Professor Cramulus is widely hailed as the true inventor of the fuel cell, that rubber thingy that lets you open stubborn jars more easily, Doctor Satori's Baby Knockout Drops For Overwhelmed Parents, the suppressed 20-year-lifespan car tire, the night-light-equipped truss, and the full line of Doc Johnson marital aids up to 1984. He began his broadcasting career retroactively in 1963, building a name for himself via the time machine he invented in the garage. It ran on insulin.
Many claim he was a charlatan, but none have ever mustered the expertise or the personal drive to prove him wrong. He was the "Dogbert" of New Orleans, miraculously stirring up funding for any one of a number of esoteric and sometimes suspect ventures, yet projected such a confident and sunny air that the bucks just kept on coming. Among his failed but fondly remembered credits are the hover-trollies (he kept the grant money), Uncle Cainad's Latex Halloween Wonderland and the Ice Cream Catapault. He furiously knitted obscene tea cozies in his spare time. They fetch top dollar on eBay, especially since he died.
Cram was born to play the synthesizer and was heard to emit many sounds associated with the instrument, even before it was invented. Once he acquired one, the neighbors objected, but they all mysteriously disappeared. He was henceforth surrounded by the deaf, for whom he was an avid advocate. He was also championed by the ASPCA due to his very effective sonic pet sterilization program.
Cram was well-traveled in the worldly sense, but has had his passport revoked after trying to dominate the curry market through the rigging of a bogus lottery based in New Dehli, selling forged Nazi memorabilia in Ecuador, necklaces of gilded penguin feet in the Canary Islands, ersatz Coca-Cola in Vietnam, and "volcano insurance" along the Pacific Rim. He narrowly escaped with his virginity after short-weighting a hash merchant in the United Arab Emirate.
Cram has been a Pope in the Church of Discordianism, a faux Moonie, a traveling Rosicrucian "fund-raiser", an Amway rep, a used tire salesman, a cowboy, an astronaut, a policeman, a film stand-in for Gary Coleman, a REALLY mad scientist, and the manager of a traveling freak show that stunned the South for 12 years (Remember the Devil Chicken?). He was nearly mugged countless times and seemingly attracts miscreants like flies to peanut butter cups, yet was ALWAYS rescued by meteorites which appeared from nowhere and crushed the skulls of his would-be robbers. He has appeared in 12 pornographic films, all of them animated. He often sported a really nice, hand-stitched, spangle-bedecked codpiece he made himself. It shot little gas pellets when he would get in a tight spot on the street.
Cram was the first known person to convert an ancient Chevrolet (affectionately known as "Luby") over to the use of liquified natural gas as a propellant. It cornered like a sonofabitch. It was a limited success, as the 12-foot flames that shot out the back like the Batmobile led to numerous complaints of damaged paint jobs and fried pets. Just prior to the implimentation of a class-action suit for damages, the professor's prototype exploded. Fortunately, he was hurled clear, landing in the middle of an open-air pillow sale. Charges were dropped when the city considered it to be a public service that the flaming wreckage killed 4 mimes in the park. He owned a full "Iron Man" suit, just like in the movie, but he couldn't seem to get the left rocket boot to work dependably, so he flew around in great loops a lot.
He regretted inventing China, calling it his greatest failure. "It just got out of hand at the beginning and snowballed before I could slam on the brakes. I'm really sorry." said Cram. His personal magnetism was such that in his presence, strong men flinched, women swooned, and dogs tried to dig holes in hardwood floors. He got away with so much because he created the chili dog, which made him a perennial favorite with the Yahoos.
Part of his appeal on the Prince of Darkness Media Network resulted from the large numbers of people who battled outside the Viacom Studios, half to remove him, half to keep him there. The fights were broadcast overnight on Fox and bettors generated amazing amounts of cash on the sidelines, trying to settle which group will win out that night. His cut enabled him to continue his frightening takes on the entrepeneurial spirit. He always had to exit the building via the emergency magnet-train chute, which opens at an undisclosed location in Tarryton.
There are none like him, which is good, as the world cannot be reasonably expected to another of his kind. You couldn't look away. Well, you could look away, but you'd have to keep the camphor-soaked rag over your mouth, as his presence lingered like the memory of your first lousy lay.
Where's my coffin-cam, you bastards? I KNOW one of you HAS it, and I need it to make sure he stays in his fucking hole!
