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By Sylverstone, on January 29th, 2005 On the first day God created the dog. God said, "Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. I will give you a life span of twenty years."
The dog said, "That’s too long to be barking. Give me ten years and I’ll give you back the other ten." So God agreed.
On the second day God created the monkey. God said, "Entertain people, do monkey tricks, make them laugh. I’ll give you a twenty-year life span."
The monkey said, "How boring. Monkey tricks for twenty years? I don’t think so. Dog gave you back ten, so that’s what I’ll do too, okay?" And God agreed.
On the third day God created the cow. God said, "You must go to the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer. I will give you a life span of sixty years."
The cow said, "That’s kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. Let me have twenty and I’ll give back the other forty." And God agreed again.
On the fourth day God created man. God said, "Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. I’ll give you twenty years."
Man said, "What? Only twenty years?! Tell you what, I’ll take my twenty, and the forty the cow gave back and the ten the monkey gave back and the ten the dog gave back…that makes eighty, okay?"
"Okay", said God, "You’ve got a deal."
So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play, and enjoy ourselves; for the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family; for the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren; and for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.
Life has now been explained to you.
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on January 26th, 2005 Congratulations on your victory over all us non-evangelicals.
Actually, we’re a bit ticked off here in California, so we’re leaving.
California will now be its own country. And we’re taking all the Blue States with us. In case you are not aware, that includes Hawaii,Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, and all of the North East.
We spoke to God, and she agrees that this split will be beneficial to almost everybody, and especially to us in the new country of California. In fact, God is so excited about it, she’s going to shift the whole country at 4:30 pm EST next Friday. Therefore, please let everyone know they need to be back in their states by then. So you get Texas and all the former slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get Elliot Spitzer. You get Ken Lay.
(Okay, we have to keep the Governator; we can live with that.) We get the Statue of Liberty. You get OpryLand. We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom. We get Harvard. You get Ole Miss. We get 85% of America’s venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get all the technological innovation in Alabama. We get about two-thirds of the tax revenue, and you get to make the red states pay their fair share. Since our divorce rate is 22% lower than the Christian coalition’s, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms to support, and we know how much you like that. Did I mention we produce about 70% of the nation’s veggies? But heck the only greens the Bible-thumpers eat are the pickles on their Big Macs. Oh yeah, another thing, don’t plan on serving California wine at your state dinners. From now on it’s imported French wine for you. Ouch, bet that hurts. Just so we’re clear, the country of California will be pro-choice and anti-war. Speaking of war, we’re going to want all Blue States citizens back from Iraq. If you need people to fight, just ask your evangelicals. They have tons of kids they’re willing to send to their deaths for absolutely no purpose. And they don’t care if you don’t show pictures of their kids’ caskets coming home. Anyway, we wish you all the best in the next four years and we hope, really hope, you find those missing weapons of mass destruction. Soon.
Sincerely, California
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on January 25th, 2005 Dear President Bush:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from you and understand why you would propose and support a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage. As you said, “in the eyes of God marriage is based between a man a woman.” I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination… End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God’s Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this law applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness – Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord – Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination – Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this? Are there ‘degrees’ of abomination?
7. Lev.21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16.
Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
Mr. Bush, I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging.
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on August 20th, 2004 Once upon a time, God was missing for six days.
Eventually, Michael, the archangel, found him, resting on the seventh day. He inquired of God. “Where have you been?”
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction, and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, “Look, Michael. Look what I’ve made.”
Archangel Michael looked puzzled, and said, “What is it?”
“It’s a planet,” replied God, “and I’ve put Life on it. I’m going to call it Earth and it’s going to be a great place of balance.”
“Balance?” inquired Michael, still confused.
God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. “For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, while southern Europe is going to be poor. Over there I’ve placed a continent of white people, and over there is a continent of black people. Balance in all things,” God continued pointing to different countries. “This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice.”
The Archangel, impressed by God’s work, then pointed to a land area and said, “What’s that one?”
“Ah,” said God “That’s Washington State, the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful mountains, rivers and streams, lakes, forests, hills, plains, and coulees. The people from Washington State are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent, and humorous, and they are going to be found traveling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking, high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats, and carriers of peace.”
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration, but then proclaimed, “What about balance, God? You said there would be balance.”
God smiled, “There is another Washington…wait until you see the idiots I put there.”
*snicker*
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on April 3rd, 2004 “Excuse me, Sir.”
“Is that you again, Moses?”
“I’m afraid it is, Sir.”
“What is it this time, Moses; more computer problems?”
“How did you guess?”
“I don’t have to guess, Moses. Remember ?”
“Oh, yes; I forgot.”
“Tell me what you want, Moses.”
“But you already know, Sir. Remember?”
“Moses!”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Well, go ahead, Moses; spit it out.”
“Well, I have a question, Sir. You know those ten ‘things’ you sent me via e-mail?”
“You mean the Ten Commandments, Moses?”
“That’s it. I was wondering if they are important.”
“What do you mean ‘if they are important,’ Moses? Of course, they are important. Otherwise, I would not have sent them to you.”
“Well, sorry, Sir, but I lost them. I could say the dog ate them; but, of course, you would see right through that.”
“What do you mean you ‘lost them’? Are you trying to tell me you didn’t save them, Moses?”
“No, Sir; I forgot.”
“You should always save, Moses.”
“Yes, I know. You told me that before. I was going to save them, but I forgot. I did forward them to some people before I lost them though.”
“And did you hear back from any of them?”
“You already know I did. There was the one guy who said he never uses ‘shalt not.’ May he change the words a little bit?”
“Yes, Moses, as long as he does not change the meaning.”
“And what about the guy who thought your stance was a little harsh, and recommended calling them the ‘Ten Suggestions,’ or letting people pick one or two to try for a while?”
“Moses, I will act as if I did not hear that.”
“I think that means ‘no.’ Well, what about the guy who said I was scamming him?”
“I think the term is ‘spamming,’ Moses.”
“Oh, yes. I E-mailed him back and told him I don’t even eat that stuff, and I have no idea how you can send it to someone through a computer.”
“And what did he say?”
“You know what he said. He used Your name in vain. You don’t think he might have sent me one of those — err — plagues, and that’s the reason I lost those ten ‘things’, do you?”
“They are not plagues; they are called ‘viruses,’ Moses.”
“Whatever! This computer stuff is just too much for me. Can we go back to those stone tablets? It was hard on my back taking them out and reading them each day, but at least I never lost them.”
“We will do it the new way, Moses; using computers!!”
“I was afraid you would say that, Sir.”
“Moses, what did I tell you to do if you messed up?”
“You told me to hold up this rat and point it toward the computer.”
“It’s a mouse, Moses, not a rat. Mouse! Mouse! And did you do that?”
“No, I decided to try calling technical support first. After all, who knows more about this stuff than you? And I really like your hours. By the way, Sir, did Noah have two of these mice on the ark?”
“No, Moses.”
“One other thing. Why did you not name them ‘frog s’ instead of ‘mice,’ because did you not tell me the thing they sit on is a pad?”
“I did not name them, Moses. Man did, and you can call yours a frog if you want to.”
“Oh, that explains it. I bet some woman told Adam to call it a mouse. After all, was it not a woman who named one of the computers ‘Apple?’”
“Say good night, Moses.”
“Wait a minute, Sir. I am pointing the mouse, and it seems to be working. Yes, a couple of the ten ‘things’ have come back.”
“Which ones are they, Moses?”
“Let me see.
‘Thou shalt not steal from any grave an image’ and ‘Thou shalt not uncover Thy neighbor’s wife.’”
“Turn the computer off, Moses. I’m sending you another set of stone tablets.”
heh.
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on April 1st, 2004 Dear Susan…
(no, not azrayel)
I know the counselor said we shouldn’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I couldn’t wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact.
In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. I don’t care about looking bad anymore. I don’t care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says…
“There’s no one like you, Susan.” I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Ithaca Bar and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19, with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Jugs you wouldn’t believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man’s dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean?
Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes. But you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Susan? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I Don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some ****ling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me.
It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there, Susan, to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Susan, I’m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met in Upper Side last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we’re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad too. ‘Cause I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Susan ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex aid.”
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time.
She’s given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together, Susan, She really is. So we’re drinking in a hot bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into the whole anal thing and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us.
But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It’s true, Susan. In your heart you know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think we can.
If you feel the same please, please, please let me know, otherwise, can you let me know where the remote control is.
John
heh.
— end of line —
By Sylverstone, on February 24th, 2004 Operator: “Thank you for calling Pizza Hut. May I have your…”
Customer: “Hi, I’d like to order.”
Operator: “May I have your NIDN first, sir?”
Customer: “My National ID Number, yeah, hold on, eh, it’s 6102049998-45-54610.”
Operator: “Thank you, Mr. Sheehan. I see you live at 1742 Meadowland Drive, and the phone number’s 494-2366. Your office number over at Lincoln Insurance is 745-2302 and your cell number’s 266-2566. Which number are you calling from, sir?”
Customer: “Huh? I’m at home. Where d’ya get all this information?”
Operator: “We’re wired into the system, sir.”
Customer: (Sighs) “Oh, well, I’d like to order a couple of your All-Meat Special pizzas…”
Operator: “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.”
Customer: “Whaddya mean?”
Operator: “Sir, your medical records indicate that you’ve got very high blood pressure and extremely high cholesterol. Your National Health Care provider won’t allow such an unhealthy choice.”
Customer: “Damn. What do you recommend, then?”
Operator: “You might try our low-fat Soybean Yogurt Pizza. I’m sure you’ll like it”
Customer: “What makes you think I’d like something like that?”
Operator: “Well, you checked out ‘Gourmet Soybean Recipes’ from your local library last week, sir. That’s why I made the suggestion.”
Customer: “All right, all right. Give me two family-sized ones, then. What’s the damage?”
Operator: “That should be plenty for you, your wife and your four kids, sir. The ‘damage,’ as you put it, heh, heh, comes to $49.99.”
Customer: “Lemme give you my credit card number.”
Operator: “I’m sorry sir, but I’m afraid you’ll have to pay in cash. Your credit card balance is over its limit.”
Customer: “I’ll run over to the ATM and get some cash before your driver gets here.”
Operator: “That won’t work either, sir. Your checking account’s overdrawn.”
Customer: “Never mind. Just send the pizzas. I’ll have the cash ready. How long will it take?”
Operator: “We’re running a little behind, sir. It’ll be about 45 minutes, sir. If you’re in a hurry you might want to pick’em up while you’re out getting the cash, but carrying pizzas on a motorcycle can be a little awkward.”
Customer: “How the hell do you know I’m riding a bike?”
Operator: “It says here you’re in arrears on your car payments, so your car got repo’ed. But your Harley’s paid up, so I just assumed that you’d be using it.
Customer: “@#%/$@&?#!”
Operator: “I’d advise watching your language, sir. You’ve already got a July 2006 conviction for cussing out a cop.”
Customer: (Speechless)
Operator: “Will there be anything else, sir?”
Customer: “No, nothing. Oh, yeah, don’t forget the two free liters of Coke your ad says I get with the pizzas.”
Operator: “I’m sorry sir, but our ad’s exclusionary clause prevents us from offering free soda to diabetics.”
By Sylverstone, on January 28th, 2004 *7:42PM* “WWII for the 1337″
*7:42PM* Hitler is talking to these people
*7:42PM* and he’s like
*7:43PM* “ph34r, i r 1337″
*7:43PM* and they are all like, “omgz k”
*7:43PM* thus, hitler rises to power in germany
*7:43PM* now
*7:43PM* the british and french are like “wtf”
*7:43PM* so they talk to him
*7:43PM* and they’re like “d00d wtf r u doing”
*7:43PM* now
*7:44PM* well
*7:44PM* we’ll skip in the middle
*7:44PM* September 1st, 1939
*7:44PM* Hitler invades poland
*7:44PM* the polish are like “omg wtf”
*7:44PM* and the germans are like “ph34r”
*7:44PM* polish are like “wtf no”
*7:44PM* and then the germans pwn them all
*7:44PM* poland falls to the germans
*7:45PM* next they march through belgium to go around the maginot line
*7:45PM* the french thought they were 1337 with that maginot line, but they were just n00bs
*7:45PM* anyhow
*7:45PM* with hitler marching through neutral belgium, the british are like “omg wtf”
*7:45PM* eventually, hitler gets through poland and attacks france, bypassing the maginot line
*7:45PM* the french are like “omg h4x”
*7:46PM* and the germans are, again, like “ph34r”
*7:46PM* France falls
*7:46PM* Britain now becomes involved in active combat against the germans
*7:46PM* now, there are about 300,000 british and french soldiers on the beaches of dunkirk
*7:47PM* and the germans are coming, they’re all like “omgz pwn”
*7:47PM* and winston churchill says “n00bs, no”
*7:47PM* then all the british begin h4xing
*7:47PM* most of those 300,000 men are rescued and pwn another day
*7:47PM* things quiet down for a bit
*7:48PM* anyway
*7:48PM* things are quiet until hitler decides he’d like to invade russia
*7:48PM* so, he does
*7:48PM* the russians are like “OMG WTF D00DZ, STOP TKING”
*7:48PM* and the germans are still like “omg ph34r n00bz”
*7:48PM* the russians fall back, all the way to moscow
*7:48PM* and then they all begin h4xing, which brings on the russian winter
*7:49PM* the germans are like “wtf, h4x”
*7:49PM* now, the russians are like “omgz pwn”
*7:49PM* and so, the russians begin pushing the germans out of the soviet union
*7:49PM* so there you have it in europe
*7:49PM* but what’s happening in the pacific?
*7:50PM* now
*7:50PM* japanese relations with the US had been deteriorating
*7:50PM* in fact, the japanese bought scrap metal off us up until a few days before pearl harbor
*7:50PM* the US was just like “omgz k”
*7:51PM* and the japs were like “thx”
*7:51PM* suddenly, on december 7th, the japanese attack pearl harbor, hawaii
*7:51PM* the americans are like “WTF”
*7:51PM* and the japanese, like their german allies, are all “omgz ph34r”
*7:51PM* seeing as the US had not developed proper h4x yet, they were unable to repel the onslaught
*7:52PM* roosevelt orders immediate h4xing, and war is declared upon the empire of japan
*7:52PM* the japanese were very 1337
*7:52PM* they really knew how to h4x0rz
*7:53PM* so the us suffered a string of defeats
*7:53PM* until an obscure island known as midway becomes a very pivotal point on the map
*7:53PM* the japanese sent out a 1337 battle fleet to take and occupy midway
*7:54PM* the americans, now becoming fluent in their h4xing abilities, managed to h4x the japanese code
*7:54PM* and learned of the plot
*7:54PM* so they sent out some h4xing vessels…er..i mean aircraft carriers, destroyers, and one or two submarines to deal with the japanese threat
*7:54PM* the japanese began their attack on midway
*7:55PM* they immediately were like “WTF are these planez0rz and shipz0rz doing here?”
*7:55PM* the americans are now like “omgz pwn”
*7:55PM* they now had the h4x with them, and sunkz0rz four front line japanese aircraft carriers, a major defeat for the japanese
*7:56PM* from this point on, the japanese would be playing a defensive battle for the rest of the war
*7:56PM* now, back to europe
*7:56PM* the year is now 1944
*7:56PM* the US 8th air force has been pwning the german industry by the air for some time now
*7:56PM* the british have been pwning them at night
*7:57PM* eisenhower the 1337 feels that it is time to stage the attack on fortress europe
*7:57PM* and thus, on june 6, 1944, operation overlord commenced
*7:58PM* the germans were like “wtf r they doing here”, because we had h4xed them into believing the landing sites would be at calaise, far from the actual landing zones
*7:58PM* still, they put up a very 1337 fight
*7:58PM* rommel had wanted to use his 1337 panzer divisions to drive the allies into the sea
*7:58PM* but hitler was like “Wtf n00b, no, stfu”
*7:59PM* because of this, the allies were able to establish a beachhead and begin landing their massive amounts of war materiel
*7:59PM* after the beaches, facing the allies were many large bushes called bocage
*7:59PM* crisscrossing the french countryside
*8:00PM* the germans camped in them, waiting to pwn anyone who dared to go through
*8:00PM* this posed a severe problem for the allies
*8:00PM* some ingenious engineers, however, devised a contraption that, when fitted to the hull of a tank, could cut through the dense bocage
*8:01PM* when the germans first encountered vehicles with these contraptions, they were like “omgz wtf, h4x0rz”
*8:01PM* the americans were like “omgz pwn”
*8:01PM* though the fight was still tough, and many allied tanks and men were lost
*8:02PM* but the germans would not be lasting much longer
*8:02PM* with 1337 allied air cover now completely pwning the skies, they could now concentrate on close air support
*8:02PM* the germans now got to experience this on the receiving end
*8:02PM* needless to say, they were all going “omg wtf”
*8:03PM* with the russians having pushed the germans completely out of their homeland, the end was near for the third reich
*8:03PM* soon the allies reached the rhine river
*8:03PM* the germans, crafty as ever, blew up all the bridges across
*8:03PM* except one
*8:03PM* then some 1337 allies in some jeepz0rz ran across it
*8:03PM* the germans were like “OMGZ H4X”
*8:04PM* the allies had entered germany itself
*8:04PM* much fighting ensued, and eventually they reached berlin after much pwnage being dealt from both sides
*8:04PM* the russians, vengeful as ever, were allowed to enter berlin first
*8:04PM* where they proceeded to pwn everything, no matter what in hell it was
*8:05PM* hitler comes to his senses and goes “wtf…”
*8:05PM* he and his mistress commit suicide in an underground bunker deep in germany
*8:05PM* the war in europe is over.
*8:06PM* meanwhile in the pacific…..
*8:06PM* with the americans having dealt a major blow to the japanese at midway, they press their luck further
*8:06PM* they begin pwning islands
*8:06PM* island after island falls
*8:06PM* iwo jima falls
*8:06PM* okinawa falls
*8:07PM* not wanting to risk the insanely high casualty rate of an invasion of japan, the president decides to drop two atomic bombs
*8:07PM* the japanese surrender
*8:07PM* world war two is over
*8:07PM* everyone goes home and gets laid
*8:07PM* the end
By Sylverstone, on January 15th, 2004 the return of the king (condensed), as told by molly winter…
A RIVER, CENTURIES AGO
SMEAGOL and DEAGOL find the Ring and start fighting over it.
DEAGOL: Mine!
SMEAGOL: Mine!
DEAGOL: Mine!
SMEAGOL: Mine!
DEAGOL: Yours. (dies)
UNOFFICIAL ENTRANCE TO MORDOR
SAM: We can’t trust Gollum! He’s out to kill us!
FRODO: Really, Sam, you and your imagination. I suppose YOU have a better plan for getting into Mordor?
SAM: As a matter of fact I do. Hang gliding.
FRODO: Excuse me?
SAM: Hang gliding. It’s all the rage in the Southfarthing. We make a big kite-like frame out of a lightweight wood, like balsa, if you follow me, and stretch some muslin across it; then we climb to the top of one of these mountains, wait for a warm updraft -
FRODO: I am NOT listening to this.
FRODO grabs GOLLUM’s hand and walks away.
EDORAS
LEGOLAS: The sky wears a film of gauze. The night air breathes infamy. Deceit weaves itself around my fingernails.
ARAGORN: What the hell is that? Poetry? I pay you to do two things: shoot stuff, and look pretty. If you have something to tell me, tell me in normal words.
LEGOLAS: Fine. S-A-U-R-O-N is H-E-R-E. Simple enough for you, numbskull?
(MEANWHILE, INSIDE IN EDORAS)
PIPPIN: I’m going to go look at that crystal bowling-ball thingy.
MERRY: Bad idea, Pip.
PIPPIN: No, I think it’s a good idea.
MERRY: Really seriously bad idea.
PIPPIN: No, it’ll be fine. See? I just pick it up and AAAAHHHHH!!
ENTIRE CITY wakes up.
GANDALF: Fool of a Took! Now I must take you on a horseback ride.
PIPPIN: Okay! Can Merry come?
GANDALF: No.
MERRY: See what you did? Ugh. Why do I always hang out with the stupid ones?
ROHIRRIM CAMP
EOWYN: Here, little fellow. Put this armor on.
MERRY: Thanks much, my lady. Ooh, I don’t think you fastened my belt right. Could you put your hands there again? …Ahh, that’s it; right there…
EOMER: Wow, sis, you are getting desperate.
EOWYN: Look at this hobbit: can you honestly tell me he isn’t brave and handsome, and doesn’t inspire your courage?
EOMER: (snicker) Uh, sure. Sure, he’s great. Yeah. (gives MERRY thumbs-up sign) You go, dude.
MINAS TIRITH
GANDALF: Don’t say anything, Pippin. Hi, Denethor!
DENETHOR: Hi. My favorite son is dead and my life sucks.
PIPPIN: That’s all my fault! I’ll fight for you!
GANDALF: Agh. WHAT did I say, Pippin? What did I say?
ROHIRRIM CAMP
ELROND: So, we brought you this sword.
PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ THE BOOK: About freaking time.
ARAGORN: Shiny. Thanks.
ELROND: Oh, and by the way, Arwen’s sick. The longer the Ring goes undestroyed, the weaker she gets.
ARAGORN: Come off it. That’s such a crock. There’s no connection between her and the Ring.
ELROND: Yeah, well, I guess they don’t teach you everything in Ranger school. It’s just TRUE, okay? Now go pick up a ghost army and save your grimy unshaven people.
ROHIRRIM CAMP, LATER
EOWYN: I love you.
ARAGORN: Me? What? Oh. Um…listen, Ellen…
EOWYN: Eowyn.
ARAGORN: Right, Eowyn. You’re a fine-looking woman, and I’m sure somebody will say to you someday, “Erin -”
EOWYN: *Eowyn*.
ARAGORN: “Eowyn…you’re the only woman for me. Be my wife.”
EOWYN: But it won’t be you.
ARAGORN: Exactly! It won’t be me. I’m glad we understand each other. Well kiddo, I’ve got to go. The Paths of the Dead beckon.
EOWYN: Don’t do it! You’ll never survive!
ARAGORN: Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.
MINAS TIRITH
PIPPIN: Any chance I can get out of fighting, Gandalf?
GANDALF: Probably not.
PIPPIN: Are Frodo and Sam going to make it?
GANDALF: Don’t think so.
PIPPIN: Isn’t there anything you can say to cheer me up?
GANDALF: Maybe you’ll get decapitated. That should be quick and painless.
PIPPIN: Oh. Uh, thanks.
PATHS OF THE DEAD
GHOST: Hello! Welcome to the Paths of the Dead. We ask that you keep your hands and arms to yourselves at all times, as the ceiling is low in places, and fighting back will only prolong your ghastly death. Unless of course you are the heir of Isildur, in which case you and your party get a free pass.
ARAGORN: Hey, that’s convenient. I AM the heir of Isildur!
GHOST: Got any ID?
ARAGORN: Sure, hang on a sec.
ARAGORN starts digging through his knapsack for his Ranger license.
AUDIENCE: I’m just not the least bit worried for them.
GHOST: (examines license) Okay, you’re legit. Ooh, hang on: I’m sorry, but you must be at least as tall as this sign to enter. This kid with the beard can’t come.
GIMLI: I’m a dwarf, not a child, you transparent twit.
ARAGORN: Really, he has to come along. He catches all the knee-level dangers for us.
LEGOLAS: Indeed, if we leave him behind, I do not know who I will taunt for the rest of the journey.
GHOST: Fine, fine. Let’s go.
MINAS TIRITH
FARAMIR: Anything I can do for you, Dad?
DENETHOR: Yeah. Go die.
FARAMIR: Nice. Real nice.
FARAMIR storms out.
DENETHOR: Sing me a song, short man.
PIPPIN: I really don’t feel like it.
DENETHOR: Aw, come on! Sing! Here’s the karaoke song book – pick something.
PIPPIN: Well, if you insist… (clears throat) “You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…and there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips…”
OUTSIDE MINAS TIRITH
FARAMIR leads the charge against the latest forces of Mordor.
FARAMIR: Who’s your daddy?? HUH?? Who’s your- ow.
FARAMIR, with arrows sticking through him, falls off horse.
PIPPIN (V.O.): “You’re trying hard not to show it…”
GANDALF and DENETHOR (V.O.): “Bay-beh…”
PIPPIN (V.O.): “But bay-beh, baby I know it!…”
MINAS TIRITH
PIPPIN breaks down crying.
PIPPIN: I’m sorry. That song always gets to me. I miss Merry…
DENETHOR: What’s that noise outside? Is that the sound of my good-for-nothing son getting dragged into the city by horses?
GANDALF: Yes, it appears to be. As I mentioned, Mordor is a serious threat and now most of your soldiers are dead.
DENETHOR: Crap! Run, everybody, run!
GANDALF: Oh, shut up.
GANDALF clocks DENETHOR and takes over.
VICINITY OF CIRITH UNGOL
GOLLUM: Dead hobbitses…(mutter mutter)…won’t be long now…(mutter mutter)…will try wearing Ring on toe this time; yes, precious; very beautiful…
SAM: Hey! I heard that!
FRODO: Heard what?
GOLLUM: Nothing, Master! Fat hobbit wants Ring; yes, Master.
SAM: I do not!
FRODO: I think maybe you do. Gollum wouldn’t lie to me, after all.
SAM: He’s trying to kill us! We’re walking straight into a trap. I’m not going one step further.
FRODO: Leave, then. I’m sick of your paranoid delusions anyhow.
SAM: But I…
FRODO: Go on – get out of here. Good riddance.
SAM: But you…
FRODO: Have a nice death.
FRODO stomps off. SAM stays behind, weeping piteously.
PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ THE BOOK: …the f**k??
CREEPY CAVE
FRODO gets tangled in a gigantic spider-web.
FRODO: Egads! Does this mean a gigantic spider lives here?
GOLLUM: Ha ha! Smeagol tricked you, ssstupid hobbit! Did Master know “gullible” was not in dictionary?
FRODO: Oh, dear. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to send Sam away.
AUDIENCE: Duh!
SHELOB appears and starts pounding down the tunnel. FRODO lights up the star-glass and gives us an all-too-clear look at her.
ARACHNOPHOBES IN AUDIENCE: Oh…dear…God.
FRODO cuts himself loose and runs like hell – but, being FRODO, falls down.
GOLLUM jumps on him.
GOLLUM: Jussst kidding about “ssstupid” comment! Nice master! Hold still so spider can eat you, yes yes.
FRODO: I have a different plan, actually.
FRODO flings GOLLUM down an abyss.
PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE BOOK: You know, it’s interesting: even though I’ve read the book, I have no idea what’s going on.
MINAS TIRITH
DENETHOR: So here’s my plan: a barbecue. Featuring smoked and roasted stewards of Gondor. Obey me or die, people!
PIPPIN: Ohhh-kay, crazy man alert.
PIPPIN runs off to get help. DENETHOR gets busy pouring flammable stuff all over himself and FARAMIR.
DROOLING FANGIRLS: Oooh! Unconscious Faramir covered in oil! The things I could do with THAT scenario!
VICINITY OF CIRITH UNGOL
SHELOB is hovering above FRODO, who is oblivious.
AUDIENCE: (apparently thinking they’re at a horror film) Look up! LOOK UP!! OH MY GOD, LOOK UP!!
FRODO gets caught and bitten, and attractively foams at the mouth.
SHELOB wraps him up in spider-silk.
ARACHNOPHOBES are whimpering somewhere under their theatre seats.
SAM shows up and saves day, stabbing SHELOB with borrowed sword.
SAM: Whew. All right, Mr. Frodo, I know I’ve teased you about running from spiders before, but I don’t blame you for that one. Er, Mr. Frodo? (prod) Frodo?…
FRODO is not looking good. SAM begins weeping and cradling him.
SENTIMENTAL BOOK-READERS: Say “Don’t go where I can’t follow.” Say “Don’t go where I can’t follow.” Say “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
SAM: Don’t go where I can’t follow!
SENTIMENTAL BOOK-READERS: Woohoo! All right; I can die happy now.
SAM: Uh-oh; Orcs. Got to cut this short. So long, sir. (skitters and hides)
ORCS start prodding FRODO.
ORC #73: How long has he been dead?
ORC #89: Dead? Any COMPLETE IDIOT could tell he’s not dead!
SAM: What??
ORC #42: Then let’s take him upstairs and strip him. We should at least get to keep the change in his pockets.
SAM: Are you telling me…I had a chance…to give Mr. Frodo mouth-to-mouth…and I DIDN’T TAKE IT??
SAM flies into a murderous rage, killing about eighty Orcs in the space of half a minute.
OUTSIDE MINAS TIRITH
Black Ships sail up, with ARAGORN, LEGOLAS, GIMLI, and DEAD PEOPLE aboard, and save the day.
AUDIENCE: Oh, come on. Orlando Bloom as the token pretty-boy on a ship full of ghosts – yeah, we saw that over the summer. Next!
TOWER OF CIRITH UNGOL
SAM, lost, stops in a stairwell and sings out:
SAM: “The stars at night…are clear and bright…”
FRODO’S VOICE: (weak) “…deep in the heart of Texas…”
SAM: Woohoo!
SAM charges that direction and kills an Orc mid-whip. FRODO is lying in a swoon on a heap of rags, half-naked.
DROOLING FANGIRLS: Oh, HECK yeah! Come on, sugar, get those hands out of the way.
OTHER AUDIENCE MEMBERS: Eww! You’re corrupting my immaculate Tolkien experience!
SAM: Darling! You’re alive!
FRODO: Sam, dear…if we ever get back to the Shire, remind me to enroll you in a First Aid course. We really must review how to find a pulse.
PELENNOR FIELDS
MOLLY: Quite a lot of intense fighting takes place here. Once again I shall try to sum up the highlights.
WITCH KING: (evil shriek)
THEODEN: Aaaagh!
EOWYN: Roaaaar!
MERRY: Um…roar! Yes! What she said!
WITCH KING delivers smackdown.
MERRY and EOWYN: Ow!
MERRY and EOWYN deliver counter-smackdown.
WITCH KING: Ow.
WITCH KING dies. EOWYN collapses. MERRY wanders off somewhere.
PIPPIN finds him under an Orc.
PIPPIN: Merry! Long time no see!
MERRY: Hello, Pippin. (cough) Would you believe I…got lucky with a hot Rohirrim chickie?
PIPPIN: Er…no. No, Merry, I wouldn’t. I’m sorry; I want to humor you when you’re this hurt; but no, that’s really quite beyond the realm of credibility.
MERRY: Then how do you explain this…(cough)…lipstick on my armor?
PIPPIN: (cry of disbelief) No fair! And all I got was an oily unconscious steward!
MORDOR
FRODO and SAM stumble into view wearing Orc gear. AUDIENCE bursts into giggles.
AUDIENCE: Somehow I don’t think this is supposed to be funny, but it is.
FRODO: I’m forlorn. Desolate. Wretched.
SAM: Very eloquent, sir. Here I was just going to say, “This place sucks.”
FRODO: I hate wearing shoes. Especially iron shoes. And this mask smells funny.
SAM: Well, that’s to be expected.
FRODO swoons, draping himself over a boulder.
FRODO: Let me die. I cannot go on.
SAM: Sure you can. Think of the Shire.
FRODO: It never existed. You’re lying.
SAM: Now, what were the rules we set?
FRODO: (humble) No more calling you a liar?
SAM: That’s right. Now let’s get you up.
(Five minutes later)
FRODO stumbles to his knees and starts beating his head against a rock.
FRODO: This is hopeless! We’re doomed. We should have given the bloody thing to the Gondor brothers.
SAM inserts himself between FRODO and rock.
SAM: Sir. Remember our agreement.
FRODO: (humble) No wigging out?
SAM: That’s right. Now will you stop wigging out if I move away from the rock?
FRODO: Yes.
(Five minutes later)
FRODO flings himself onto the ground and writhes in agony.
FRODO: I can’t bear it. Life is horrid. My heart is shriveled and my soul is dead. The blackness of despair shrouds my eyes. I choke on pain and anguish.
SAM: That’s it – no more listening to The Cure for you.
SAM picks FRODO up, slings him over his shoulder, and carries him up the mountain.
MINAS TIRITH
GANDALF: Now I guess it’s time to knock on death’s door and invite them out to battle. Draw Sauron’s eye to us instead of Frodo.
ARAGORN: All in the hopes of giving Sam and Frodo a chance.
LEGOLAS: A diversion.
ARAGORN: Yeah, thanks, Paraphrase Boy.
MOUNT DOOM
GOLLUM: Wait! Lassst chance! You know you want to sssee how pretty Ring looks on my toe, you know you do! Give it to us!
SAM: How about I pound your head with a rock instead?
FRODO: Know what? Change of plans. I’m not throwing it into the volcano.
SAM: Yes you are.
FRODO: No, I have a new idea: I’m going to take over the world. All shall love me and despair.
SAM: But I already love you and despair.
GOLLUM: Smeagol will take over world with you, yes yes! Give it to us!
FRODO: No!
GOLLUM: Yes!
FRODO: NO!
GOLLUM: YES! (chomp)
FRODO: Ow!!
GOLLUM falls triumphantly into fiery chasm from whence Ring came, taking FRODO’s finger and the Ring with him. SAM hauls FRODO out of the special Place To Throw Stuff Into Lava room. They find temporary refuge from flowing molten rock on a boulder.
FRODO: Hey, I can remember the Shire again! Small comfort, considering we seem to have about five minutes to live.
SAM: It’s a shame. Now I’ll never get to marry Rosie Cotton.
FRODO: (startled) YOU want to marry a girl? Really?
SAM: Aye. Why is that so hard to believe?
FRODO: It’s just – er – well – you know, I think I must have misinterpreted several things you’ve said over the past couple decades, Sam. Forgive me.
SAM: No matter. Could you hold me in your arms before we die, sir?
FRODO: See – like that statement, right there. Oh, who cares…
FRODO holds SAM in his arms. They pass out, but GIANT EAGLES rescue them.
WISEACRES IN AUDIENCE: So, how come the eagles didn’t just pick them up in Rivendell and carry them straight to Mount Doom in the first place? Why did they have to WALK?
REST OF AUDIENCE: Shhh.
MINAS TIRITH
GANDALF: Hello, Frodo. Thanks for doing all the dirty work. Saved our butts, let me tell you.
FRODO: Gandalf! You’re alive! Gimli! You’re alive! Legolas! You too! Aragorn! Merry! Pippin! …Okay, I’m starting to get tired. Are there many more of you?
MINAS TIRITH AGAIN
ARAGORN is getting coronated. Which should be a word, if it isn’t. He clears his throat and starts singing in Elvish.
PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK: Jeez, people sing a lot in this movie.
PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ THE BOOK: Hah. That’s nothing. You ought to read the book.
LEGOLAS steps out, wearing bridal white and a coy smile. He and ARAGORN gaze into one another’s eyes.
LEGOLAS: Are you ready to kiss your bride, my lord?
ARAGORN: Heck yeah. Come here, you.
LEGOLAS steps aside and lets ARWEN in.
ARAGORN: Oh! Arwen! Right. Wow, hi. Heh. Uh – come here, you.
ARAGORN kisses ARWEN. WATCHING ELVES smile as if the sight of a bristly-faced human tonguing a pristine Elf doesn’t turn their stomachs.
FARAMIR: The only thing that would make this day better would be meeting an attractive, single noblewoman. Oh, well.
EOWYN: The only thing that would make this day better would be meeting an attractive, single nobleman. Oh, well.
SHIRE
SAM and ROSIE are getting married. FRODO stands by, smiling generously.
FANATICAL FRODO/SAM SHIPPERS: (sobbing) This is the saddest scene in the whole trilogy.
RESPECTABLE AUDIENCE MEMBERS: Oh, give it up already.
GREY HAVENS
GANDALF: I will not say, ‘Do not weep,’ for not all tears are an evil.
AUDIENCE: Good, because that’s all we’ve been doing for the last three hours.
FRODO: Goodbye, Pippin. I’m glad you found your courage. Goodbye, Merry. I’m glad you got to wear horse-themed armor. Sam…
FRODO hugs SAM.
FRODO: I think I’ll miss you most of all, Scarecrow.
FRODO kisses SAM on the forehead. FANATICAL FRODO/SAM SHIPPERS stop sobbing for a moment and perk up.
FRODO/SAM SHIPPERS: Oh, hey! I totally need to screencap that and turn it into an LJ icon.
SAM, however, is still weeping.
SAM: Can’t I come join you, someday?
FRODO: Let’s not talk about that. The audience doesn’t need comforting with such pitiful little shreds of hope. Goodbye, my friends.
FRODO smiles as he sails away, at peace in the knowledge that he never again has to get up at five a.m. to have the makeup people put hobbit feet on him.
AUDIENCE: (sobbing) I can’t believe it’s over. What do I have left to live for now?
PETER JACKSON: Well, there’s the extended version, due out in November. Complete with silly outtakes – I promise! And then someday there’s the full-extra-special boxed set of 241 DVD’s. And eventually there’s that musical they’re making…
AUDIENCE: November?? (crumples to the ground, weeping) You rip out my heart and tear it to shreds and mash it into the sticky popcorn on the theater floor, and then try to console me with freaking outtakes in freaking November?? I hate you, I hate you…I hate you…(*sniffle*)…Can we come back and see it again tomorrow?
PETER JACKSON: Of course you can, precious.
By Sylverstone, on December 14th, 2003 i’ve got a 250 ninja with half a million miles on it.
i thought wierd stuff only happened to me.
apparently not :
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!
Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being “behind the power curve”. It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle… at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness… all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.
I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that “edge” so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect…
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it … it was that close.
I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “Banzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street… and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in… well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street … on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle… my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm’s on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand… I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked… sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren’t mine…
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger..
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car,,,
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death…I’ll take my chances with the freeway. Every time.
And I’ll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
bwahhahahah 
— end of line —
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