The Mutant Jello meets its creator after a year apart. Hans is wise and takes precautions.

It's been a year.

On April 26, 2011, Hans, our resident mad scientist, came by the social media and t-shirt monkey's office with a bowl of extra strength jello leftover from mocking up the Edible Gummi iPhone Case. As a joke, he plopped this 3x strength Jello out of the bowl and slapped it onto the glass door.

It stayed up there for 112 days.

We watched in horror as the Mutant Jello sagged, grew crusty, then craggy. A semblance of a mouth appeared on its surface. It curled up around the edges and became more loathsome as time went on, but it did not budge. We documented its ominous progress via Twitter to keep a record of its changes. Just in case it succeeded in dominating the world.

It escaped in August. Four months later.

We proceeded to catch the Jello in a net and hang it from the ceiling for observation. In the year since, we have not seen any further evidence of sentience, though the foreboding we feel as it looms above leads us to believe that it is not dormant, but waiting.

As a birthday present to our benevolent overlord, we decided that it was time to free it from its confines, if only for the day. This is what happened.

This has been the Mutant Jello's home since its escape. The lights would make it a cheery little nest, if the Jello didn't loom so menacingly.

It is down! Please note the gloves worn in careful precaution.

We carefully remove its restraints. Yes, we were afraid for our lives.

No Timmy! Don't touch it, you don't know what will happen!

A close up of the eldritch horror.

Its formerly squishy back has become a calcified and pockmarked landscape.

Yes! We remembered!

After its outing and several escape attempts, Timmy finally returns the Mutant Jello to its home. We rest safe in the knowledge that it is again restrained.

For more pictures, check out The Mutant Jello birthday flickr set. There are close-ups of its mysterious crags and pockmarks if you feel brave enough to embiggen them. We cannot take any responsibility for madness caused by gazing into the abyss, however. So proceed with caution.

Happy birthday, you loathsome thing! You make our lives...interesting. To say the least.