Tag: silly

Alternating History

Posted on by J. Burrello

There was a group of ten people. Together they decided to create a society. Nine of them, above all else, desired peace and prosperity. The tenth wanted only destruction and death. He was a troublemaker and most persistent on this point. After some discussion the nine people who wanted peace decided their dedication to peace procluded them from action and agreed to ignore the tenth man. Every night he stabbed one of the nine in their sleep. When there was none left he built a house, set it on fire, and blew his brains out.

There was a group of ten people. Nine of them, above all else, desired peace and prosperity. The tenth wanted only destruction and death. He was a troublemaker and most persistent on this point. After some discussion the nine people who wanted peace decided to acquiesce the violent man and so they quietly smothered him in his sleep until he was dead. They had a proper burial for him the next day. The nine lived long, happy lives and procreated beneath a chocolate rainbow.

There was a group of ten people. Each was concerned only with himself (or herself in such cases). With little honesty between them and no thoughts to build community they segregated and isolated themselves. They lived in caves, fearfully looking out in distrust and anger at the outside world. Whenever one saw another one he (or she in such cases) murdered them. Within a few years all were killed but one. He lived a long but lonely life full of fear before he too died.

There was a group of ten people. Five liked trees and five liked the sun. These preferences were the fuel of much hot debate. One day a tree person changed his mind and joined the sun people. Now with a majority they effectively won every major vote and managed to alienate and exclude the tree people from most activities. After being unfairly persecuted for a long while the tree people staged a violent revolution. There were no survivors.

There was a group of ten people. All ten of them were peaceful and agreed on everything all the time. It so happens they had very little to talk about.Horse gas mask war

On the Rocks

Posted on by J. Burrello

Roughly 2,000 years after the Tower of Babel Incident.

The sea resembled black mashed potatoes sloppily piled upon an upturned fan by an angry drunkard with his bare hands. It was thick and it was warm and the black sky seemed impossibly close to the rest of the world. It was a dark and angry soup and the little boat was a tortured oyster cracker growing soggier and soggier.

Across the choppy, black sea advanced a thing. “A thing!” James cried. Was this torrential hell haunted? The crew of twelve began to panic. Much girlish screaming could be heard between deafening thunder claps.

“Do not be afraid. I am not a thing,” the thing said, “I am Jesus.”  And sure enough it was.

“What are you doing out there on the water, Jesus?” called a nervous Judas. “Tell me to come out there if it really is you,” Peter shouted.

Jesus rolled his eyes and waved his hand, beckoning the disciple hither. Peter stepped onto the steps of boiling liquid. The sea greedily gobbled up Peter’s right foot, but fearing Jesus would think him a coward he proceeded with his left. The water lapped up his ankles and then angrily splashed his knees like a low-browed prepubescent ginger in a public pool.

“Oh, you of little faith,” started Jesus.

“It’s cool!” Peter hollered excitedly. He began to jump as if the waters were a discount inflatable bouncy castle rented to entertain the younger kids at a quinceañera.

The Messiah opened his eyes. “Wait. What?”

Despite the raging storm the boat was soon emptied of its formerly terrified occupants. They ran, jumped, skipped, and laughed like absurd marionettes. The sea had transmogrified from a menacing nightmare into a quite large and inviting bowl of jello.

“Boingy! Boingy!” jubilantly exlaimed Simon the Zealot.

“Stop that.” Jesus muttered, but they were all having too much fun with this newfound phenomenon to notice Jesus standing alone in the dark distance. The violent waves seemed to be even pushing the two disconnected parties further and further apart. How far away the merry disciples and the boat seemed to be now. Thadeus and Matthew were tossing a giggling Timothy into the air.

It was July 21, 1969. Earth time. God woke up. His Rocky and Bullwinkle alarm clock had yet to go off, but His dream had given Him a jolt. Groggily He folded His arms and blinked while nodding His head, a la I Dream of Jeanie. A Washington Post appeared in His hands. “The Eagle Has Landed—Two Men Walk on the Moon.”

Stop that.

J. Burrello