Name: Floops (Floopsiphlylus arachnovrmlite)

Origin: Congo (West Central Africa)

Languages: English, French, and Lingala

Date Of Birth: 05.23.84

Life Expectancy: There has only ever been one captured "Floops," therefore it is difficult to calculate an estimated life expectancy.

Sex: Floops' follow a "don't ask don't tell" guideline.

Diet: Meal worms, grains, and anything marinated in an orange honey glaze or cooked on the grill.

Conspiracy Angle: There is an "unidentified" hanger/warehouse 15 miles east of the iron ore mining field (iron is a common resource exported from Congo) where Floops was discovered. Some curious scientists, academics and clever television paranormal personalities have speculated that "Floops" may have some extra-terrestrial ties. It may be possible that there are some subtle circumstances which indirectly point to a slight probability that Floops is not 100 percent from the planet Earth. The CIA and the Rainforest Action Network declined to comment.

Floops Controversy...

The following is all that remains of a transcript from government file x2342-5 regarding Floops's "true" history. Be warned, what you read may be shocking.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure how it happened. You see I wasn't, and then I was. What I mean to say is that I don't know where I came from. It's all rather strange. A group of college kids found me on a hike (so they say, I'm not sure what they were doing hiking through the mining fields...) I was very small, and they also say that I was nearly dead from dehydration. (The dry season in Congo is especially harsh on new life.) But they took me in and fed me lots of polenta and meal worms. Eventually, like all good things, our relationship had to end. See, they weren't very communicative and it was difficult for them to really meet my needs. So after a long discussion we exchanged "boxes" of eachothers personal belongings that we had collected over the years, I think this was 1989, and I went on my way."

"At first the journey was hard, searching for food, climbing grueling terrains, dodging the scorching sun.... not to mention I was starved for intellectual and social stimulation. Eventually though, I found my way into the pocket of a professor from Berkeley, California, and while he did not directly communicate with me, I did enjoy the conversation he had on the plane with the New Media Lawyers about intellectual property. I digress. Unfortunately, Mr. professor man wasn't so smooth at the customs check and I got confiscated and banished to a grey cell (kind of like this one), with no windows mind you, a concrete floor and a stale bowl of sulfur laced water. Bleachk. No respect, I tell you."

"I stayed in the cell for a number of days, or weeks it could have been, and I had lost at least 3 or 4 ounces before someone realized I might be a special "endangered" species. They called the local enviro-hotline number which is listed on the "in case of emergency" bulletin board next to the donut table in the customs office. But moments before the local hotline representatives got to my cell, I was swooped up by a yip yapping chihuahua and carried to a dark corner of the building..."

"And then I looked that puppy square in the eyes and said, 'you listen here chihuahua baby....' Hey, wait, I'm not finished yet. And then THEY CHANGED MY NAME! Hey! You can't just shut me up like that. This is outrage. I have rights you know. Wait. Wait......" ZZZZzap.

Um, We're sorry Floops but it seems you're having another episode of "over-active" imagination syndrome again. Do you want another shot of the yum yum tasty medicine? Repeat after me, "I grew up in a terrarium in a simple, but elegant, pet store outside Mountain View, California. None of the information previously stated can be verified." Thank you for your patience. That's a good Floops.