This company is a whiz
at making synthetic
shishi

There are few things that surprise us anymore, living, as we do, in a time when we can turn on the television and see contestants in "reality shows" eating the parts of a horse that were not even considered food by the horse-eating people of Upper Mongolia in 10th century A.D. (If "reality" is a place where private parts pass for dinner entrees, then deal me the blotter acid, brother, 'cause I'm ready for Dream Land.)

But I have to admit that I was, if not surprised, then vaguely alarmed to find out that a company has turned the production of synthetic urine into a money-making enterprise.

Of all the substances on Earth, you would think that the one item that wouldn't have to be artificially made would be, well, tinkle. (The term "urine," though scientifically accurate, seems a bit jarring for a Sunday newspaper column.)

I mean, is there a shortage I haven't heard about? There are billions of people on the earth passing a lot of water every day. You'd think that a company seeking to market tinkle as a product would find an adequate supply in the United States alone. This would have to be one enterprise for which an American company would not have to outsource to India and Nicaragua to be successful.

Which brings up the question, What is shishi used for? We know that Gandhi considered it a kind of apˇritif and that small quantities of it likely serve as props to a number of "reality shows," but what are its broader marketing applications? And, more important, why would a synthetic form of peepee be more desirable than the real McCoy?

THE HONOLULU LITE Product Development, Marketing and Bankruptcy Division has discovered that a Kansas company called Dyna-Tek is developing synthetic piddle for the research industry. Researchers, drug-testing labs and other institutions buy thousands of gallons of shishi, mostly to calibrate equipment used to test regular tinkle samples for drugs and other substances.

According to a news report, real tinkle has a number of drawbacks, which are too graphic to go into here. Let's just say that the scientific term "peeee-ewww" is uttered often by researchers using the real deal.

So the synthetic stuff, called inexplicably, Surine, is being sold by Dyna-Tek's owners, Kevin and Sandra Dyches, the only husband-and-wife team in the entire synthetic weewee industry.

"We have been blessed with this," Kevin Dyches told a reporter with just a tad too much enthusiasm. You generally hear couples say they have been "blessed with children," not synthetic tinkle, but, hey, it's a free country.

The Dycheses will not disclose the secret formula for making Surine, which unfortunately sounds a little too much like a sweat-replacing sports drink than you'd want. Competition in the fake-pee market is about to explode, which is an image too terrifying to ponder.

I still say that with so many people in the United States looking for jobs, the government should buy good old "Made in America" organic shishi for its researchers as a way of putting people back to work.

The Dycheses can still provide their fake product to private industry, and I even have a great slogan for them: "We're No. 1!"