Voice Part: Baritone
Hometown: Chicago, IL
Solos: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, Good Grief
Major: Biomedical Engineering
Crushed by the pressure of writing a creative and clever biography, Isaac implored of me, Cornfelius Brady, to author this blurb. So who am I? Such a question is the elephant in the room… or should I say Jumbo? Isaac does attend Tufts, right? I’m a semi-professional gong player and I was born and raised in Zambia—well, not raised—but this is irrelephant… or should I say irrJumbo? Isaac does attend Tufts, right? Here I am typing in circles!
I digress; It befuddles me to have been asked to write this, for Isaac and I only shared acquaintance during our years of infancy. We shared a crib for the second, third, and fourth years of our lives (however we were never romantically involved). Also, by ‘crib’ I mean 'tree branch’; in fact we were raised by sloths in the rainforest several leagues northeast of what you likely know as 'Panama City’.
Isaac was a crybaby, to say the least, but he was sort of my friend, to say the most. I remember the time when he knocked me out of our tree… I fell 90 feet to the forest floor and landed on a root. With several shattered thoracic vertebrae, I only narrowly made it into the tree before being carried away by fire ants. Ah, our three-toed brethren treated us well. After 35 months of growing algae in our armpits and mastering the hidden sloth art of telepathy, we were abducted by a group of sloth poachers, shipped in cages to the North, and sold illegally to The Rainforest Cafe™. It wasn’t until a veterinarian visit that those buffoons realized we were human. I last saw Isaac when they sold me to a traveling group of circus freaks. I cried when we separated. Ah, he was covered in fur, and his fingernails must have been 6 inches long! It seems he was since put up for adoption, and now finds himself a scholar in Boston. What in God’s name are the Amalgamates, anyway?