A friend of mine had given me some great overclocking tips, so I decided to supe-up my PC. I even bought a new cooling fan for my CPU so that it wouldn't burn itself out. Unfortunately the packaging didn't warn me about what was to prove to be a serious drawback.

Monday night after work I installed it and booted up. The overclocking worked like a charm, and the new fan buzzed happily away. My framerate for Tribes 2 jumped up immensely! I was a happy, happy camper.

But I didn't get to play for long. The neighbor's puppy started barking, and refused to stop. I put on my headphones in order to block out the sound, but half an hour later the incessant noise was too much. It wasn't just the puppy anymore; I could hear howling. Dogs howling -- dozens of them -- from all around the neighborhood. It was as though an air-raid siren was blasting the whole town. I tossed my headphones to the floor in disgust and was about to throw open my window when I reeled backwards in shock.

Six pairs of yellow eyes were staring back at me. Dogs. Big dogs. Standing at my window. Their tongues slowly licking the glass, their noses leaving wet spots. Teeth. Gums. Horror. "EGAH!" I screamed.

After the initial wave of abject terror, I scurried to the kitchen and grabbed some pots and pans. I went upstairs, crawled out my bedroom window, and began banging my noisy kitchen supplies together. "GO! SHOO!" I yelled. The dogs below paced back and forth, barking. My neighbors began to shout obscenities. "BAD DOGS!" I cried. "GET! GO!" Some dude across the street pulled out a megaphone and threatened to beat me. I could hardly hear him over the howling. It was like the whole neighborhood had gone mad. Within minutes the cops showed up, bright red and blue sirens reflecting off of the garages and rooftops of my street.

Unfortunately it was a K9 unit -- fierce german shepherds started straining against their handlers, their slavering fangs glistening in the flashing lights as they jumped and pulled and barked. The police loudspeaker announced that I needed to get down off the roof and stop tormenting the animals. I was about to debate the point when suddenly the entire neighborhood went dark, all but the flashing police lights. That's right -- we had been hit by a California Rolling Power Blackout, plunging the neighborhood into darkness. Immediately the barking ceased; the dogs began playfully snuffling about and sniffing one anothers' butts. But of course my night of gaming was shot -- after talking to the cops a bit I hit the sack. By then the canine population had dispersed as mysteriously as it had arrived.

Checking my email when I got up the next morning was my first problem. See, after that I made the mistake of leaving my computer on all day. By the time I returned from the office that afternoon, my yard had been replaced by a petting zoo. Animals stood on top of animals. Dogs. Dogs everywhere. They had found a way up onto my roof -- I don't know how. A collie was lodged in my aerial, spinning with the wind. Big dogs pawed around my yard; puppies lined every conceivable ledge. The cacophony of their howls and barks sounded, at a reasonable distance, like a fleet of garbage trucks falling from an office tower.

As I drove up, dogs began piling onto my car. A trio of Shih-Tzus were licking my windshield. I tried to open my garage door but -- shortly before my view became completely obstructed by a sheepdog pacing back and forth on my hood -- I saw that a Saint Bernard was stopping it from going up. Desperately I threaded my way through a crawling mass of poodles and terriers to my front door. The tree above shook violently and its limbs were heavy with retrievers.

I pushed open my door and couldn't stop the horde from pouring inside. "Noo! Stop!" I cried, helplessly, as a sea of fur swarmed into my abode. A beagle overturned my CPU case, pulling the plug from the wall, and at once the noise stopped. Suddenly benign, the animals began playfully sniffing around. That's when I caught on.

I realized the horrible potential of the device I had installed, and knew that it must never be powered up again on my machine.

So I sold it to Steve down the street for fifty bucks.