Friday, November 10, 2006

The god of like, whatever

You were kids, just screwin’ around for Chrissake. And you inadvertantly committed a crime so terrible it has been collectively expunged from the memories of two towns and one school for intellectually disabled teengers.

Something about a yellow school bus, four metres of Hungarian salami, thirty-eight half-starved weasels and a combine harvester.

The rest of your life is to be spent in a series of ever more grim maximum security prisons. But you don’t take it lying down. You’re no one’s punk or bitch or patsy.

You rise to the top of the heap and start planning a daring and cunning escape. (It helps that before you were a crazy mixed-up teen, you were an architect. Luckier still, right before your final project – a post-industrial art gallery in Guangzhou – you designed the very prison in which you now serve time. Some break!)

Your escape is both daring and cunning and it goes off without a hitch. Until you get outside the walls at which point your three comrades are shot dead. You survive by hiding yourself in the haystack of a nearby farm until you are discovered by a wide-hipped, rosy-cheeked, gingham-aproned farm girl who takes a liking to you.

She hides you in a loft until you are eventually discovered and then accepted by the rest of the family. In time, you marry the girl who bears you six children. You work the farm as if born to it. Your skin tans and your biceps bulge as does your belly as you feast on rich farm produce.

Many many years later, as you are bouncing one of your grand-children on your knee, you suffer a heart attack. Your entire family assembles around you at your death bed. As your hands are cradled by many familiar hands, the light begins to dim and you can feel death approaching.

As your lungs begin to cease breathing, your bedroom door bursts open and four prison guards storm in with pump-action shotguns.

With your very last breath, you say a half-prayer to Nori, Sioux god of like, whatever.

Nori responds: yeah, whatever dude.

Thanks be to Nori, god of like, whatever.


mister z said...

It's good to have you back, cetacean guy. Hope the dude is dudey.

MassMeltdown said...

like fucken whatever, i mean good stuff ,you know, like okay, so you were missed.what ever.