An average day
"An unexpected setback…"
Upon discovering that we had been locked out of our 2001 Ford Taurus, I did the only reasonable thing under the circumstances: Eradicated all witnesses in case there was a crime involved.
In the case of the statue, it was difficult to know what action to take.
"What about this old man, Aaron?"
Fortunately, there were many options.
"I will win the old man's sympathy through imitation."
Meanwhile:
Aaron was understandably upset by this.
"…"
Leaving Aaron behind, I embarked on a journey of personal exploration.
My face betrayed my emotional anagnorisis at leaving Aaron behind, but I journeyed on nonetheless.
I entered a land of shadow.
Where I was accosted by the unquiet ghost of Sigmund Freud.
"Darf ich ein Bratwurst haben?"
"Herr Doktor Freud," I asked him, not understanding his query, "Why are you wearing the skull of your dead mother?"
"Es wird das Pferd für dich!"
I had upset him.
"!"
Freud beat me to within an inch of my life. The last thing I saw before consciousness fled was his piercing blue stare.
I don't know when or how this was taken.
I woke up still slightly dizzy.
"Where am I? Why am I dressed like a concert pianist? An insane concert pianist?"
I found myself in a most unusual location.
"It is a horse!"
It was CommentÇaVa.
CommentÇaVa told me that I was wrong and always had been wrong and always would be wrong and that he was not going to hurt me.ª
"You are wrong and always have been wrong and always will be wrong and I am not going to hurt you."
Then, he hurt me, with harsh words. ª
Breaking free of CommentÇaVa's hypnotic stare, I tore off down the street. I passed the home of Podetz but was in too much of a rush to stop in.
"
"
I happened across Aaron, who had likewise escaped. He was having a party. The theme of the party was Plato's The Republic.
"Laws are partly formed for the sake of good men, in order to instruct them how they may live on friendly terms with one another, and partly for the sake of those who refuse to be instructed, whose spirit cannot be subdued, or softened, or hindered from plunging into evil."
Just then we were accosted by the unquiet ghost of Sigmund Freud, but we were too quick for him.
"Ich habe ein Bratwurst gefunden."
We came to a place of worship and decided to take sanctuary within. Aaron had quite some experience with the place so he was happy to show me around.
"I will lead you!"
Elsewhere, malicious forces were conspiring against us!
"They must be stopped!"
Aaron demonstrated an array of products.
"Do not be alarmed. These are just some of the many fabulous products available here. They have only your best interests in mind."
Thus calmed, I proceeded.
Along the way, we beheld signs and wonders, including:
Clam Juice, for the treatment of consumption.
Grape Nut Flakes, for the treatment of investment and government spending.
We tried to find something to represent net exports but could not.
We were briefly blinded by a pudding.
"Thank God!"
"Have some whiskey, honey, makes you feel better."
Hearing footsteps behind us, we proceeded cautiously.
"What was that? It sounded like a concert pianist. An insane concert pianist."
Hours later…
My injuries were forgotten!!!
At Aaron's house, the cat and I commiserated in low tones.
"My problems are like your problems."
I whispered softly in her ear and together we waited for the sun to return.
Until the unwelcome intrusion of the master of the house.
"Dude. Not cool."
However we were able to smooth over our differences.
"Shut up."
Further explorations revealed a treasure trove of items previously thought to be lost.
Among them were a series of difficult equations.
"My God! Do you realize what this means?"
Determined to venture out again, I stooped to tie my shoes back on.
"Quit looking at me."
Hours later, we embarked!
Our path was blocked by many terrible monsters.
"Oh no!"
I was not among them.
Aaron's public relations skills proved a valuable asset.
"Mister Prime Minister."
Further conversation was preempted by the unexpected return of CommentÇaVa!
So we fled.
Got away safely!
Our only casualty was the Prime Minister, who chose to flee in a direction which was not altogether passable.
And so we scramble through the darkness, CommentÇaVa ever on our heels, brambles and branches in our faces as we run. The path is uneven; we stumble and trip, but pelt on headlong towards safety. Behind us, the sound of hooves. Ahead: the future. An object looms ominously in the mist and we charge towards it, kicking up rooster-clouds of dust and pebbles; behind us the hooves gallop on, ever faster. The object resolves itself into the shape of a 2001 Ford Taurus, color silver, slight dent to the left of passenger's side headlight.
The doors, predictably, are locked-
~fin~
ªWith apologies to Donald Barthelme.
(Some of the people mentioned within this essay may not be familiar to you. Do not panic.)