Oh my god!

It was just some meaningless censorship, accompanied by pre-recorded exclamations; I have no idea what they were so excited about.

The little one patted its paws in agreement and squeezed next to Dr. Big Cuckoo:
Wow! This is incredible!

"But Doctor! Why is it that among so many creatures in nature, only humans possess this wondrous physical structure?"

Dr. Big Cuckoo takes a step forward, his bright red lab coat taking up most of the frame:

"Then we have to say... that line we say at the end of every episode—"

He shrugged, spread his hands, and tilted his head; striking a helpless pose.

"--There's nothing we can do, that's just how we humans are!"

(End of this chapter)