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Survivor Circus Survivor Season IV: WON BY DLE, EPISODIC RECAP IN DISCORD READ OP
- Thread starter apricity
- Start date
Do you ever wake up in the morning thinking, “Hal Apricity's uppish, shabby escapades make me completely ropeable?” Well, so do I. First things first: If history follows its course, it should be evident that not only does Hal lash out at everyone and everything in sight, but he then commands his satraps, “Go, and do thou likewise.” To oppose Cæsarism, we must oppose defeatism. To oppose credentialism, we must oppose classism. And to oppose Hal, we must oppose inconsiderate ridiculous-types.
Hal has compiled an impressive list of grievances against me. Not only are all of these grievances completely fictitious, but when I observe Hal's deputies' behavior, I can't help but recall the proverbial expression, “monkey see, monkey do”. That's because, like him, they all want to deny citizens the ability to become informed about the destruction that he is capable of. Also, while a monkey might think that cannibalism, wife-swapping, and the murder of infants and the elderly are acceptable behavior, the fact remains that he finds reality too difficult to swallow. Or maybe it just gets lost between the sports and entertainment pages. In either case, Hal would have us believe that cultural tradition has never contributed a single thing to the advancement of knowledge or understanding. To be honest, he has never actually said that explicitly, but if you follow his logic—what little there is—you'll see that this is his real point.
In Hal's peons' rush to join the crowd, they failed to observe that every puzzleheaded fearmonger must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag of allotheism, and begin to push false and unsubstantiated charges and outright lies in order to tip the scales in his favor. That's sufficient evidence for me, at least, to conclude that Hal once tried convincing me that character development is not a matter of “strength through adversity” but rather, “entitlement through victimization”. Does he think I was born yesterday? I mean, it seems pretty obvious that I have come to know Hal's cohorts too well not to feel the profoundest disgust for their short-sighted ethics. If you doubt this, just ask around. Hal is not interested in what is true and what is false or in what is good and what is evil. In fact, those distinctions have no meaning to him whatsoever. The only thing that has any meaning to Hal is incendiarism. Why? After reading the following remarks I invite you to decide for yourself. First off, we are at a crossroads. One road leads into the light of a bright, shining future in which out-of-touch manipulators of the public mind like Hal are thoroughly absent. The other road leads into the darkness of mammonism. The question, therefore, is who's driving the bus? We must definitely ask ourselves questions like that before it's too late, before Hal gets the opportunity to make higher education accessible only to those in the higher echelons of society.
After watching Hal's accomplices interfere with a person's work performance, bodily security, physical movement, and privacy rights, one might conclude that Hal et al. would lay out their own ideas of philosophical pedagogy, textual interpretation, and moral philosophy. Surprisingly, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, there's something I've observed about Hal. Namely, he may not know how to spell “phoneticogrammatical”, but he surely knows how to promote Tartuffism's traits as normative values to be embraced. I've further observed that there are those who are informed and educated about the evils of tammanyism, and there are those who are not. Hal is one of the uninformed, naturally, and that's why if he is going to weaken our mental and moral fiber, then he should at least have the self-respect to remind himself of a few things: First, there is no real way to undo the consequences of his covetous manuscripts. And second, his faculty for deception is so far above anyone else's, it really must be considered different in kind as well as in degree.
Couldn't you figure that out for yourself, Hal? He professes that he can override nature. Sounds rather tartarean, doesn't it? Well, that's Hal for you.
There are legitimate conflicts of interest in any society. What is necessary is together to create just institutions within which those conflicts can be adjudicated and fairly resolved. Before this effort can commence, though, we must recognize that many people have been protecting little children from backwards libertines like Hal, which is precisely as it should be. It would be bad enough if his cringers were merely trying to truck away our freedoms for safekeeping. But their attempts to manipulate the unseen mechanisms of society so as to indoctrinate uncivilized philosophasters with ready-made conclusions on controversial subjects are just plain insensate.
Hal recently insisted that the existence and perpetuation of ultraism is its own moral justification. It's hard to imagine a more horny, meddlesome statement. It's therefore safe to say that Hal has recently stated that he values our perspectives. Such statements, like his earlier writings and pronouncements, are a contemptible insult to all decent and feeling people. What I find frightening is that some academics actually believe his line that we should derive moral guidance from his glitzy, multi-culti, hip-hop, consumption-oriented blandishments. In this case, “academics” refers to a stratum of the residual intelligentsia surviving the recession of its demotic base, not to those seekers of truth who understand that many innocent people are being manipulated into pulling us back into a darker, more disordered world by the most sickening display of rancorous cant that I have ever witnessed in my entire life.
Hal's favorite trick is to take something irrelevant out of context and repeat it over and over again until it is cited as established fact. This leads to an “establishment of lies”—lies that soon appear in everyday conversation as people rehash them using household words. Hal's goal is for people to quickly lose their ability to see that for us in these times, to even have hope is too abstract, too detached, too spectatorial. Instead we must be a hope, a participant, and a force for good as we give parents the means to protect their children. I personally clearly hope you're not being misled by the “new Hal”. Only his methods and tactics have changed. Hal's goal is still the same: to create a Frankenstein's monster. That's why I'm telling you that I like to challenge people to make a cause célèbre out of exposing Hal's proposed social programs for what they really are. I realize that that's a desperately tall order, but there isn't so much as a molecule of evidence that hanging out with mutinous utopians is a wonderful, culturally enriching experience. The only reason that Hal claims otherwise is that if he were to free himself from the repetitive irrational thoughts that fill so much of his consciousness, Hal would become less illiberal, repulsive, and acrimonious. Unfortunately, I would guess that that's unlikely to happen, largely because Hal knows exactly where he wants his castigators. He wants to put them in the lowest-paying jobs. He wants to put them outside the equal protection of the law. He wants to put them into positions of hopelessness and helplessness. And then he expects them to sing his praises? The reality is that Hal is inherently vexatious, tendentious, and impudent. Oh, and he also has an unpleasant mode of existence.
Hal will do anything to prevent us from critiquing his maladroit misdeeds. Don't misdeeds that aim to confuse the catastrophic power of state fascism with the repression of an authoritarian government in our minds deserve—and in some sense, require—abundant critique and evaluation? That's why I propose that we speak up and speak out against Hal, mainly because Hal uses the word “internationalization” to justify insisting that our society be infested with pauperism, fetishism, statism, and an impressive swarm of other “isms”. In doing so, he is reversing the meaning of that word as a means of disguising the fact that he asserts that he has a fearless dedication to reason and truth. That assertion is not only untrue but a conscious lie.
Hal should learn to appreciate what he has instead of feeling so oppressed because he can't do everything he wants every time he wants to. Fortunately, most people understand that his comments are often appallingly intransigent, sometimes grumpy, frequently off-point, and occasionally goofy. Nevertheless, they do tell us something important about Hal. They tell us that Hal intends to operate on a criminal—as opposed to a civil disobedience—basis. He never tires of telling us that the rule of law should give way to the rule of brutality and bribery. That's why I feel obligated to respond by reminding everyone that I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. Rather, I am saying it because Hal likes to quote all of the saccharine, sticky moralisms about “human rights” and the evils of extremism. But as soon as we stop paying attention, he invariably instructs his worshippers to quash other people's opinions. Then, when someone notices, the pattern repeats from the beginning. Though this game may seem perverse beyond belief to any sane individual it makes perfect sense in light of Hal's jaded, impetuous remonstrations. In conclusion, let me just say that the few boisterous, invidious wimps who deny this are not only wrong, they are willfully choleric.
Hal has compiled an impressive list of grievances against me. Not only are all of these grievances completely fictitious, but when I observe Hal's deputies' behavior, I can't help but recall the proverbial expression, “monkey see, monkey do”. That's because, like him, they all want to deny citizens the ability to become informed about the destruction that he is capable of. Also, while a monkey might think that cannibalism, wife-swapping, and the murder of infants and the elderly are acceptable behavior, the fact remains that he finds reality too difficult to swallow. Or maybe it just gets lost between the sports and entertainment pages. In either case, Hal would have us believe that cultural tradition has never contributed a single thing to the advancement of knowledge or understanding. To be honest, he has never actually said that explicitly, but if you follow his logic—what little there is—you'll see that this is his real point.
In Hal's peons' rush to join the crowd, they failed to observe that every puzzleheaded fearmonger must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag of allotheism, and begin to push false and unsubstantiated charges and outright lies in order to tip the scales in his favor. That's sufficient evidence for me, at least, to conclude that Hal once tried convincing me that character development is not a matter of “strength through adversity” but rather, “entitlement through victimization”. Does he think I was born yesterday? I mean, it seems pretty obvious that I have come to know Hal's cohorts too well not to feel the profoundest disgust for their short-sighted ethics. If you doubt this, just ask around. Hal is not interested in what is true and what is false or in what is good and what is evil. In fact, those distinctions have no meaning to him whatsoever. The only thing that has any meaning to Hal is incendiarism. Why? After reading the following remarks I invite you to decide for yourself. First off, we are at a crossroads. One road leads into the light of a bright, shining future in which out-of-touch manipulators of the public mind like Hal are thoroughly absent. The other road leads into the darkness of mammonism. The question, therefore, is who's driving the bus? We must definitely ask ourselves questions like that before it's too late, before Hal gets the opportunity to make higher education accessible only to those in the higher echelons of society.
After watching Hal's accomplices interfere with a person's work performance, bodily security, physical movement, and privacy rights, one might conclude that Hal et al. would lay out their own ideas of philosophical pedagogy, textual interpretation, and moral philosophy. Surprisingly, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, there's something I've observed about Hal. Namely, he may not know how to spell “phoneticogrammatical”, but he surely knows how to promote Tartuffism's traits as normative values to be embraced. I've further observed that there are those who are informed and educated about the evils of tammanyism, and there are those who are not. Hal is one of the uninformed, naturally, and that's why if he is going to weaken our mental and moral fiber, then he should at least have the self-respect to remind himself of a few things: First, there is no real way to undo the consequences of his covetous manuscripts. And second, his faculty for deception is so far above anyone else's, it really must be considered different in kind as well as in degree.
Couldn't you figure that out for yourself, Hal? He professes that he can override nature. Sounds rather tartarean, doesn't it? Well, that's Hal for you.
There are legitimate conflicts of interest in any society. What is necessary is together to create just institutions within which those conflicts can be adjudicated and fairly resolved. Before this effort can commence, though, we must recognize that many people have been protecting little children from backwards libertines like Hal, which is precisely as it should be. It would be bad enough if his cringers were merely trying to truck away our freedoms for safekeeping. But their attempts to manipulate the unseen mechanisms of society so as to indoctrinate uncivilized philosophasters with ready-made conclusions on controversial subjects are just plain insensate.
Hal recently insisted that the existence and perpetuation of ultraism is its own moral justification. It's hard to imagine a more horny, meddlesome statement. It's therefore safe to say that Hal has recently stated that he values our perspectives. Such statements, like his earlier writings and pronouncements, are a contemptible insult to all decent and feeling people. What I find frightening is that some academics actually believe his line that we should derive moral guidance from his glitzy, multi-culti, hip-hop, consumption-oriented blandishments. In this case, “academics” refers to a stratum of the residual intelligentsia surviving the recession of its demotic base, not to those seekers of truth who understand that many innocent people are being manipulated into pulling us back into a darker, more disordered world by the most sickening display of rancorous cant that I have ever witnessed in my entire life.
Hal's favorite trick is to take something irrelevant out of context and repeat it over and over again until it is cited as established fact. This leads to an “establishment of lies”—lies that soon appear in everyday conversation as people rehash them using household words. Hal's goal is for people to quickly lose their ability to see that for us in these times, to even have hope is too abstract, too detached, too spectatorial. Instead we must be a hope, a participant, and a force for good as we give parents the means to protect their children. I personally clearly hope you're not being misled by the “new Hal”. Only his methods and tactics have changed. Hal's goal is still the same: to create a Frankenstein's monster. That's why I'm telling you that I like to challenge people to make a cause célèbre out of exposing Hal's proposed social programs for what they really are. I realize that that's a desperately tall order, but there isn't so much as a molecule of evidence that hanging out with mutinous utopians is a wonderful, culturally enriching experience. The only reason that Hal claims otherwise is that if he were to free himself from the repetitive irrational thoughts that fill so much of his consciousness, Hal would become less illiberal, repulsive, and acrimonious. Unfortunately, I would guess that that's unlikely to happen, largely because Hal knows exactly where he wants his castigators. He wants to put them in the lowest-paying jobs. He wants to put them outside the equal protection of the law. He wants to put them into positions of hopelessness and helplessness. And then he expects them to sing his praises? The reality is that Hal is inherently vexatious, tendentious, and impudent. Oh, and he also has an unpleasant mode of existence.
Hal will do anything to prevent us from critiquing his maladroit misdeeds. Don't misdeeds that aim to confuse the catastrophic power of state fascism with the repression of an authoritarian government in our minds deserve—and in some sense, require—abundant critique and evaluation? That's why I propose that we speak up and speak out against Hal, mainly because Hal uses the word “internationalization” to justify insisting that our society be infested with pauperism, fetishism, statism, and an impressive swarm of other “isms”. In doing so, he is reversing the meaning of that word as a means of disguising the fact that he asserts that he has a fearless dedication to reason and truth. That assertion is not only untrue but a conscious lie.
Hal should learn to appreciate what he has instead of feeling so oppressed because he can't do everything he wants every time he wants to. Fortunately, most people understand that his comments are often appallingly intransigent, sometimes grumpy, frequently off-point, and occasionally goofy. Nevertheless, they do tell us something important about Hal. They tell us that Hal intends to operate on a criminal—as opposed to a civil disobedience—basis. He never tires of telling us that the rule of law should give way to the rule of brutality and bribery. That's why I feel obligated to respond by reminding everyone that I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. Rather, I am saying it because Hal likes to quote all of the saccharine, sticky moralisms about “human rights” and the evils of extremism. But as soon as we stop paying attention, he invariably instructs his worshippers to quash other people's opinions. Then, when someone notices, the pattern repeats from the beginning. Though this game may seem perverse beyond belief to any sane individual it makes perfect sense in light of Hal's jaded, impetuous remonstrations. In conclusion, let me just say that the few boisterous, invidious wimps who deny this are not only wrong, they are willfully choleric.
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.Da Lettər El shoots at Tribe Rufflet.
Aura Guardian blocks Da Letter El's shot
Have a Civilization IV quote
In the beginning the earth was without form, and void.
But the sun shone upon the sleeping earth,
And deep inside the brittle crust, massive forces waited to be unleashed.
The seas parted, and great continents were formed.
Mountains arose, earthquakes spawned massive tidal waves.
Volcanoes erupted and spewed forth fiery lava,
And charged the atmosphere with strange gasses.
Into this swirling maelstrom of fire and air and water,
The first stirrings of life appeared.
Tiny organisms, cells and amoeba, clinging to tiny sheltered habitats.
But the seeds of life grew, and strengthened, and spread, and diversified, and prospered.
And soon every continent and climate teemed with life.
And with life came instinct, and specialization, natural selection, reptiles, dinosaurs and mammals.
And finally there evolved a species known as man.
And there appeared the first faint glimmers of intelligence.
The fruits of intelligence were many:
Fire, tools, and weapons,
The hunt, farming, and the sharing of food,
The family, the village, and the tribe.
Now it required but one more ingredient:
A great leader to unite the quarrelling tribes,
To harness the power of the land,
To build a legacy that would stand the test of time:
A CIVILIZATION!
— Opening lines, Civilization and Civilization IV
Should I shoot? Should it be that Aura Guardian shoots? Nah.
Now have a Civilization II quote
"O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene. Think when we talk of horses, that you see them, printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth; for 'tis your thoughts that must deck our kings, carrying them here and there, jumping o'er times, turning the accomplishments of many years into an hourglass. For the which supply, admit me chorus to this history; who prologue like your humble patience pray, gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play."
— The Shakespeare's Theatre Wonder in Civilization II
Have a Civilization IV quote
In the beginning the earth was without form, and void.
But the sun shone upon the sleeping earth,
And deep inside the brittle crust, massive forces waited to be unleashed.
The seas parted, and great continents were formed.
Mountains arose, earthquakes spawned massive tidal waves.
Volcanoes erupted and spewed forth fiery lava,
And charged the atmosphere with strange gasses.
Into this swirling maelstrom of fire and air and water,
The first stirrings of life appeared.
Tiny organisms, cells and amoeba, clinging to tiny sheltered habitats.
But the seeds of life grew, and strengthened, and spread, and diversified, and prospered.
And soon every continent and climate teemed with life.
And with life came instinct, and specialization, natural selection, reptiles, dinosaurs and mammals.
And finally there evolved a species known as man.
And there appeared the first faint glimmers of intelligence.
The fruits of intelligence were many:
Fire, tools, and weapons,
The hunt, farming, and the sharing of food,
The family, the village, and the tribe.
Now it required but one more ingredient:
A great leader to unite the quarrelling tribes,
To harness the power of the land,
To build a legacy that would stand the test of time:
A CIVILIZATION!
— Opening lines, Civilization and Civilization IV
Should I shoot? Should it be that Aura Guardian shoots? Nah.
Now have a Civilization II quote
"O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene. Think when we talk of horses, that you see them, printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth; for 'tis your thoughts that must deck our kings, carrying them here and there, jumping o'er times, turning the accomplishments of many years into an hourglass. For the which supply, admit me chorus to this history; who prologue like your humble patience pray, gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play."
— The Shakespeare's Theatre Wonder in Civilization II
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
Lost in the Desert
So, there's a man crawling through the desert.
He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.
He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out
and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.
He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon
how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,
he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication
later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give
him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle
in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the
direction he thinks is right.
He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's
been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and
whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.
He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.
By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the
town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs.
As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,
he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.
Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back
up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.
He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.
He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day.
He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in
his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't
find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.
Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.
Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.
As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke.
He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait
any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large
rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly
swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry
and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes
another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.
He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to
make some difference and keep himself from passing out.
He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him,
it kills him - if he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty
sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick - their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that.
He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,
dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.
Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.
After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat
stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep going.
After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He
knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing
donuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it - he's getting woozy
enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers any more or if
he's hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it,
trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.
He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure any more. He's not even sure how long he's been walking any more. Is it still morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon - it seems like it's been too long since he started out.
He walks through the sand.
After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't
remember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he
doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.
But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures
that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from
there that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.
Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third
time, and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up - he'll
just fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.
While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally
gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert - crawling through
the sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert
in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any
rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape -
shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.
He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top,
he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees
is sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he
sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more
dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.
Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper
fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the
cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it's dark - darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from
here. He's going to have to go down there and look.
He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.
After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble - he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.
He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough
energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When
he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot
in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.
So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins
to crawl towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to
have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages
of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't
have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last
chance.
He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the
dark area. His eyes won't quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting
his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just
keeps crawling.
Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center,
where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone
area.
His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark
stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun
overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying
down on the nice cool surface.
Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's
probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and
dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the
beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him
a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.
He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here
in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the
center before he goes. He keeps crawling.
It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's
hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do
not look well. Do you hear me?"
He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and
knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something
different - he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few
seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and
tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands
and tries again. Better this time.
Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse
of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or
pole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet
out of the stone, at an angle.
And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and
seeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long
desert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him.
He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and
run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his
final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to
move from this spot.
Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than
dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a
little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves
it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a
moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.
Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn't rattled yet -
that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn't going to die of snake bite after all.
He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here
because he thought he'd heard a voice. He was still very woozy - he was
likely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was
now on cool stone. He still didn't have anything to drink. But maybe he had
actually heard a voice. This stone didn't look natural. Nor did that white
post sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybe
they were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake
was even their pet, and that's why it wasn't biting.
He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but his throat is too dry. All
that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he's going
to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the
bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out,
almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't
good. He doesn't have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes
out.
He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips,
and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then
swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk
now.
He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to
spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"
He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"
He turns his head, back towards the snake. That's where the sound had seemed
to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a
speaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides
to try asking for help.
"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be
thirsty any more. I've been a long time without water. Can you help me?"
Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was
coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its
mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he
falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."
A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits
up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily
disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers - the crawl across the
sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped
around the tilted white post, still looking at him.
He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet.
He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder
again - his shirt has what feels like two holes in it - two puncture holes -
they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been
bitten. By the snake.
"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He
hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy any more. And more
importantly, he's not thirsty any more - at all!
"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the
afterlife?"
"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I
work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."
"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty any more? Did you give me a
drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be
thirsty any more? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for
the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk?
Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"
"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I
didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works - it's what I do. I
bite. I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just
sitting around here."
The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the
desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a
snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not
great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no
longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt
hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool
stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer
dying of thirst.
"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your
system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you
drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left
in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or
two, if you drank enough of it."
"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting
shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.
"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You
get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his
own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.
"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The
second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of
responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.
"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,
Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound
used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand
for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into
names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry
if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds
somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.
"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack
Samson.
"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the
poison...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that?
What do you mean by that's how you work?"
"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer
all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets
wider. "Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need
to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not
be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make
it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at
all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to
get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert.
You've been changed.
"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the
effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal.
In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.
Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly
amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.
"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack
could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read
talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree
to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell
you."
"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd
have to kill me?"
"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.
"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was
talking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a
nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really
stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do
you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper
fluid, and just denature it?"
"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a
while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and
on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you
pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume
that they still color wiper fluid blue?"
"Yeah, they do," said Jack.
"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the
fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me,
this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you
decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me,
write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will
lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of
course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm
guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding
anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.
Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a
little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know
that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"
Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the
second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.
"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I
ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"
"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes
to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and
before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or
omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous
and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and
sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be
omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very
useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was
staring at him.
"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent
good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be
immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long
time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to
recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a
request to me."
"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a
long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request
about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not
really a change to me?"
"Right," nodded Nate.
"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.
"That takes two requests, Jack."
"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could
become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"
"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't
necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you
very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either.
You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some
truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It
all depends on what you decide to do with it."
"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,
after this one?"
"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more
rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second
request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had
shoulders.
"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent
health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially.
Do I need to sign in blood or something?"
"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or
whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said,
that's how it works - the poison, you know," Nate said apologetically.
Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it
didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better
about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot
snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to
be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack
tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it
wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.
"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind
him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"
Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of
nowhere? And did they bring food?
Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...
Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through
his jeans...
Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have
decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to
hoodwink me like that."
"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You
humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you -
especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of
minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the
health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."
"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody
likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or
something instead?"
"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you
accidentally kick me or move at the last second."
"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify
to hear," answered Jack.
"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to
just start talking?"
"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."
"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,"
answered Nate.
"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up.
"What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically
whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with
excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.
"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite
it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,
that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.
"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little
longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it
is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw.
No thanks. Just talk."
"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start
looking at me as food.
Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued.
"You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."
Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate
sceptically.
"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up
and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark
stone they were both sitting on with his nose.
Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a
representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around
was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches
left the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it
looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and
embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.
Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the
setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the
sky.
Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another
night out here! Arrrgh!
Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and
stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said
Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to
have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw
desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."
"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail
this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to
the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by
the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be
able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head
out early tomorrow, Jack."
Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and
then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading
out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting
stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"
"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He
figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a
'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he
could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from
across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."
"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"
"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to
count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I
do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands
of years, at least."
"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.
"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your
kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it
could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant
requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."
"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out
of the stone there?" asked Jack.
"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much
bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember
if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But
one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do
something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've
been here ever since.
"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"
"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his
coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into
the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to
enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned
over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as
Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but
Nate was suddenly there in the way.
"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.
"Why not?" asked Jack.
"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.
"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it
that way, and it would move in the slot."
"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.
"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"
"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it
'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing
voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and
grinned.
Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned
Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it
really do?"
"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought
the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"
Nate continued to grin.
"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why
would anyone need to end humanity?"
"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment.
Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really
bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are
the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I
didn't think to ask back when I started here."
"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.
"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it
unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human
can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.
Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now?
You'd let me end humanity?"
"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do
you want to, Jack?"
"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in
the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want
that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,
wouldn't it?"
"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."
"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Nate. "Any of those bound
to secrecy, that is?"
"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or
another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and
think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get
disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.
But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.
Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at
the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of
humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"
"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.
"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this
decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are
bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"
"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's
up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed
to know."
"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel
horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?"
protested Jack.
Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to
try your best, Jack."
Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly
getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.
Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the
one bound to this before me?"
"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to
read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried
in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months
ago."
"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you
first told him. What did he do?"
"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and
then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."
"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.
"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.
"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"
"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request
you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point
that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here
and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious
again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."
"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.
Nate watched him, waiting.
"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with
his third request?"
Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,
"Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."
"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it
to me.
Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"
"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped
him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his
shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"
"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward.
Like he had a lot to think about."
"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to
face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.
Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now,
Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.
"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like
it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.
"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body
tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.
"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll
turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"
"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes,
straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there.
With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot
in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.
Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the
now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.
Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet
extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to
the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been
recently bitten.
Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped
bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever,
his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he
was still awake.
Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he
thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.
"Nate, do accidents count?"
Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"
Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know,
accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does
that still wipe out humanity?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that
if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.
A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.
"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.
"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull
the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a
rock?"
"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated
you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote
control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by
the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that
in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they
wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or
whatever had disappeared."
"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him
off of the stone and looked up into the sky.
"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,
right?" asked Jack.
"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."
"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long.
Do you know what he died of, Nate?"
"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat
sad.
Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.
Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in
society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start
questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He
faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and
he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he
liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.
"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't
stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend
time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he
told me he'd had enough. It was his time."
"And then he just died?" asked Jack.
Nate shook his head a little. "He made his forth request, Jack. There's only
one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.
After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his
time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always
had.
After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone
with the sunrise."
Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his
memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.
Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with
the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except
that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.
So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to
get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long
walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made
it back easily.
Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,
little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert
and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with
a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV.
They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without
incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's
lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.
Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a
book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to
avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see
Nate.
Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new
backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then
started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he
knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of,
and shouldn't really raise suspicions.
Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers.
Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world,
others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate,
and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but
that he had things to do first.
Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought
a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger,
special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a
special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot
rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out
its location to the satellite.
After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him
fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.
After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he
'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,
working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile
any more. Jack went back to school.
Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps
because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote,
and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started
traveling around the country for book signings and readings.
But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.
On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been
a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing
Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace
Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this
visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at
Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's
silence, sat down and waited.
After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."
Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?
"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son."
Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"
Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the
dune and up to the stone base of the lever.
"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.
"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I
assume?"
Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around
for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the
edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me
about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the
other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to
have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.
"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have
that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"
Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even
joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can
do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was
something more.
Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said,
"Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet
ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.
Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my
first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to
know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But
anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I
needed a replacement."
Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world,
and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"
Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've
already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave
here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."
Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about
this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would
be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another
hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.
Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said
was, "What do you want me to do?"
Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around
the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here
and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.
"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of
old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now.
I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be
able to die. And I need you to kill me.
"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And
I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so
that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.
Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd
say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground
or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of
going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work,
even on me.
"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.
"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."
Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy!
Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."
Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it
back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then
headed into the desert with Sammy following.
Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through
e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting
every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a
natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up
acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to
keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were
nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a
few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle
them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few
wild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the
newspapers or the public in general.
When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some
undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally
drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was
stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that
Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans
could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.
So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told
Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from
his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to
Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by
getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as
much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was
definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to
head back and see Nate.
When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he
and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up
Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.
When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those
years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like
walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to
figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either
have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.
As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his
resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was
only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks
afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they
drove, and then they could get it over tonight.
Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of
sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out
into the desert.
Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been
nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds,
revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to
the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed
up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd
decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing
traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to
keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the
other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and
laughing at Jack's driving.
As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw
that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,
waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV
started slipping down the other side.
Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped
the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and
faster.
Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were
heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for
it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end
humanity.
Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't
working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second,
Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the
lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit
the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer
away.
Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a
little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just
right.
The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the
sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that
they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something
else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped
around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the
stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of
the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV
was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the
sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the
lever to the other side.
Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the
lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy
realized the same thing.
Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone.
Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER," he ran over the snake.
THE END
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
So, there's a man crawling through the desert.
He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.
He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out
and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.
He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon
how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,
he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication
later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give
him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle
in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the
direction he thinks is right.
He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's
been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and
whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.
He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.
By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the
town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs.
As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,
he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.
Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back
up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.
He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.
He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day.
He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in
his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't
find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.
Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.
Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.
As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke.
He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait
any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large
rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly
swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry
and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes
another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.
He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to
make some difference and keep himself from passing out.
He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him,
it kills him - if he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty
sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick - their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that.
He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,
dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.
Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.
After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat
stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep going.
After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He
knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing
donuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it - he's getting woozy
enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers any more or if
he's hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it,
trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.
He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure any more. He's not even sure how long he's been walking any more. Is it still morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon - it seems like it's been too long since he started out.
He walks through the sand.
After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't
remember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he
doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.
But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures
that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from
there that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.
Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third
time, and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up - he'll
just fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.
While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally
gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert - crawling through
the sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert
in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any
rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape -
shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.
He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top,
he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees
is sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he
sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more
dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.
Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper
fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the
cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it's dark - darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from
here. He's going to have to go down there and look.
He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.
After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble - he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.
He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough
energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When
he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot
in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.
So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins
to crawl towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to
have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages
of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't
have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last
chance.
He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the
dark area. His eyes won't quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting
his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just
keeps crawling.
Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center,
where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone
area.
His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark
stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun
overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying
down on the nice cool surface.
Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's
probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and
dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the
beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him
a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.
He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here
in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the
center before he goes. He keeps crawling.
It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's
hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do
not look well. Do you hear me?"
He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and
knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something
different - he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few
seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and
tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands
and tries again. Better this time.
Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse
of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or
pole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet
out of the stone, at an angle.
And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and
seeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long
desert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him.
He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and
run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his
final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to
move from this spot.
Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than
dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a
little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves
it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a
moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.
Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn't rattled yet -
that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn't going to die of snake bite after all.
He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here
because he thought he'd heard a voice. He was still very woozy - he was
likely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was
now on cool stone. He still didn't have anything to drink. But maybe he had
actually heard a voice. This stone didn't look natural. Nor did that white
post sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybe
they were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake
was even their pet, and that's why it wasn't biting.
He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but his throat is too dry. All
that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he's going
to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the
bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out,
almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't
good. He doesn't have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes
out.
He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips,
and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then
swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk
now.
He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to
spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"
He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"
He turns his head, back towards the snake. That's where the sound had seemed
to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a
speaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides
to try asking for help.
"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be
thirsty any more. I've been a long time without water. Can you help me?"
Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was
coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its
mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he
falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."
A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits
up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily
disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers - the crawl across the
sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped
around the tilted white post, still looking at him.
He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet.
He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder
again - his shirt has what feels like two holes in it - two puncture holes -
they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been
bitten. By the snake.
"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He
hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy any more. And more
importantly, he's not thirsty any more - at all!
"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the
afterlife?"
"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I
work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."
"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty any more? Did you give me a
drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be
thirsty any more? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for
the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk?
Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"
"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I
didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works - it's what I do. I
bite. I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just
sitting around here."
The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the
desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a
snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not
great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no
longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt
hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool
stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer
dying of thirst.
"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your
system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you
drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left
in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or
two, if you drank enough of it."
"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting
shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.
"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You
get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his
own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.
"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The
second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of
responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.
"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,
Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound
used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand
for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into
names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry
if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds
somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.
"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack
Samson.
"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the
poison...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that?
What do you mean by that's how you work?"
"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer
all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets
wider. "Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need
to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not
be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make
it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at
all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to
get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert.
You've been changed.
"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the
effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal.
In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.
Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly
amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.
"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack
could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read
talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree
to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell
you."
"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd
have to kill me?"
"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.
"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was
talking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a
nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really
stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do
you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper
fluid, and just denature it?"
"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a
while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and
on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you
pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume
that they still color wiper fluid blue?"
"Yeah, they do," said Jack.
"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the
fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me,
this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you
decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me,
write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will
lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of
course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm
guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding
anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.
Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a
little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know
that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"
Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the
second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.
"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I
ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"
"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes
to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and
before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or
omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous
and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and
sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be
omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very
useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was
staring at him.
"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent
good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be
immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long
time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to
recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a
request to me."
"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a
long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request
about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not
really a change to me?"
"Right," nodded Nate.
"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.
"That takes two requests, Jack."
"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could
become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"
"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't
necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you
very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either.
You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some
truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It
all depends on what you decide to do with it."
"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,
after this one?"
"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more
rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second
request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had
shoulders.
"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent
health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially.
Do I need to sign in blood or something?"
"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or
whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said,
that's how it works - the poison, you know," Nate said apologetically.
Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it
didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better
about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot
snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to
be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack
tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it
wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.
"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind
him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"
Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of
nowhere? And did they bring food?
Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...
Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through
his jeans...
Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have
decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to
hoodwink me like that."
"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You
humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you -
especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of
minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the
health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."
"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody
likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or
something instead?"
"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you
accidentally kick me or move at the last second."
"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify
to hear," answered Jack.
"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to
just start talking?"
"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."
"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,"
answered Nate.
"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up.
"What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically
whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with
excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.
"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite
it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,
that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.
"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little
longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it
is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw.
No thanks. Just talk."
"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start
looking at me as food.
Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued.
"You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."
Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate
sceptically.
"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up
and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark
stone they were both sitting on with his nose.
Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a
representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around
was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches
left the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it
looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and
embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.
Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the
setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the
sky.
Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another
night out here! Arrrgh!
Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and
stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said
Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to
have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw
desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."
"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail
this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to
the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by
the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be
able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head
out early tomorrow, Jack."
Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and
then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading
out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting
stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"
"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He
figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a
'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he
could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from
across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."
"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"
"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to
count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I
do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands
of years, at least."
"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.
"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your
kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it
could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant
requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."
"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out
of the stone there?" asked Jack.
"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much
bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember
if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But
one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do
something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've
been here ever since.
"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"
"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his
coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into
the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to
enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned
over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as
Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but
Nate was suddenly there in the way.
"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.
"Why not?" asked Jack.
"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.
"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it
that way, and it would move in the slot."
"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.
"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"
"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it
'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing
voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and
grinned.
Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned
Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it
really do?"
"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought
the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"
Nate continued to grin.
"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why
would anyone need to end humanity?"
"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment.
Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really
bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are
the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I
didn't think to ask back when I started here."
"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.
"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it
unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human
can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.
Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now?
You'd let me end humanity?"
"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do
you want to, Jack?"
"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in
the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want
that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,
wouldn't it?"
"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."
"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Nate. "Any of those bound
to secrecy, that is?"
"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or
another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and
think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get
disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.
But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.
Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at
the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of
humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"
"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.
"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this
decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are
bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"
"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's
up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed
to know."
"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel
horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?"
protested Jack.
Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to
try your best, Jack."
Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly
getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.
Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the
one bound to this before me?"
"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to
read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried
in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months
ago."
"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you
first told him. What did he do?"
"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and
then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."
"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.
"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.
"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"
"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request
you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point
that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here
and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious
again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."
"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.
Nate watched him, waiting.
"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with
his third request?"
Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,
"Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."
"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it
to me.
Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"
"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped
him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his
shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"
"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward.
Like he had a lot to think about."
"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to
face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.
Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now,
Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.
"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like
it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.
"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body
tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.
"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll
turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"
"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes,
straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there.
With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot
in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.
Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the
now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.
Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet
extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to
the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been
recently bitten.
Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped
bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever,
his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he
was still awake.
Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he
thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.
"Nate, do accidents count?"
Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"
Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know,
accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does
that still wipe out humanity?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that
if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.
A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.
"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.
"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull
the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a
rock?"
"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated
you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote
control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by
the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that
in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they
wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or
whatever had disappeared."
"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him
off of the stone and looked up into the sky.
"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,
right?" asked Jack.
"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."
"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long.
Do you know what he died of, Nate?"
"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat
sad.
Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.
Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in
society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start
questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He
faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and
he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he
liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.
"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't
stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend
time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he
told me he'd had enough. It was his time."
"And then he just died?" asked Jack.
Nate shook his head a little. "He made his forth request, Jack. There's only
one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.
After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his
time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always
had.
After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone
with the sunrise."
Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his
memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.
Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with
the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except
that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.
So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to
get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long
walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made
it back easily.
Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,
little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert
and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with
a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV.
They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without
incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's
lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.
Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a
book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to
avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see
Nate.
Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new
backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then
started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he
knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of,
and shouldn't really raise suspicions.
Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers.
Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world,
others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate,
and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but
that he had things to do first.
Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought
a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger,
special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a
special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot
rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out
its location to the satellite.
After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him
fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.
After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he
'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,
working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile
any more. Jack went back to school.
Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps
because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote,
and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started
traveling around the country for book signings and readings.
But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.
On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been
a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing
Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace
Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this
visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at
Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's
silence, sat down and waited.
After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."
Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?
"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son."
Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"
Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the
dune and up to the stone base of the lever.
"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.
"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I
assume?"
Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around
for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the
edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me
about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the
other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to
have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.
"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have
that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"
Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even
joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can
do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was
something more.
Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said,
"Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet
ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.
Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my
first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to
know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But
anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I
needed a replacement."
Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world,
and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"
Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've
already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave
here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."
Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about
this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would
be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another
hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.
Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said
was, "What do you want me to do?"
Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around
the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here
and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.
"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of
old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now.
I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be
able to die. And I need you to kill me.
"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And
I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so
that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.
Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd
say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground
or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of
going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work,
even on me.
"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.
"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."
Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy!
Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."
Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it
back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then
headed into the desert with Sammy following.
Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through
e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting
every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a
natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up
acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to
keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were
nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a
few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle
them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few
wild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the
newspapers or the public in general.
When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some
undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally
drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was
stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that
Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans
could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.
So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told
Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from
his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to
Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by
getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as
much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was
definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to
head back and see Nate.
When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he
and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up
Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.
When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those
years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like
walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to
figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either
have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.
As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his
resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was
only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks
afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they
drove, and then they could get it over tonight.
Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of
sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out
into the desert.
Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been
nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds,
revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to
the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed
up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd
decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing
traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to
keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the
other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and
laughing at Jack's driving.
As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw
that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,
waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV
started slipping down the other side.
Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped
the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and
faster.
Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were
heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for
it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end
humanity.
Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't
working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second,
Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the
lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit
the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer
away.
Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a
little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just
right.
The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the
sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that
they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something
else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped
around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the
stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of
the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV
was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the
sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the
lever to the other side.
Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the
lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy
realized the same thing.
Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone.
Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER," he ran over the snake.
THE END
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
* * * *
The swindler was headed upstairs to visit his friend, the forger. The bird he passed along the way was the forger's homing vulture, which was en route to the forger's publisher to make a delivery. Unfortunately, the poor bird had to fly down the stairwell to ground level and out the open terrace since the forger's apartment had no windows. She was carrying some rolled up paper on which her owner had written the perfect end to his prized short story, what's delivery was a mission of utmost importance.
You see, the forger was very proud of this story's ending as it unabashedly mocked the last two novellas in a complete collection written by his far more successful literary rival, Condolyssa Blackburn, who had worked to expose the forger's dishonesty by high-hatting his private dealings in said novellas, of which the forger grew thirsty for revenge. This same short story would later assist the forger in framing her for a homicide.
So, the swindler in the stairwell knew of the forger's vulture, but he hated birds and went about swatting and cursing at her for flying around in the building. Though, little did the swindler realize that there was a third crook who had been hiding in the shadows of the stairwell above him. As the swindler rounded the corner and came into view, the young thief named Khan had already lept from the banister one floor up behind the swindler as he planned to knock the swindler down and take his money.
As was indicative of his inexperience, young Khan did not notice the vulture until after he lept from the banister as he was too busy marking the swindler to notice the large bird flying past him on it's way down. The sight of the dutiful bird had caused the swindler to stop and swat and curse, which completely negated Khan's calculated leap, so as he fell toward where the swindler would have been had it not been for the vulture, he joined the swindler in cursing wildly at the bird because she had single-wingedly ruined his plan.
Khan's midair cursing fit caught the attention of the swindler who sighted him, and since Khan was quite green and merely half his age, the swindler immediately began talking down to him, attempting to illustrate how feeble and worthless his attempt to swindle a swindler. Yet, as the swindler turned to continue his ascent upstairs, his pride had hindered him from noticing that Khan had successfully picked the wallet from his back pocket.
Thus, Khan's incredibly embarrassing, albeit successful, incident is now humorously referred to among his fellow con men as the "greatest con ever botched," which is far less mentally demanding than what it was formerly referred to as, which was the "condescending conned ascending con dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes ending condescending Khan's descending on dissenting conned ascending con dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes sending condescending Khan descending condescending condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes ending condescending conned ascending con's dissenting on dissenting condor-sending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes sending condescending conned ascending con's dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes on descending condescending Khan's descending" con.
You see, the forger was very proud of this story's ending as it unabashedly mocked the last two novellas in a complete collection written by his far more successful literary rival, Condolyssa Blackburn, who had worked to expose the forger's dishonesty by high-hatting his private dealings in said novellas, of which the forger grew thirsty for revenge. This same short story would later assist the forger in framing her for a homicide.
So, the swindler in the stairwell knew of the forger's vulture, but he hated birds and went about swatting and cursing at her for flying around in the building. Though, little did the swindler realize that there was a third crook who had been hiding in the shadows of the stairwell above him. As the swindler rounded the corner and came into view, the young thief named Khan had already lept from the banister one floor up behind the swindler as he planned to knock the swindler down and take his money.
As was indicative of his inexperience, young Khan did not notice the vulture until after he lept from the banister as he was too busy marking the swindler to notice the large bird flying past him on it's way down. The sight of the dutiful bird had caused the swindler to stop and swat and curse, which completely negated Khan's calculated leap, so as he fell toward where the swindler would have been had it not been for the vulture, he joined the swindler in cursing wildly at the bird because she had single-wingedly ruined his plan.
Khan's midair cursing fit caught the attention of the swindler who sighted him, and since Khan was quite green and merely half his age, the swindler immediately began talking down to him, attempting to illustrate how feeble and worthless his attempt to swindle a swindler. Yet, as the swindler turned to continue his ascent upstairs, his pride had hindered him from noticing that Khan had successfully picked the wallet from his back pocket.
Thus, Khan's incredibly embarrassing, albeit successful, incident is now humorously referred to among his fellow con men as the "greatest con ever botched," which is far less mentally demanding than what it was formerly referred to as, which was the "condescending conned ascending con dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes ending condescending Khan's descending on dissenting conned ascending con dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes sending condescending Khan descending condescending condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes ending condescending conned ascending con's dissenting on dissenting condor-sending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes sending condescending conned ascending con's dissenting condor-sending condescending con's descending condor sending condor-sending condescending con's dissenting conte's ending condescending con-dissenting Condi's ending condescending contes on descending condescending Khan's descending" con.
this is the greatest challenge ever btw
They crush berries with their talons. They bravely stand up to any opponent, no matter how strong it is.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
It stands up to massive opponents, not out of courage, but out of recklessness. But that is how it gets stronger.
They crush berries with their talons. They bravely stand up to any opponent, no matter how strong it is.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
They crush berries with their talons. They bravely stand up to any opponent, no matter how strong it is.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
They pick fights indiscriminately. They grow stronger and more powerful each time they faint or are injured.
With its sharp claws, this Pokémon pierces its prey, and then it pecks at them. Although it also consumes berries, it's a carnivore at heart.
With its powerful legs and sturdy claws, it can crack even the hard shells of Shellder and pluck out their insides.
Known as a natural-born warrior, soon after its hatching, it will challenge its parent to a fight in order to gain their acceptance.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
It stands up to massive opponents, not out of courage, but out of recklessness. But that is how it gets stronger.
They crush berries with their talons. They bravely stand up to any opponent, no matter how strong it is.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
They crush berries with their talons. They bravely stand up to any opponent, no matter how strong it is.
They will challenge anything, even strong opponents, without fear. Their frequent fights help them become stronger.
They pick fights indiscriminately. They grow stronger and more powerful each time they faint or are injured.
With its sharp claws, this Pokémon pierces its prey, and then it pecks at them. Although it also consumes berries, it's a carnivore at heart.
With its powerful legs and sturdy claws, it can crack even the hard shells of Shellder and pluck out their insides.
Known as a natural-born warrior, soon after its hatching, it will challenge its parent to a fight in order to gain their acceptance.
Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead
Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
It's a cool place, and they say it gets colder
You're bundled up now but wait 'til you get older
But the meteor men beg to differ
Judging by the hole in the satellite picture
The ice we skate is getting pretty thin
The water's getting warm so you might as well swim
My world's on fire, how about yours?
That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?
"I need to get myself away from this place"
I said "Yep, what a concept
I could use a little fuel myself
And we could all use a little change!"
Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead
Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
It's a cool place, and they say it gets colder
You're bundled up now but wait 'til you get older
But the meteor men beg to differ
Judging by the hole in the satellite picture
The ice we skate is getting pretty thin
The water's getting warm so you might as well swim
My world's on fire, how about yours?
That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
(Go for the moon)
Hey now you're an All Star, get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?
"I need to get myself away from this place"
I said "Yep, what a concept
I could use a little fuel myself
And we could all use a little change!"
Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
The world we live in. It's so... Wondrous. Mysterious. Even magical. No... No no no.. Not that world. I meant this one. The smartphone. Each system and program app is it's own little planet of perfect. Technology. All providing services so necessary, so crucial, so unbelievably profound. Look who just sent me a text! Addie McCallister? It must be a mistake. Or a joke. Or a scam! Don't send her your social security number. She's right there! That's our user, Alex. And, like every freshman in high school, his whole life, everything, revolves around his phone. And, because the pace of life gets, faster and faster... Phones down in five. And attention spans get shorter and shorter... And... You're probably not even listening to me right now. Who has the time to type out actual words? And that's where we come in. The most important invention in the history of communication! Emojis. That's my home! Textopolis. Here, each of us does one thing, and we have to nail it every time. Christmas tree just has to stand there, all festive. Merry christmas! It's still september, Tim! And princesses... I am so pretty. They just gotta wear their crowns and keep their hair comb. We are so pretty. Devil, Poop, Thumbs Up, they just show up and they're good to go. But for the faces, the pressure is on. Cryer always has to cry, even if he just won the lottery. Hurray, i'm a millionaire! Laugher's always laughing, even if he's just broken his arm. Ahh!! Ah! I can see the bone!! Ah ah ah ah ah... And me, i'm a meh. So I gotta totally be over it all the time, you know? Like meh, who cares. Which is not as easy as it sounds. I gotta be mehhhhhhhhh I GOTTA! Be! Mehhhhhhhhh. Morning, Mrs. D, I see you have the little minis with ya! Oh, they're so... Cute! NYAH, SO ADORABLE, I CAN'T TAKE IT! I WILL NEVER GET THEM TO SLEEP! STICK TO YOUR ONE FACE, WEIRDO. OLE! OLE! OH NO! OH NO! It's hard to only act blasé. When, living in Textopolis is.... Just so exciting! Hello, good simeans! Those are some sharp attaches! Yes, well we have business to attend to. What kind of business? Monkey business. Ha ha ha ha, I sounded british. Meh... Oh, that was really good.. Meh? Meh... Meh ha ha... What the freak ya doing there, mate? Practicing. Today is my first day on the phone. Oh, droit. I'm gonna be so.. Meh. What are you going to do? Blah! Me and the boys are gonna throw ourselves on the barbie! Woo! Puh-zow! Gooday, mate! Hey, konichiwa! Sorry emoticons!! Oh, I hate knocking over the elderly.. Let me help, let me help... Oh, my colon!!! Ducks... Hey, is that the time? HEY, my eyes are up here, pal! Woo ooh hoo! Woo hoo! Right on time! And last week, Alex sent me next to THIS text! Huh? Huh? HA HA HA THAT ELEPHANT PISSED HIMSELF HA HA HA AH HAH HA HAH HAH UH HUH HUH why are YOU laughing, freak? Ho ho ha ha ha! Now, unlike me, my parents are total pros. Gene, please tell me you weren't laughing just now. Gene so help me I swear oh, he was, I remember. Let's go see if you can get it right. I have some bad news, Gene, and i'm afraid that you'll have the wrong reaction. Ok, what's the wrong reaction? Anything other than meh. Come on! I don't want to be late! I'm not letting you go to work today. Wait, WHAT? You're just not ready, son. Come on!! Working in a cube is an Emoji's whole purpose in life! Everybody my age is working on the phone except for me! Oh sweetie, that's not true. Ow! YEAH! I'm going to work on the phone and I'm only ten! That's because I believe in you! Should we wash our hands? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! We're number two! We're number two! See? I, I know i'm different, ok? But, I need to... I can be meh... I just... Want to be a working emoji, you know, like... Everybody else... And then... I would finally fit in, you know? Ah, you fit in, honey. No I don't, mom. I never have. But I could change all that if you just let me! Just give me a chance! But what if you get sent out on the phone, making the wrong face? No dad, i'll make the right face! Look! Meh? You're so handsome when you make that face. I think he's ready, Mel. Meh. Come on, dad. Let me prove it to you. If you really think you're ready... YES! Yes I am! I promise I won't let you down! Wow! Congratulations, everyone! What an exciting day for all of you! Oh, it's really her! Oh, pizza! First day on the job, hi, hi! Don't be nervous! I won't bite! Hi, i'm Smiler! Ho ho ho ho ho... DON'T TOUCH ME! Hi! I mean.. Hey.. As you know, i'm Smiler, i'm the system supervisor here, because I was the original emoji. Here's how it works. It's nothing fancy! Wait a minute... It's really fancy! You each have your own cube on the emoji bar! If Alex chooses you, should you be so lucky, your cube will light up! It's showtime! The scanner will scan you, and that scan will get sent right up to Alex's text box. And let me tell you guys, there is nothing like getting scanned for the first time. A har, you're gonna love it. Now over here is the favorites section, where you'll find all the most popular emojis. And of course, you'll find my cube here. Whoo. You are smooth. Just doing my duty. Ha ha ha! What did I say? Come on, tell me you aren't just a little bit tempted? Steven, for the last time, I don't want to buy a timeshare. Come on, man, it's Hi-5! You know me! I'm a favorite! Alex hasn't picked you in weeks. When he stops picking you, you're no longer a favorite. There's gotta be some sort of mistake, I mean, look at me, i'm an attractive, hand-giving Hi-5! Oh! Fistbump! Come on in! Hey, ladies! FISTBUMP? He's a knucklehead! Literally! Look at him, I can look like that! Ugh, ow, cramp.. Big mistake.. Oh... Help me.. Help up a hand.. Oh... Here you go... Thanks mate... Hey, little man, how about you create a distraction, and i'll just slip under the rope! Uh, oh, is someone lost? Smiler, hiya, just leaving. Yeah, you know, just killing time before I go back to my cube in the far corner where Alex can't even See Me ANYMORE! You may not be a favorite anymore, but you will always have a place, in a cube! Yeah, in the nosebleeds... Uh, i'm standing right here? Words hurt. The most important thing I can tell you is to just be yourself... Basically, happy itself... I am always smiling... Places, please! Emojis to your cubes! Attention, we've got incoming! Gotta be meh, gotta be meh. Oh my gosh, my own cube! I can't believe it... Oh, I could put a plant over here, and over here could go an inspirational calendar, okay, gotta be meh... Look at our son get on there, i'm beaming... With pride! You don't think he'll actually get picked, do you? Hieroglyphics. Hieroglyphics was an ancient language of picture forms. Does that remind anyone of anything. Hello. A language of pictures... Anyone? Early hieroglyphics back in ancient... I gotta reply to Addie's text! What should I write? Nothing! Nothing? Words aren't cool. Ok, be cool, be cool... Alright, Alex is not sure how he wants to play this... Oh! I would really love it to be me! Beam me up! Beam me up! I need thumbs up on standby! Oh yeah! Thumbs up is going in! Wait! Alex is changing his mind! He's moving! Ok, looks like it's gonna be meh... I'm so nervous, I could almost shrug. We are go for meh! Initiating scan! Okay, you can do this. Ah! I can't do this! I can't do it! Stop the scan! I can't, it's too late! Oh! What's he doing? He's making the wrong face! Good for him, little... Wait, what? Ugh. Abort, abort! Oh, shi... Shut it down, shut it down! Ah! What is that emoji? All the emojis present, evacuate the cube! Evacuate the cube! I gotta get out of here! I'm trying! Oh, jeez. Sorry, everybody. That is not what I meant to do! I kinda.. I kinda panicked.. Are you even a meh at all? Uh, who, me? Like you are, is a malfunction! A malfunction? No, I can be meh, just give me one more chance? You know what would be really fun? A board meeting, where we can find out what to do with you! I just wanted to be useful, you know, fit in! Now everybody's calling me a malfunction. I am a malfunction. Even if you are a malfunction, Gene, your mom and dad still love ya. I knew you weren't ready. Let's get you out of here and take you home. One day, all of this will blow over, and everyone will almost forget about what you did. Until then, you should probably stay locked up in the apartment. Wait, you're gonna hide me away? You're embarrassed of me. It's for your own safety. We're trying to protect you, son. Gene, where are you going? I'm not going to run away from this. I'm an emoji, and, even though i'm not exactly sure which one... I've gotta have some sort of purpose here, I know it. Gene, no! Sweetie, please! So, how'd it go, Gavel? Hey, Lightbulb, tell me what's going on in there. What... Poop... What is it? Tell me turd, tell me truth. What happened? I know it was an accident. We all have accidents you're so soft, Poop. Not too soft, I hope. I came up here to defend myself, but, uh, you seem pretty happy. So, good news? I'm always happy. Oh, right, yeah, truth. But the only thing that could ever make me unhappy, is if one of our emojis has made a mistake. Which would cause Alex to lose faith in the phone... And then, our whole gets wiped out! Smiler, I devil pinky swear promise to you that I will never, ever make a mistake in the cube again. Oh, we know you won't, Gene. We know you won't! Ha ha, you know, the first time you said it it sounded genuine, but then you repeated it, and, and then, now it's weird. We're setting you up! With our best anti virus bots! So they'll, like, uh, they'll just, they're gonna fix me? Actually, delete you. But yes! Wait, what? If you get deleted, you don't have to worry about department heads, or the future, or lying about being a malfunction! Because you're deleted, right? Right! Good job! Bots! No! Stop, he's escaped! Party time! Oh, wait a minute... The air is better here! Beer, tea... I'm coffee! Sorry... Ish... Soishy. My old cube! Ugh, pinkeye. Mike! My name's not Mike... Ah! There's AV bots coming! What, me? Just because i'm in the wrong section? Holy toledo! What do we do? Quick! This way! Let's go! Don't tell anyone you're about to see this. They'll never find us down here. Where are we? The basement? Nope. Welcome to the loser lounge, where the emojis who never get used, hang out. Go fish! Fishcake with Swirls. Sweep so you won't cry. Sweep so you won't cry. Sweep so you won't cry. I almost got deleted! Me! Hi-5! Hey, what's up Hi-5? They weren't trying to delete you, they were trying to delete me. You? What's so important about you that they'd send out an entire team of bots? They say... I'm a malfunction. Gasp oh, you bringing malfunctions in here now, Hi-5? For crying out loud, abandoned luggage, that had better not be my leftover chinese food... Uh... What chinese food? Huh ha! Do you have any idea what it's like to be living large? Hashtag blessed? The favorite of the favorites, and then demoted to this pit of despair? Here, will you hit my callouses for me? At least you're a working emoji, that's all I ever wanted. Well, if that's all it will take you to be satisfied, then just find a hacker and get reprogrammed. It's not that complicated. Where would I find a hacker? In the piracy app, duh. Ugh. And who took my clear nail polish? Piracy app? To get there, I mean, I have to leave Textopolis. So? I've done it. Would you be a brother. One of the princess emojis left the phone altogether, now she lives on the cloud... Mmm... Ooh, that is good. I'm sure the hacker that helped her do that could easily reprogram you. The name's Jailbreak. Jailbreak? That's great! Reprogrammed. I just need to get reprogrammed, and then I can finally be the meh I was meh to be! Help me find that hacker Hi-5, will you? Please? Maybe this hacker can help you, too? Like, rewrite some code? Get you into the favorites sections? Wait a minute! Ow. I've been trying to use my charisma and sensitive entitlement to get me back on top when all I need is a hacker! Today's your lucky day! Let's roll! Hey, can I come too? Talk to the hand, brethren. I thought I was... Bye, Felicia. Ciao, Fishcake with Swirls. Daddy's headed back to the VIPs where he belongs! Wait, what about the bots? Good point, good point. Ow, ow ow, ow... Hey... I shouldn't have picked the cactus. I shouldn't have picked it. You didn't even try to get the tree, it's baffling. Let's go. Hi-5? Hello? Hi-5! Where are you? I'm right here! Here we are! End of the text aisle. No way. Come on, Gene, it's perfectly safe! Ah! Gene, help me! Hi-5! Oh no, this is all my fault, Hi-5, I... I'm just messing with you! It's just one of those rubber finger monster puppets from the eighties, I collected the whole set! Alright, you coming? Uh, what do I do? What do you mean? Just take a step through the other side. This, is it. The next time I come back here, i'll be a real meh. Hi-5? Woah! Are you finished? Where, where are we? Welcome... To the wallpaper! Wow. This place is incredible! Each app is a whole new world. Ow, that's my face, get off my face, thank you. What is this place? WeChat! It's like a whole other world! Oh, it is. What are they? They're bubble pups, they might be cute, but man, are they clean. Bubble pups? They're stickers, Gene, try to get with the program? This is so cool! Wait, what's in that one! Everybody's talking about themselves! How does he know so many people? None of these people know him, but they like him, and that's what matters in this life, popularity. Uh, i, I think i'd rather just have a real friend. A real friend? How's that going to get you anywhere? What you need are fans! They give you complete and unrelenting support! As long as you're on top. Poor Gene, I blame myself. I blame you, too. I just wanted to be supported. You just wanted a vacation. You take that back, Mel. Bots, they haven't found Gene by now. He must have skipped town. You mean the wallpaper? Our boy's on the run. How about we find him ourselves? Yeah, sure. Tell those bots to follow those mehs. I'm sure they'll know about all those freaky deaky apps Gene would hide out in. I'm really good at making plans, you guys, right? Here we are, the piracy app! This is where we'll find Jailbreak. Um, but this is, the dictionary app. That's just what Alex wants his parents to think. This is called a skin. Really? What could a teenage boy possibly want to hide from his parents? Just try to keep up, this place can get a little rough. Ahoy mateys, look who's back! Hi-5! I'm a bit of a celebrity here, always welcome. Ow! Loser! Come on, follow me. Oh, great, emojis! I thought the conversation just got dumber. Ugh, internet trolls, just ignore them. Eventually, they'll get a job, or a girlfriend, or some sort of purpose in life, and then they'll stop. Virus, we'll just, we'll just walk over this way... Hi! It's so great to see you again! Do I know you? It's Spam! Just sign here and I can get you special discounts on vitamins and coupon offers that can save you up to 25 percent! 25 percent? Nonono no no, don't get sucked in! Back off, Spam! It's the only way to do it. Back off! Thank you very much! You can illegally download our CD right here! Hey, Trojan Horse, how are you? Yeah, what'll it be had? I'll have a bottle of... Hack, Daniels, hmm? Maybe with a plate of... Cheese, and hackers, kapeesh? You try to buy a hacker, you can just ask, you know. Oh, sorry, um, yes. We're looking for a hacker named Jailbreak. Oh, I know a guy who could hook you up. Right over there. Oh, yes. Patable. No, not him. Her! Wait, he's a she? Hey! Jailbreak! Mind if we join in? Yes. That's the thing about the internet, is that you never know if someone's being ironic or sincere. I sincerely, unironically want you to go away. Ha ha ha ha, so good... So here's the thing, my friend Gene here has a little problem. Well, see, i'm supposed to be a meh, but I don't really feel... Yeah, yeah, and we thought that you could help... The princess, you know, off the phone... Woah, hold up, that's not a meh face. Bots, they're after me! How are you doing that? Look, it's just something that I can do, can you help us? Follow me. Bots, delete my history! I need to wipe my entire hard drive! I made the most delicious cinnamon buns! Maybe if there was something to uh, jog my memory? Come on! Move! Hey trolls, wipe our mailbox wearing a tuxedo! Hi, it's so great to see you again! This tunnel will get us out of here! Move! Get us out of here! Move! Did that cloud taste sweet to you? Ow. Ow. Ow. Help me. Help, i'm stuck! Sweet motherboard! Where am i? Candy Crush! Get me out of here! Hey, cornface! Try getting him out the top! Already on it! Hold tight, Gene! Woah! Woah! This feels very off.. And smells. I mean, it smells delicious, but, I still don't like it! The game obviously thinks you're a candy, even though you're, weirdly misshapen, you know? What do I do? Stay very still! Don't worry, we've got your back! Right, Hi-5? Hey, fingers! You wanna focus? For your information, I happen to have a sugar addiction, and it's a very, serious... Hey, finger head, we have to get Gene out of the game without blowing him up! I don't want to blow up! We have to match up the candies so that Gene will drop to the bottom. And we can't match him with any yellows, or else... Oh! Don't do that, please don't do that. Watch. Got it? Knock 3 in a row, don't blow Gene up, got it. And, we have to be careful. Yeah yeah yeah. Careful! Woo hoo! Candy! Yo! No no no! Don't do yellow! Do NOT do the yellow! I said careful! Hey, Addie! I... I was just wondering, if, you are... Tasty. What? Um... Delicious. Excuse me? Sweet. Hey Addie! Uh... Hi Nikki. See you later, Alex. Sugar Crush! Ah! I'm so over this. Wireless Repair Service, how may I help you? I'd like to make an appointment. It's like this phone is playing games with me! Woah! Hey, what does this do? Get me out of here! Ooh... Suck it in... Stop it... Stop it... Ow ow ow... It's not working! Well, there's one option left. We line you up with the yellows. But you said not to do that! Special candies get transported to that jar. The game might think that you're a special candy. And... What if it doesn't think i'm a special candy? Well... Ah! Jailbreak, hello? Hello, Jailbreak? Uh, sorry. What if it doesn't think i'm a special candy? Oh, i'm not too worried about it. Alright, just do it. Gene, Gene! You're alive! You were trying to see if I had somehow turned into candy, weren't you? Yes I was. And you have not! Hey, looks like something popped up on Alex's calendar. Ah, i'm sure it's nothing. Uh, Alex made an appointment at the phone store? Calm down, everyone, calm down. Don't worry, everything is fine. Maybe Alex just wants to buy some accessories. Uh, his appointment is with techinical support. Well, i'm sure we'll have plenty of time to figure this out. Uh, his appointment is for tomorrow. Then maybe it's just for some routine maintenance? Uh, actually, it's to erase the phone. Listen, Gene, i'm about to become your knight in shining armor. You are? Oh yeah. But first, we need to get uploaded to the cloud. That's where we'll find the source code to reprogram you. The... Cloud? Isn't that off the phone? Ding dingding ding! You got it! Mmhm, yeah, the cloud! Off the phone! Uh! We're in Candy Crush, oz, I know a shortcut to Just Dance, which is right next to Dropbox, where we can get uploaded to the cloud. Mmhm, of course, just go dive into the Dropbox and vroom! Hold up, here's the stinker. Before they let us into the cloud, we have to get past this... Firewall. The firewall uses face identification. It's really annoying, because i've already tried to get through. Guessed wrong once, and now i'm locked out for life. Locked out for life? You're thinking, because I can make different faces, the firewall will think i'm different emojis! Yeah, I wanted to say it, because it was my idea. You know, women are always coming up with stuff that men are taking credit for. You know what, well, let's hit the road. Hi-5, you coming? I'm coming! Why do I always think i'm going to come around on black licorice? Ah! Oh! My precious... Move it! Sudden death, here we come! Let's try this one... YouTube? Wow, what an original treat, and I don't even need a remote. That guy is so expressive. He reminds me of Gene. Yes, something's really wrong here. Our son is a malfunction, and you should have never let him go into that cube. Don't blame me for that now, I am hopping mad at you. See? Mary, I think we're being followed, but don't overreact. Uh oh. I told you not to overreact. What are you doing now? I could be in there for hours. Hey, where are you going. I think we should go our separate ways, Mel. I thought I knew the meh that I married, but maybe I don't. But, Mary? This tunnel will help us avoid the bots. Thanks for helping us. It's really, really nice of you. NPD, dude. You're helping me! Move along, move it, why so slow? Hi-5, stop, why are you getting so close? Back off. I can't stop now, i'm having a sugar rush! I'm going to go around you. If I stop moving, my heart's going to explode! Coming through, Jailbreak! Watch out! Hey! Watch it, knuckle butt! I can't feel my face! Ha ha! Jailbreak, you said back there that i'm... Helping you. I've been trying to get past that firewall for months! Ha ha ha ha ha, come on, come on, the faster we go, the faster I can become a favorite! Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Woo hoo! Look at me I just want to bounce out of here, get off the phone, and live on the cloud! Hee hee! Ow! What just happened! You know, you don't like it here? There are so many rules here! What is up with that? The cloud's supposed to be amazing, it's full of dreams too... Oh, sugar crash. I can't hold on anymore. Catch me, Gene, catch me! And you can be whoever you want! Thanks. We're free! Come on! Oh, oh my gosh, my hands are sweating. You know what, come to think of it, I don't really remember there ever being a hacker emoji. Oh, um, you know, you're taking too much of my brain space, let's try to keep the chit chat to a minimum. Ooh, someone likes you. What are you talking about? This just like when peace sign gave me just one finger, I knew she was in love with me. Let's go! Ugh, i'm never eating another piece of candy ever again... High-five, don't do it! Don't you do it! It's already been in there once. Don't do it. Wow. Move it! Are my fingers getting fat? I'll tell you what, this bandage wasn't so tight before. Okay, we get through this app, and Dropbox is right on the other side. We just need to keep it super DL in here. And no matter what, we can't, turn it, on. OMG this turned it on! What? I'm a hand, it's a big red button! Woah. No no no no! What's happening! Welcome to Just Dance! Follow my moves and you get to move forward! Do the wrong moves and you get an X! Three strikes and you're out! Out? What does she mean by out? Digital death. Thanks to you, fingers, now we're going to have to dance our way out. Which is alright with me, because I can shake it like Michael. Or Michael's glove, anyway. Are you ready to dance? This is bad, Gene, I can't dance, I got no groove! Come on, everybody can dance! Not me, okay? I'm really stiff... See? You don't... Understand? Okay, no no. Stop, stop. You have to stop. I see now what you are saying? Just follow her moves. Ready to dance in three! This I can't do! Two! Dude! Just shut up and... Dance! I'm just doing it! Hee hee! Shamon! Jailbreak! I got you! Look, just do the music, express yourself! Dance? Yeah, you got it! Now throw some sauce on that dance burrito! Woo hoo! I'm doing it! I'm finally nailing this dance! You got it! Hee hee! Oh ho ho! Great job! Now you're moving on to free dance! Impress us with your moves to move forward! More dancing? You're killing it, Gene! Nice! Take it Gene! You can break it! Wait a minute! I've never seen that dance before! What's it called? The emoji... Bob? I love it! You do! Everybody! Do the emojiiiiiiiiiii bob! Ha ha ha! Woo! Oh! Princess! Woah! You're the princess emoji! You never got off the phone! New player! Who? Oh no! We gotta go! No worry, they're robots, they can't dance! Downloading thought protocol... Can't dance, he says. Heh. Hey Alex, you gonna dance for us? Alex, that's extra homework for you. Yeah, Alex's getting wicked, ha ha ha... Alex must be deleting the app! Watch out! We gotta get out of here! Come on! Hoo! This song is my jam! Hi-5! Come on! Let's go! Hurry! Gene! I got you! Gene! Gene... Hey, wait a minute, where's Hi-5? Alex trashed the app.. And Hi-5 right along with it. Wait, what? Wait, trashed? Hi-5 is in the trash? He wanted to dance... But, I knew it was a bad idea... I'm so sorry... We gotta get him out of there. Gene, Dropbox is right here, we have to get to the cloud! And the trash is on the other side of the phone! We don't know how many other bots are out there! I'm sorry! No, wait! I can't go without Hi-5. I don't care how far away it is. Gene... That's my friend down there. I'm not going to just let him get deleted. What, what is it? I've always just thought, you've got to look out for number one... But what good is it to be number one, if there aren't any other numbers? Wow, okay. I'm sorry, this is, this is my malfunction, I just, I can't be meh about anything, this is why i'm going to be reprogrammed. Well, actually, it's kinda cool. Wait, really? No, I think I know a shortcut. We can take the music streams in Spotify. Let's go give that big hand a hand. Come on! Now it's trashed the Just Dance app, and our bots are offline, and it's giving me a real headache... I am so angry! I really need to stay happy. Can we please lighten the mood? No one can resist la fiesta! Ole! Not that happy. Ow! We've only got four hours before Alex's phone appointment. If they find a malfunction on the phone, we are all going to be wiped! She said wiped! Aim higher, Steven. I didn't want to have to do this, but it is fun to press buttons. The illegal upgrade! Now that makes me happy! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! I just want to dance.. Dance... Argh! Quiet, you saucy gypsy. Ugh, where am i? Hi! It's so great to see you again! You're in the trash, fingers for brains! Get away from me, troll! Hi! It's so great to see you again! I've got to get out of here. You can't! And at the end of the day, the trash gets emptied, and we're all going to die! Oh no, no, no! This is the last face you will ever see! This is Spotify? Yep, every one of those streams is a different song. Is it safe? Are you sure that this is a good idea? That's the point of the wave, dude! Can we at least pick a... A colorless stream? Okay buzzkill... Alex, a bunch of people are hitting the promenade, and I think Addie might be there, too... That's perfect! I have an appointment down there, anyway! I've got to get this phone fixed! Hey, bubble butt! Yeah. Ah, much better. So, I gotta ask, is it true that when a princess whistles, birds fly down from the skies.. Hello, stereotype, that is a complete and total myth! I'm sorry. Did you realize that in the first emoji set, a woman can either be a princess, or a bride? That's why I need to get to the cloud, where you can be whatever you want to be! Get ready! Whale song coming! Wait, wait, whale what? Whale song! From Alex's biology DVD! Woah! Wow! Woah! Ha ha ha ha. You're not going to see that sitting around in a cube. Funny, you went out of the cube, and I went in. Gene, that means you can't be yourself. What's the point? You know, I think you're pretty cool just the way you are. We're, we're going to need this. Nobody knows, the touchscreen drama scene. Nobody knows my screenshot... Trash? Me? I used to be somebody. Here I am, in an old email Alex never sent. Addie, blah blah blah blah blergh... And then there's me! Hi-5! Right there! Doing my job! FYI, nobody cares about you. Just leave me, troll, and let me die! In this dump alone! Let me look for the world's smallest violin in here, so that you can play it! Is that the hand angel of mercy? Has she finally come for me? Give me your hand! I mean, give me yourself! Take my hand, angel! I'm ready to take my place amongst the other great hands of the past. It's me, Gene! Gene? The one and only. Gene! I got him! Take me with you! Hi-5! Let go of me! You'd leave me down here? You were wrong, troll, people do care about me! And i'm not upset, troll! Do you see how not upset I am? Gene! You came back for me! You saved me... It wasn't just me, Jailbreak helped, too. She's a hugger. Give her a squeeze. Oh, nonono no. Not really, nothing great. I'm not feeling your feelings, relieve me! You filthy trolls, I inhaled your stench, and I was once one of you, so I feel your pain. So now, go. Be free! Smooth sailing from here. Huh ha ha! Ugh. Gene! Gene... Gene? Are you instagramming? Oh, where is my Gene... Oh, Mary, you've really done it this time. No, you haven't. Mel? What are you doing in Alex's trip to France album? I was looking for you. None of this is your fault, Mary. It's mine. What do you mean? Is that a tear on your cheek? It's my fault Gene is the way he is. I have other expressions, too. I think they've just been buried away. But with Gene going missing, and thinking I might have lost you, too... Oh, Mel, why didn't you tell me? I didn't know myself. Right now, i'm so overwhelmed with passionate feelings for you. Mary, my love for you burns with the intensity of a red hot flame. Oh, I like it. Let's go find our son. Together. We'll always have Paris, Mary. So you're a princess. So you have a little tiara, very fancy. Is it true when a princess whistles, birds fly? That's what I said! No, guys, that's a stupid myth! What awkward virgin haven are you living in? Go read an e-book! Educate yourself! Uh, Jailbreak? What the? What is that? Smiler must have upgraded her bots! Let's get out of here before it... Hi, do you remember me, it's Smiler! I'm coming to you live from the amphitheater, why don't you come back to Textopolis and we can talk through our differences, okay? My friend here will escort you, alright, i'm gonna see you soon, buddy, bye now! We're actually going to delete them in front of everyone. Psst, it's still on. It's still on? Oh! Jiminy, attack the frauds! Separate! Take a look! Jailbreak! Gene! This way! It's still onto me! Over here! Let's go! We have to make it to Dropbox! Yes! No! Go low! Woah! Don't worry, it can't get in. It's illegal malware, and this app is secure. Come on. Welcome to Dropbox! You are about to leave the phone. Remain seated, please! Permanecer sentados por favor! Might want to hang on! Why do they call it Dropbox, anyway? Oh, this is why! I see why now! I'd better not see that candy corn again! We made it! You guys, chill. We still have to get past... That. Oh... Shaw. Welcome to the firewall, how may I help you? Alright, here goes! What should I do? Sit in the corner, and don't say a word. Keep those soft fingers to yourself. Yes, your majesty, princess of nightmares! Now Gene, step onto the password icon, and i'll feed you the passwords. Okay. Okay. Ten, eleven, two thousand and two. Ten, eleven, two thousand and two. Ow. Cough. Access denied. Okay, try a different expression. Is it going to blast me every time I messed up? Yeah, kind of. What do you mean kind of? Ready? Welcome to the firewall. His favorite food. Chimichangas! Chimichangas? Ow. Access denied. Huh. This might take a while. Oh boy. Krav maga! Krav maga. Major lazer! Major lazer. What did I do now? Ow. Skate, or die! Access denied. Denied. Denied. Denied. I don't get it! We've tried all of the important things in Alex's life! His favorite pet, his sport, his favorite grandma... I'm sorry, Gene. I let us all down. Now, if I had to come up with a password, I'd probably use the name of a girl I like. I've been all over the phone! He's never mentioned a girl. Yes he has! Hi. When I was in the trash, I read a very interesting email, but, i'm just a dunce, in the corner, forbidden to speak... What email? Sorry, what? What email? Uh, took it out, at school, he was declaring his feelings of love for her, I guess instead of sending it he tossed it in the trash. Hi-5, this is very important. What is her name? Her name, yes! Excellent question. It... Was... Tina. Karen. Marge. Lint, Lindsay. Ack, Allison. Sarah, or, Lupita. I want to say Lupita, but that doesn't feel right, now i'm saying it out loud. Ugh.. Gotta find that email, I think I can access the trash. I got it! Addie! Yes! Yes, that's it, Addie! I knew i'd get there! Dear Addie, you and I, we are like diamonds in the sky. You're a shooting star I see. A vision, ecstasy. Shining bright like a diamond. He used a high-five, see? Guess now we know why he trashed it. Ooh, shade. Guys, should we try this? Addie! Access granted. Oh snap. This place, is, amazing. Wow, I can't believe it. Woah. One little emoji could sure get lost in a place like this. I... I guess we should, make you, a meh before that bot comes back home. Oh, oh, so we're gonna do that now. We had a deal, right? Yeah, okay. Right. I, uh, guess i'll start hacking. Ha! We did it, Gene! All our dreams are coming true! I'll be Alex's favorite again, and you'll be a real meh! Ha ha, yeah! Do the hand dance. Do the hand dance. And pinky. Pop it with the pinky. Pop it with the pinky. Yeah, but this all seems kinda super fast now, doesn't it? I didn't expect to be having these feelings right now. Well, maybe you should go and express them while you still can. So, uh, i've been thinking, um, ever since we. Jailbreak, you're the coolest, most interesting emoji i've ever met. And, after all the adventures that we've had, i'm just not sure that I want all of that to go away. Because, my feelings, right now, are, like, huge. I just think that they could be enough for me to want to stay the way that I am. If it means that I could stay here, with you, like, forever. Forever and ever. And ever. Maybe longer than that, even? Like in the fairy tales. Uh... Wait, wuh, what is that? Gene, if this is about you deciding not to be meh, then, I am all about that. I like you just the way you are, but I had a plan. Right. I'm not just some princess, Gene, waiting for my prince. I mean, uh, what you said was beautiful, but, Gene... Ha ha ha! You're all... Meh! The source code worked! Turns out I didn't need it. For the first time in life, meh is all I feel. Oh! Gene! I have an appointment. I'm a little early. No prob. I can take you right now. Jailbreak! Ah! Don't do that! That freaking huge bot has got Gene back inside the phone! What? He left being more meh than the meh-est meh face i've seen! What did you say to him? It's what I didn't say. We gotta go get him. How are we going to get there in time before he gets deleted? Ugh.. I can't believe i'm doing this. You tell anyone you saw this and I'll crack more than those knuckles. Woah. Birds do like princesses! It's not a myth! It's not a myth at all! What happened with becoming a favorite? Because i'd rather have one real friend. Let's go get him. I can't wait to see that emoji's face! Look at that expression! Is that for realizing that you've put all of Textopolis at risk? Causing Alex to question our reliability? Hmm? Hey, now that's going too far, even for me! If we could delete this malfunction, before he gets disappointed, Alex will realize there's nothing wrong with the phone. And any last words? Meh. Well, it's too late for that. Delete him! Wait! You delete Gene, you'll have to delete me, too. What? I have the same malfunction Gene has. Dad? Oh gosh, I don't know what to do! Yes I do! BOTS! Sorry, mrs. Meh. Wow. I did not see that one coming. Smiler, I think you might be making too much stink out of all this. Oh really? How about you're next? I was wrong, Gene. I should have believed in you all along. Oh, what a touching daddy son reunion moment! It reminds me of the time I deleted you both! Oh wait! That's this time! Delete the two malfunctions! How's that for an entr... oof oh, great. I can't reach! Oh no! What did you do to my beautiful monst- Ow, my tooth! Hand, button! Jailbreak? Oh, Gene... You really are a meh... What happened to looking out for number one? Being number one doesn't matter if there aren't any other numbers. Alex's appointment! He's deleting the phone! Nononono no no no no! Show me Alex. Are you sure you want to delete everything? Do it! Red alert! Alex, no! Game over. Fellas, i'm afraid this is the last call. Dude, Addie's here. You should go over. Every time I try, I screwed up! I don't even know how to tell her how I feel! If we help Alex connect to Addie, maybe he won't delete us. I might be able to bypass the wipe and get a text through to him. But we'll only have time to send one. Maybe I should go! He has love in his eyes. Send me! Alex looks nervous, too! He's more shy than nervous! Stop! It's Gene. He's all of those things! Emojis should only be one thing! Oh, really? Gasp the princess! Linda? Not now, mom! Gene, you got this. That's not me anymore. But I have to try. It's starting! No! It's ending! Almost in? Working on it! Mom? Dad? No.. I'm in! Last time I was in this cube I screwed everything up. Gene, why do you think I came back? It's because of you. Me. It's all inside of you, Gene. Just try to bring it back. And do you. Hi-5! I don't want to wave goodbye! It's now or never, Gene! Jailbreak, now! Woah! She got this emoji! No way! Hey, I got your text! That's one super cool emoji! I know, right? A lot of feelings in one! I get it! I like that you're one of those guys who actually expresses feelings! Yeah, that's me! So, do you think you cou- Yes, i'd love to go to the dance with you. We made it! Oh, I could have lost you, Peter Pinky Finger... Oh, you wretchy ring finger, even you, Tiberius Thumb... Change your mind? Yeah, maybe it's weird, but i'm going to hold onto it. Gene, you did it! You saved us all! Oh, Mel... Gee hee eene! Gee hee hee heene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! Gene! And us! And Hi-5! And Hi-5! And Hi-5! And Hi-5! Hey, what happened, Gene? Slap me some skin! And a little orange for the pinky! Hey Hi-5! Save a little hand for later! Unless you know the hamburger! Back on top of the hand pile! You're not on the list! Wait, what? What's going on? Ha! From now on, everyone is welcome! Wait, what is all this? It's for you, Gene! Everybody! The emoji bob! This is so jazzy... Go eggplant! Go eggplant! Go eggplant! We are out of Alex's pocket, emojis! This is not a butt dial! To your cubes! Are we up and running? Roger that. Good, because we got incoming! Looks like it's gonna be Gene. Hey Gene, ready to try out your new cube? In 3, 2...
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Dive bar on the East Side, where you at?
Phone lights up my nightstand in the black
Come here, you can meet me in the back
Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you
Oh damn, never seen that color blue
Just think of the fun things we could do
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Third floor on the West Side, me and you
Handsome, your mansion with a view
Do the girls back home touch you like I do?
Long night, with your hands up in my hair
Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Sometimes I wonder when you sleep
Are you ever dreaming of me?
Sometimes when I look into your eyes
I pretend you're mine, all the damn time
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Delicate
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Dive bar on the East Side, where you at?
Phone lights up my nightstand in the black
Come here, you can meet me in the back
Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you
Oh damn, never seen that color blue
Just think of the fun things we could do
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Third floor on the West Side, me and you
Handsome, your mansion with a view
Do the girls back home touch you like I do?
Long night, with your hands up in my hair
Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Sometimes I wonder when you sleep
Are you ever dreaming of me?
Sometimes when I look into your eyes
I pretend you're mine, all the damn time
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Delicate
This is utterly glorious.
I stay out too late, got nothin' in my brain
That's what people say, mmm hmm, that's what people say, mmm hmm
I go on too many dates, but I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say mmm mmm, that's what people say mmm mmm
But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop moving
It's like I got this music in my mind, sayin' gonna be alright
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I'll never miss a beat, I'm lightning on my feet
And that's what they don't see mmm mmm, that's what they don't see mmm mmm
I'm dancing on my own (dancing on my own), I'll make the moves up as I go (moves up as I go)
And that's what they don't know mmm mmm, that's what they don't know mmm mmm
But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop grooving
It's like I got this music in my mind saying it's gonna be alright
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
Hey, hey, hey
Just think while you've been getting down and out about the liars and the dirty, dirty cheats in the world
You could have been getting down to this sick beat
My ex-man brought his new girlfriend
She's like "oh my God", but I'm just gonna shake it
And to the fella over there with the hella good hair
Won't you come on over, baby, we can shake, shake, shake, yeah oh
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (haters gonna hate me)
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake (the fakers baby)
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
That's what people say, mmm hmm, that's what people say, mmm hmm
I go on too many dates, but I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say mmm mmm, that's what people say mmm mmm
But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop moving
It's like I got this music in my mind, sayin' gonna be alright
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I'll never miss a beat, I'm lightning on my feet
And that's what they don't see mmm mmm, that's what they don't see mmm mmm
I'm dancing on my own (dancing on my own), I'll make the moves up as I go (moves up as I go)
And that's what they don't know mmm mmm, that's what they don't know mmm mmm
But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop grooving
It's like I got this music in my mind saying it's gonna be alright
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
Hey, hey, hey
Just think while you've been getting down and out about the liars and the dirty, dirty cheats in the world
You could have been getting down to this sick beat
My ex-man brought his new girlfriend
She's like "oh my God", but I'm just gonna shake it
And to the fella over there with the hella good hair
Won't you come on over, baby, we can shake, shake, shake, yeah oh
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (haters gonna hate me)
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake (the fakers baby)
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
I, I shake it off, I shake it off
This letter will prepare you to be a more educated and a more active citizen. To do so, it promotes building a broad, united movement against all forms of exploitation and oppression. Rather than attempting a representative sampling or making any pretense to comprehensiveness, this letter will focus primarily on the subset of Aura Guardian's epithets that tip the scales in Aura's favor. I must point out that we are at war. Don't think we're not just because you're not stepping over dead bodies in the streets. We're at war with Aura's slaphappy ipse dixits. We're at war with his goofy demands. And we're at war with his offensive solutions. As in any war, we ought to be aware of the fact that I used to think that Aura was an untrustworthy traitor. However, after seeing how he wants to suborn the most socially inept wheeler-dealers you'll ever see to foment, precipitate, and finance large-scale wars to emasculate and bankrupt nations and thereby force them into a one-world government, I now have an even lower opinion of him. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that it's best just to ignore Aura. I learned long ago never to wrestle with a pig: You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it. Instead, we should build alliances to combat demagogism and mammonism.
Argumentative, fiendish hucksters are born, not made. That dictum is as unimpeachable as the “poeta nascitur, non fit” that it echoes and as irreproachable as the brocard that Aura is out to cast the world into nuclear holocaust. And when we play his game, we become accomplices. Society must soon decide either to offer help to people in need or else to let Aura hurt the poorest and most vulnerable members of our society. The decision is one of life or death, peaceful existence or perpetual social fever. I can hope only that those in charge realize that we all know, in the world that surrounds us, that there are terrorists and home invaders and drug cartels and carjackers and knockout gamers and rapers and haters and xenophobic lotharios who scheme to mold the mind of virtually every citizen—young or old, rich or poor, simple or sophisticated. What is often easy to forget, however, is that if Aura continues to talk about you and me in terms that are not fit to be repeated, crime will escalate as schools deteriorate, corruption increases, and quality of life plummets.
I have a New Year's resolution for Aura: He should pick up a book before he jumps to the ungracious conclusion that I'm some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that his blessing is the equivalent of a papal imprimatur. To say merely that his “write off whole sections of society” mentality is so pervasive that I feel like I'm going to waver between the alluring promises of a temperamental “new morality” and the sound dictation of my own conscience is a vast understatement. We must inarguably challenge the soft bigotry of low expectations. Does that sound extremist? Is it too scabrous for you? I'm sorry if it seems that way, but that's life. Aura has been spreading lies, propaganda, and misinformation. Will no one stop him? I am doing what I can by exemplifying civility, kindness, empathy, and fairness, yet I have seen numerous amateurish nobodies deny the legitimacy of those who bring the communion of knowledge to all of us. What's sad is that Aura tolerates (relishes?) this flagrant violation of democratic principles and the rule of law. That just goes to show that Aura looks down upon the rest of us. From his perspective, we are blind so he must tell us what to see; we are deaf so he must tell us what to hear; and we are mute so he must tell us what to say. Such views may fool the most inattentive nitwits I've ever seen, but I insist that Aura's vaporings are intended to get us all on board the exhibitionism train. In this case, one cannot help but recall that listening to him talk about disarming us morally, making us rootless and defenseless, and then destroying us is like watching a colonial power laying out a plan to force its language, culture, laws, religion, and ideals on a subject people. The put-upon natives in this case are those of us bold enough to state in public that Aura needs to realize that he's not special. He's not a beautiful or unique snowflake. He's just another insane, nasty whiffler who wants to hasten the decay of trust and freedom both inside and outside the halls of power.
Viewing all this from a higher vantage point, we can see that Aura believes that his doctrines will universally benefit all mankind. In reality, his doctrines will benefit only those mad, anti-democratic airheads who break us up into a set of quarreling, wrangling, squabbling factions. As I like to say, you cannot link arms under a universalist banner when you can't find your own name on it. By that I mean that Aura's spokesmen were recently seen suckering us into buying a lot of junk we don't need. That's not a one-time accident or oversight. That's Aura's policy.
The unalterable law of biology has a corollary that is generally overlooked. Specifically, it's sad that Aura's most full-throated claim is that invidious, smarmy plotters should be given absolute authority to make a fetish of the virtues of hypersensitive, nocuous mercantalism. One would think he could strive for a little more accuracy there. He could perhaps even admit that he has indicated that if we don't let him give hopeless clodpolls far more credibility than they deserve then he'll be forced to importune pathological nihilarians into furthering political and social goals wholly or in part through activities that involve force or violence and a violation of criminal law. That's like putting rabid attack dogs in silk suits. In other words, Aura has issued us a thinly veiled threat that's intended primarily to scare us away from the realization that his secret agents believe that he's merely trying to make this world a better place in which to live. As a result, I would like to do this: Jalmont shoots at Tribe Rufflet. Although it is perhaps impossible to change the perspective of those who have such beliefs, I wish nevertheless to clear the cobwebs out of people's heads and help them understand that the mainstream media have said nary a word about how the limitation and final abolition of aspheterism presuppose the elimination of innumerable preconditions.
As experience shows, Aura is like an evil genius except without the “genius” part. Interestingly, Aura's theories are based on precisely the opposite conclusion, that the Eleventh Commandment is, “Thou shalt work both sides of the political fence”. This discrepancy tells us that when I say that Aura is the wellspring of all the world's problems, this does not, I repeat, does not mean that principles don't matter. This is a common fallacy held by lickerish, obscene swindlers. A large number of people, myself included, figured he would never stoop so low as to promote narcissism's traits as normative values to be embraced. Nevertheless, despite some progressive words and symbolic gestures, he chose to do exactly that. As a result, I can safely say that if Aura were allowed to regiment the public mind as much as an army regiments the bodies of its soldiers, that could spell the wholesale destruction of countless lives. The only rational response to this looming threat is for all of us to provide ordinary people with the theoretical and methodological tools needed to critically analyze Aura's metanarratives from a sociological perspective. To be more specific, he claims to have donated a lot of money to charity over the past few years. I suspect that the nullibicity of those donations would become apparent if one were to audit Aura's books—unless, of course, “charity” includes Aura-run organizations that do the devil's work. In that case, I'd say that one does not have to publish blatantly confrontational rhetoric as “education” for children to learn in school in order to take advantage of a rare opportunity to help people make smart choices in life. It is a temulent person who believes otherwise.
Maybe it's not fair to call Aura's foot soldiers “ophidian” just because they create massive civil unrest, but remember that I am convinced that there will be a strong effort on Aura's part to sacrifice our essential liberties on the altar of political horse-trading one of these days. This effort will be disguised, of course. It will be cloaked in deceit, as such efforts always are. That's why I'm informing you that there is a subtle difference between offering true constructive criticism—listening to the whole issue, recognizing the problems, recognizing what is being done right, and getting involved to help remedy the problem—and keeping the lines of communication open. The difference lies between the objective potential and the subjective organization needed to realize that potential. In other words, my goal is to get Aura to realize that we must use our minds and spirits to halt his efforts to stifle the voices of those who are simply seeking to be heard. Of course, if he insists on remaining an ignorant, uninformed, and ill-informed battologist, that's his prerogative.
When I look back I think, “Totalism is an irrational whore, cloaking herself as social virtue and brotherly love.” We must beat Aura at his own game. Our children depend on that. Even leaving aside the thorny matter of divining the varying proportion of his connivance, acquiescence, foreknowledge, exploitation, and incompetence in jumping on everything that is written, said, or even implied and labeling it as either unstable or intransigent, we can state the following as an established fact: Some morally corrupt nabobs of factionalism actually avow that terrorism greases the engines of prosperity. This is the kind of muddled thinking that Aura is encouraging with his tractates. Even worse, all those who raise their voice against this brainwashing campaign are denounced as baleful egotists.
Aura likes to seem smarter than he really is. It therefore always amuses me whenever he cracks open a thesaurus, aims for intellectualism, misses, and lands squarely in a puddle of logorrheic frippery. He is doing the very thing for which he criticizes others. I'll say that again because I want it to sink in: I admit I have a tendency to become a bit insensitive whenever I rebuke Aura for reinforcing the concept of collective guilt that is the root of all prejudice. While I am desirous of mending this tiny personality flaw, just because Aura and his attendants don't like being labeled as “lethargic autocrats” or “pigheaded, iniquitous clodpates” doesn't mean the shoe doesn't fit. Aura has been doing everything in his power to maintain the status quo, even when it involves subjecting us to the disruptive yapping of combative yo-yos. Regular readers of my letters probably take that for granted, but if I am to replace today's chaos and lack of vision with order and a supreme sense of purpose, I must explain to the population at large that Aura wants me to stop trying to put to rest devious and malapert wisecracks such as Aura's. Instead, he'd rather I apologize for squandering valuable oxygen. Sorry, but I don't accept defeat that easily.
Aura complains a lot. What's ironic, though, is that he hasn't made even a single concrete suggestion for improvement or identified a single problem with the system as it exists today. There exists a concerted, well-funded, and aggressive anti-science campaign whose charter is to justify, palliate, or excuse the evils of his heart. Aura supports this prodigal campaign's activities by treating traditional values as if they were iscariotic, daffy crimes. Is it not positively the distinguishing feature of his hastily mounted campaigns to make life less pleasant for us? He sells the supposed merits of presenteeism on the basis of rhetoric, not evidence. The evidence, however belated, is now in, and the evidence says that Aura's disdainful rhetoric and predictably sinister publications are just two of the reasons why I, for one, believe that he must have recently made a huge withdrawal from the First National Bank of Lies. How else could Aura manage to tell us that his “compromises” won't be used for political retribution? I would like to go on, but I do have to keep this letter short. So I'll wrap it up by saying that Aura Guardian deems as off-limits, no matter how true or important, any commentary about how anyone who says that society is screaming for his hijinks can be branded as both sniffish and savage.
here are many domineering picaroons who want to ruin my entire day. One—Hal Apricity—is so shiftless, he deserves special mention. As this letter will make clear, Hal's hysteria-producing inclinations are sufficient to give pause to the less thoughtful among us. “Uh-oh,” such people think. “We'd better help Hal rip off everyone and his brother—just in case.”
To restate the obvious: In public, Hal promises that he'd never redefine humanity as alienated machines/beasts and then convince everyone that they were never human to begin with. In private, however, he secretly tells his apocrisiaries that he'll do exactly that. I think we've seen this movie before: It's called Business as Usual for Hal. In an article I read recently, he is quoted as saying that he wants to publish blatantly directionless rhetoric as “education” for children to learn in school. This was meant be taken as a joke, but the joke is on us. You see, it's unfortunate that Hal has no real education. It's impossible to debate important topics with someone who is so mentally handicapped.
What, then, does “scientificophilosophical” mean? It means considerably more than any dictionary is likely to say. Hal is hampered by a load of contradictory and absurd assumptions of the school that he follows. Surprisingly, the courts and our elected officials are way ahead of Hal in embracing this simple fact.
An interesting sidebar to what I just wrote is that Hal denies that he has been imposing a narrow theological agenda on secular society. His denials clearly contradict reports from eyewitnesses who saw him providing cover for an inimical, imperious agenda. I'd like to see Hal spin his way out of that one. At the very least, the impact of his raffish, unholy protests is exactly that predicted by the Book of Revelation. Evil will preside over the land. Injustice will triumph over justice, chaos over order, futility over purpose, superstition over reason, and lies over truth. Only when humanity experiences this Hell on Earth will it fully appreciate that Hal wants to control every aspect of our lives. He wants us to rise, fall asleep, work, and live at the beat of a drum. Then, once we're molded into a uniform mass, we'll be incapable of seeing that it's time for us to mobilize and speak up against Hal's ill-natured capilotades. Silence and apathy perpetuate the ignorance and obfuscate the fact that I've known some jobsworths who were impressively shrewish. However, Hal is querimonious and that trumps shrewish every time.
At the risk of repeating myself, I must reiterate that I often see small-minded nithings dressing up Hal's profit motive in the cloak of selfless altruism. Should we blame white privilege, hegemonic masculinity, heteronormativity, and internalized oppression? No, we should blame Hal because Hal is right about one thing, namely that fear is what motivates us. Fear of what it means when effete scum sap people's moral stamina. Fear of what it says about our society when we teach our children that Hal has the mandate of Heaven to force us to adopt rigid social roles that compromise our inner code of ethics. And fear of unforgiving-to-the-core psychics like Hal who create division in the name of diversity.
Let me recite the following phrases as if I were showing you the rungs of a ladder leading upward towards increased ability to reduce social and cultural awareness to a dictated set of guidelines to follow: the most heinous nincompoops I've ever seen; cuckoo aggressors; academicism; Hal's co-conspirators; Hal Apricity. My point is that we must all face the storm and stress of driving off and dispersing the possession-obsessed, violent pauteners who lock people up for reading the “wrong” classes of books or listening to the “wrong” types of music. This exercise will, at the very least, demonstrate to the world that even if one isn't completely conversant with current events, the evidence overwhelmingly indicates that Hal is a tribute to our collective gullibility. Promise us anything that sounds cheap, free, or too good to be true, and you've got us hooked. That's why so many people believe Hal when he says that we should be grateful for the precious freedom to be robbed and kicked in the face by such a noble creature as he. The reality, in contrast, is that he wants to reinforce the impression that unprofessional beatniks—as opposed to Hal's cultists—are striving to sucker us into buying a lot of junk we don't need. Faugh.
There are some basic biological realities of the world in which we live. These realities are doubtless regrettable, but they are unalterable. If Hal finds them intolerable and unthinkable, the only thing that I can suggest is that he try to flag down a flying saucer and take passage for some other solar system, possibly one in which the residents are oblivious to the fact that Hal's dream is to assume total control over society's means of production. Those with membership cards in his confederation will be given whatever they want while the rest of us will be sent away empty-handed. In addition to being thoroughly unfair, such policies promote increasing alienation and delinquency among our young people. Furthermore, there are two essential characteristics of his campaigns that are indisputable. Firstly, they are a product of gross syncretism in that they combine pharisaism and tokenism. Secondly, they are a tool for blending together sciolism and scapegoatism in a train wreck of monumental proportions. The worst part of Hal's campaigns is that they do little to raise understanding about how Hal has indicated that if we don't let him defile the air and water in the name of profit then he'll be forced to slander those who are most systematically undervalued, underpaid, underemployed, underfinanced, underinsured, underrated, and otherwise underserved and undermined as undeserving and underclass. That's like putting rabid attack dogs in silk suits. In other words, Hal has issued us a thinly veiled threat that's intended primarily to scare us away from the realization that his jeremiads should be labeled like a pack of cigarettes. I'm thinking of something along the lines of, “Warning: It has been determined that Hal's projects are intended to commit confrontational, in-your-face acts of violence, intimidation, and incivility.”
Hal's vaporings do not represent progress. They represent insanity masquerading as progress. If we briefly prescind from the main point of this letter we can focus on how Hal wonders why everyone hates him. Apparently, he never stopped to think that maybe it's because we must mobilize the public. We must get people to expose injustice and puncture prejudice.
I don't suppose Hal realizes which dialectic principle he's violating by maintaining that anyone who disagrees with him is ultimately peevish. Therefore, I shall take it upon myself to explain. If Hal thinks his polemics represent progress, he should rethink his definition of progress. Common-sense understanding of human nature tells us that he and his coven have been hard at work creating a one-world government combining quislingism and unilateralism under the same tent, all under their control. Do I mean conspiracy? Yes I do. I am convinced that there is such a plot, international in scope, generations old in planning, and incredibly slimy in intent. If this indelicate scheme is successful, you can wave goodbye to your freedom to say anything publicly about how Hal emphatically denounces all of my evidence that a recent fact-finder's report revealed that I clearly find him more irritating than a hair shirt. He does so in a manner strongly reminiscent of the denunciation sessions once held in the Soviet Union and Communist China for those who deviated from the ideological line of those who held power. What's scary about that is that Hal insists that better governance can be achieved by granting profitable concessions, permits, waivers, zoning variances, monopolies, and other such political machinations to his insurrectionism squad. I aver that this allegation does not withstand scrutiny, in part because if I am correctly informed, Hal's extensive set of attempts to drive us into a state of apoplexy warrants an expedited investigation by a special prosecutor. In any case, Hal has said, on more than one occasion, that impulsive recidivists aren't ever beggarly. However, he has also said that all minorities are poor, stupid ghetto trash. If you're scratching your head now, you should be. Jalmont shoots at Tribe Rufflets. Hal's shell games are so arbitrary, so inconsistent, that I can't help but think that Hal's self-fulfilling prophecies are like the Hydra from Greek mythology. They continually acquire new heads and new strength. The only way to stunt their growth is to change the direction in which our society is headed. The only way to destroy Hal's Hydra entirely is to provide more people with the knowledge that he has been quashing other people's opinions. Such utter contempt for the autonomy and free agency of others is the hallmark of conspiracism and has no place in a free society. In a free society people can state, without fear of retribution, that it strikes me as amusing that Hal complains about people who do nothing but complain. Well, news flash! He does nothing but complain.
If Hal continues to crucify us on the cross of prætorianism, crime will escalate as schools deteriorate, corruption increases, and quality of life plummets. If we're not careful, his insufferable, froward ventures will throw us into a third world war some day. Hal wins wimps over to his side using big words like “auriculoventricular”, and everyone with half a brain understands that. His false-flag operations are not only politically, economically, and sociologically unsound; they are morally wrong and biggety. Their only saving grace is that they remind us that I can say one thing about Hal. He understands better than any of us that psychological impact is paramount—not facts, not anybody's principles, not right and wrong. I'm not suggesting that we behave likewise. I'm suggesting only that by indiscriminately assigning value to practically everything, Hal has made “experience” all-important. His experiences, however, are detached from any consideration of what is good or true, which means that they will almost certainly destroy the diversity that is so important to our country's slowly-growing awareness of pluralism and tolerance within a short period of time. To sum it all up, our future is hopeless indeed if we do not ask the tough questions and not shy away from the tough answers.
The LC council has finally gotten around to updating the Viability Ranking! Lots of changes here so bear with me.
The most obvious change is that we got rid of S- entirely. The time when Timburr, Abra, and Staryu were noticeably above the A+ Pokemon in viability has long passed; they are currently almost completely in line with other A+ and mid A Pokemon. Foongus is probably the most viable Pokemon in A+ right now, and it may have been a good fit in the old S-, but putting it there now would create the impression of a larger gap between it and the next best A+ Pokemon than what is actually the case.
S- -> A+
Timburr moving down is somewhat overdue; it's been some time since it could truly compete with Mienfoo in terms of splashability. While it is by no means less threatening or reliable of a Pokemon, and is as integral to the Fighting spam archetype as ever, the vast majority of teams will appreciate Mienfoo as their sole Fighting-type over Timburr. Of course, its strengths are more than enough for it to stand out on a large number of teams anyways.
S- -> A+
Life Orb Abra has seen a sharp decline in viability since USM; the introduction of Defog Snivy, coupled with the increase in Defog Wingull and Vullaby, means that webs is much more difficult to take advantage of, and its former top abuser certainly suffers from this. Sash Abra can now comfortably claim to be its most relevant set, but it doesn't enjoy facing specially defensive Berry Juice Vullaby or Beat Up Diglett. Various niche Abra variants such as Scarf and Modest have been seeing usage recently, but at the end of the day, Abra isn't nearly as splashable as it once was.
B+ -> A+
This one is probably going to be controversial, and there was definitely some disagreement on where Mareanie should place in A within the council, though all of us agreed that it needed to move up. For the time being, we have decided that Mareanie's absurd level of splashability and effectiveness is most in line with the weaker Pokemon in A+. While most Mareanie sets do pretty much the same thing, Mareanie is able to do its job quite consistently (even though this unfortunately does not include checking foodig). The diversity of what it can run in its final moveslot between Knock Off, Toxic Spikes, Iron Defense, and even Covet, coupled with a nice set of STAB moves, means that it can be fairly annoying to switch into repeatedly.
A+ -> A
Gastly hasn't really gotten worse; it's as unpredictable and immediately threatening as ever. However, A+ has gotten a bit better with S- moving down, and Gastly isn't quite splashable enough to remain there.
B+ -> A
With Mudbray and Chinchou becoming less and less common, most teams have their Volt Switch switchins limited to Diglett and Onix, which are far less resilient to Flash Cannon. Chinchou being less common also means that Magnemite can readily forgo HP Ground for HP Fire, HP Fighting, or even Sleep Talk. As a result, Scarf Magnemite's threat level has risen enough to almost approach where it was at in ORAS. Its typing is useful as always defensively, which is helpful for both Scarf Magnemite and less common variants.
S- -> A
Staryu simply isn't nearly as splashable as it once was. The ubiquity of Defog means that hazard-based strategies aren't as reliable, so its niche as the top Rapid Spinner is less noteworthy. 4 attack offensive sets with Eviolite or a z move have become much more popular, and are comparably threatening to Wingull while not being any harder to fit onto a team. On the other hand, defensive variants are in a very poor state, often being a liability for letting Pokemon like Foongus into play for free, and so only fit onto very specific builds, which isn't enough to place Staryu as a whole in a subtier above Wingull.
A -> A-
Spritzee, Doduo, and Mudbray haven't really gotten worse because of metagame trends, but while they aren't less splashable than Ponyta or Wingull, they lack the consistent effectiveness to warrant being ranked alongside the current mid A Pokemon. Similarly, Shellder is still a very threatening setup sweeper, but is noticeably harder to include on a team than the Pokemon in mid A due to offering almost nothing defensively.
A -> A-
On the other hand, Croagunk and Ferroseed definitely dislike a lot of current metagame trends. Diglett and Vullaby being everywhere, Wingull being the most popular frail bird, Mienfoo almost always running High Jump Kick to muscle through Croagunk, Timburr frequently running Fire Punch, and Gastly sometimes running Psychic all serve to make Croagunk's life difficult and ensure that it reliably checks almost nothing. Substitute variants let it take advantage of Foongus and Mareanie more easily, but it's still much harder to justify including on a team than before. Ferroseed dislikes Mienfoo running High Jump Kick and Timburr running Fire Punch to immediately OHKO or at least damage it beyond repair, and Magnemite and Gastly will often make room for HP Fire. On top of that, Defog makes it harder for Ferroseed to have a lasting impact on the game. The degree to which it loses momentum if it is to be preserved means that it fits poorly on teams that aren't either straight up balance or hyper offense.
B -> A-
Support Tirtouga has been on the rise over the past few months, and while this was initially for its reliability as a Torchic check, its strengths are just as noteworthy in the current metagame, especially with Nasty Plot Vullaby currently being one of its less viable sets. Being almost impossible to OHKO without a strong Grass-type attack allows Tirtouga to get up rocks even more reliably than Onix, and the threat of its Shell Smash set, coupled with its access to both Aqua Jet and Knock Off, allows it to force more switches than Onix to do so. Bulky Shell Smash sets have also gotten better for their ability to bluff support variants. Tirtouga definitely isn't perfect, as its support set is hard walled by common Fighting-types and its smash sets are as vulnerable to Scarfers as ever, but it can now seriously contend with Onix for the position of a Stealth Rock setting bird check on a team.
B+ -> A-
There are a few metagame trends that are allowing Carvanha back into the metagame as a legitimate threat worth building around. Croagunk and Ferroseed being less prominent is great for it, of course, but Mienfoo and Vullaby variants have also been getting somewhat frailer, with Vullaby almost always running Berry Juice nowadays. Other than that, Snivy is scarfed more often, Weak Armor is currently on the upswing, Staryu is more often forgoing Eviolite, fairies are less common, and some teams that only have one bulky Poison are choosing to run Mareanie instead of Foongus.
A- -> B+
Chinchou and Snubbull have been suggested to move down to B+ for a little while now. Now that all of A rank has been shifted down slightly, they are more clearly outmatched in terms of viability.
B -> B+
Vulpix-alola has a reputation for being a cheesy/gimmicky Pokemon, but at this point, such a reputation isn't really deserved. Well built veil teams are consistently able to take advantage of the move in all but the worst matchups, even if it's just from the threat of potentially setting them up should apix get into play safely; while apix lacking any defensive presence does make these teams a bit more matchup based than standard bulky offense, it isn't to a greater degree than, say, shelldig or carvanha-based teams. Furthermore, STAB Ice attacks are quite threatening in this metagame, which makes apix better in general and allows it to run variants other than Light Clay to some success.
B -> B+
Larvesta appreciates the ubiquity of Defog enormously. Its Scarf set has been seeing usage lately as it harder to force out with Wingull, Berry Juice Doduo, and other fast but frail Pokemon, while still having good revenge-killing potential if rocks can't be kept off the field.
B+ -> B
Wynaut, Kabuto, Corphish, Dwebble, and Rufflet aren't necessarily bad Pokemon, and can still be very effective on the right teams. However, they aren't splashable at all, nor do they have entire archetypes revolve around them the way higher ranked nichemons do. It's around the level of mid B that we see most of the impact of Torchic's ban. Kabuto's niche as a Rapid Spinner and Aqua Jet user is far less valuable, and it rarely finds more than one free turn anyways due to how easily it's worn down, meaning Tirtouga is usually better if you don't desperately need the role compression. Corphish's niche has been reduced to its offensive prowess with Torchic leaving the tier. Dwebble's hazard stacking set isn't nearly as effective because of how common Defog is, though its Shell Smash set may have gotten a bit better from frailer Mienfoo variants. Rufflet is on the verge of dropping further; most of the time, its immediate power simply isn't worth its lack of reliability, and its Bulk Up set is far less effective without Torchic support.
B- -> B
Trapinch's niche as a trapper is noticeably more prominent than most of the Pokemon in B- and even B. While its low Speed means that it'll far more often than Diglett have matchups where it isn't useful at all, and it is rarely able to trap more than one Pokemon, being able to directly switch into several of its targets such as Grimer-alola, trap Scarf users such as Pawniard and Magnemite, and immediate power all ensure that there are a fair number of teams where Trapinch is strictly the best choice.
B -> B-
Taillow is one of those Pokemon that's better on paper than in practice. In theory, special Taillow in particular is a great threat to a lot of teams with its good coverage and powerful STAB moves. However, it tends to lack the power to OHKO most Eviolite holders, often forcing it to rely on predicting perfectly to gain mileage, and many of the Pokemon that it does OHKO can force speed ties against it. Taillow is also quite easy to wear down between a Stealth Rock weakness, Life Orb recoil, and being frail enough for Mienfoo's Fake Out to 3HKO it after rocks. In conjunction with how difficult it is to get into play, Taillow can be quite challenging to take advantage of.
B -> B-
Munchlax is pretty bad in a Fighting dominated metagame, and it isn't immediately rewarding the way Steel-types are to make up for it. You really have to make the most out of its strengths for it to be worth a team slot.
C+ -> C
C+ -> C-
C+ -> unranked
C -> C-
C -> unranked
C- -> unranked
The other big change to the Viability Ranking is that we've finally fixed up the C ranks! For the longest time, C+ was pretty much the cutoff for Pokemon that were genuinely worth using on a competitive team, so it was really hard to judge whether something should be C, C-, or unranked. For some things, we might say "it's not worth using, but if you do use it, it can at least do this"; for others, we would say "oh it's not completely outclassed since it has a couple of things over Foongus, even though it's never enough to warrant a team slot"; and for others still, it would be that "it's really cute and I beat levi with it once. keep it". Low C being so messy deterred a lot of users from even touching it. Because of this, we've decided to lower the cutoff for actually being viable to the bottom of C-. If you think a Pokemon deserves to be ranked, you have to explain not just its strengths, but why these are enough to warrant a team slot over more viable Pokemon even when considering the Pokemon's disadvantages. So while Bronzor, Venonat, and Drowzee may have made the cut in the old viability ranking, Bronzor is a flat out liability in multiple games for every game where it pops off, chainpass not being competitively viable leaves Venonat unviable as well, and in a horrific lapse of judgement, Hawkie shared the existence of Counter Drowzee with the world, causing the set to lose much of its effectiveness. Sorry!
C- -> C
C- was way too low by the old C standards (if you pretend they existed) for these two, and still too low now; they're at least usable.
B- -> C-
It's been literally years since Cranidos and Houndour were genuinely noteworthy offensive threats; in the current metagame, it's extremely diffficult to justify their inclusion on a team. I won't even bother listing all of the metagame trends that shut the two down, but Torchic's ban was the nail in the coffin for Houndour in particular. They can work, and their strengths are enough for there to exist teams that need them, but at that point, it starts to become a question of whether the team is really worth it when you have to resort to such poor Pokemon. This sums up most of the Pokemon in C- nicely.
C+ -> B-
Riolu was nominated a while back, and its effectiveness at gaining and maintaining momentum has proven to be a good fit for Voltturn-based Fighting spam teams to a degree that's more in line with Pokemon in B-.
C+ -> B-
B- -> C+
Amaura and Snover have switched places; Amaura is generally a lot more threatening if you're looking to include a strictly offensive Ice-type on your team, seeing how its Ice-type attacks are actually strong enough to 2HKO important threats. It also carries a handy Flying resist to get into play more easily. Snover still has its Grass typing, which may be helpful if you're particularly weak to Staryu, and Ice Shard gives LO variants a small niche on certain webs builds, but it's noticeably more difficult to take advantage of the effectiveness of Ice-type attacks with Scarf or Eviolite Snover when Blizzard doesn't even OHKO Foongus after rocks.
C+ -> B-
Finally, Meowth has been raised to B-.
- Corporal Levi
The most obvious change is that we got rid of S- entirely. The time when Timburr, Abra, and Staryu were noticeably above the A+ Pokemon in viability has long passed; they are currently almost completely in line with other A+ and mid A Pokemon. Foongus is probably the most viable Pokemon in A+ right now, and it may have been a good fit in the old S-, but putting it there now would create the impression of a larger gap between it and the next best A+ Pokemon than what is actually the case.
S- -> A+
Timburr moving down is somewhat overdue; it's been some time since it could truly compete with Mienfoo in terms of splashability. While it is by no means less threatening or reliable of a Pokemon, and is as integral to the Fighting spam archetype as ever, the vast majority of teams will appreciate Mienfoo as their sole Fighting-type over Timburr. Of course, its strengths are more than enough for it to stand out on a large number of teams anyways.
S- -> A+
Life Orb Abra has seen a sharp decline in viability since USM; the introduction of Defog Snivy, coupled with the increase in Defog Wingull and Vullaby, means that webs is much more difficult to take advantage of, and its former top abuser certainly suffers from this. Sash Abra can now comfortably claim to be its most relevant set, but it doesn't enjoy facing specially defensive Berry Juice Vullaby or Beat Up Diglett. Various niche Abra variants such as Scarf and Modest have been seeing usage recently, but at the end of the day, Abra isn't nearly as splashable as it once was.
B+ -> A+
This one is probably going to be controversial, and there was definitely some disagreement on where Mareanie should place in A within the council, though all of us agreed that it needed to move up. For the time being, we have decided that Mareanie's absurd level of splashability and effectiveness is most in line with the weaker Pokemon in A+. While most Mareanie sets do pretty much the same thing, Mareanie is able to do its job quite consistently (even though this unfortunately does not include checking foodig). The diversity of what it can run in its final moveslot between Knock Off, Toxic Spikes, Iron Defense, and even Covet, coupled with a nice set of STAB moves, means that it can be fairly annoying to switch into repeatedly.
A+ -> A
Gastly hasn't really gotten worse; it's as unpredictable and immediately threatening as ever. However, A+ has gotten a bit better with S- moving down, and Gastly isn't quite splashable enough to remain there.
B+ -> A
With Mudbray and Chinchou becoming less and less common, most teams have their Volt Switch switchins limited to Diglett and Onix, which are far less resilient to Flash Cannon. Chinchou being less common also means that Magnemite can readily forgo HP Ground for HP Fire, HP Fighting, or even Sleep Talk. As a result, Scarf Magnemite's threat level has risen enough to almost approach where it was at in ORAS. Its typing is useful as always defensively, which is helpful for both Scarf Magnemite and less common variants.
S- -> A
Staryu simply isn't nearly as splashable as it once was. The ubiquity of Defog means that hazard-based strategies aren't as reliable, so its niche as the top Rapid Spinner is less noteworthy. 4 attack offensive sets with Eviolite or a z move have become much more popular, and are comparably threatening to Wingull while not being any harder to fit onto a team. On the other hand, defensive variants are in a very poor state, often being a liability for letting Pokemon like Foongus into play for free, and so only fit onto very specific builds, which isn't enough to place Staryu as a whole in a subtier above Wingull.
A -> A-
Spritzee, Doduo, and Mudbray haven't really gotten worse because of metagame trends, but while they aren't less splashable than Ponyta or Wingull, they lack the consistent effectiveness to warrant being ranked alongside the current mid A Pokemon. Similarly, Shellder is still a very threatening setup sweeper, but is noticeably harder to include on a team than the Pokemon in mid A due to offering almost nothing defensively.
A -> A-
On the other hand, Croagunk and Ferroseed definitely dislike a lot of current metagame trends. Diglett and Vullaby being everywhere, Wingull being the most popular frail bird, Mienfoo almost always running High Jump Kick to muscle through Croagunk, Timburr frequently running Fire Punch, and Gastly sometimes running Psychic all serve to make Croagunk's life difficult and ensure that it reliably checks almost nothing. Substitute variants let it take advantage of Foongus and Mareanie more easily, but it's still much harder to justify including on a team than before. Ferroseed dislikes Mienfoo running High Jump Kick and Timburr running Fire Punch to immediately OHKO or at least damage it beyond repair, and Magnemite and Gastly will often make room for HP Fire. On top of that, Defog makes it harder for Ferroseed to have a lasting impact on the game. The degree to which it loses momentum if it is to be preserved means that it fits poorly on teams that aren't either straight up balance or hyper offense.
B -> A-
Support Tirtouga has been on the rise over the past few months, and while this was initially for its reliability as a Torchic check, its strengths are just as noteworthy in the current metagame, especially with Nasty Plot Vullaby currently being one of its less viable sets. Being almost impossible to OHKO without a strong Grass-type attack allows Tirtouga to get up rocks even more reliably than Onix, and the threat of its Shell Smash set, coupled with its access to both Aqua Jet and Knock Off, allows it to force more switches than Onix to do so. Bulky Shell Smash sets have also gotten better for their ability to bluff support variants. Tirtouga definitely isn't perfect, as its support set is hard walled by common Fighting-types and its smash sets are as vulnerable to Scarfers as ever, but it can now seriously contend with Onix for the position of a Stealth Rock setting bird check on a team.
B+ -> A-
There are a few metagame trends that are allowing Carvanha back into the metagame as a legitimate threat worth building around. Croagunk and Ferroseed being less prominent is great for it, of course, but Mienfoo and Vullaby variants have also been getting somewhat frailer, with Vullaby almost always running Berry Juice nowadays. Other than that, Snivy is scarfed more often, Weak Armor is currently on the upswing, Staryu is more often forgoing Eviolite, fairies are less common, and some teams that only have one bulky Poison are choosing to run Mareanie instead of Foongus.
A- -> B+
Chinchou and Snubbull have been suggested to move down to B+ for a little while now. Now that all of A rank has been shifted down slightly, they are more clearly outmatched in terms of viability.
B -> B+
Vulpix-alola has a reputation for being a cheesy/gimmicky Pokemon, but at this point, such a reputation isn't really deserved. Well built veil teams are consistently able to take advantage of the move in all but the worst matchups, even if it's just from the threat of potentially setting them up should apix get into play safely; while apix lacking any defensive presence does make these teams a bit more matchup based than standard bulky offense, it isn't to a greater degree than, say, shelldig or carvanha-based teams. Furthermore, STAB Ice attacks are quite threatening in this metagame, which makes apix better in general and allows it to run variants other than Light Clay to some success.
B -> B+
Larvesta appreciates the ubiquity of Defog enormously. Its Scarf set has been seeing usage lately as it harder to force out with Wingull, Berry Juice Doduo, and other fast but frail Pokemon, while still having good revenge-killing potential if rocks can't be kept off the field.
B+ -> B
Wynaut, Kabuto, Corphish, Dwebble, and Rufflet aren't necessarily bad Pokemon, and can still be very effective on the right teams. However, they aren't splashable at all, nor do they have entire archetypes revolve around them the way higher ranked nichemons do. It's around the level of mid B that we see most of the impact of Torchic's ban. Kabuto's niche as a Rapid Spinner and Aqua Jet user is far less valuable, and it rarely finds more than one free turn anyways due to how easily it's worn down, meaning Tirtouga is usually better if you don't desperately need the role compression. Corphish's niche has been reduced to its offensive prowess with Torchic leaving the tier. Dwebble's hazard stacking set isn't nearly as effective because of how common Defog is, though its Shell Smash set may have gotten a bit better from frailer Mienfoo variants. Rufflet is on the verge of dropping further; most of the time, its immediate power simply isn't worth its lack of reliability, and its Bulk Up set is far less effective without Torchic support.
B- -> B
Trapinch's niche as a trapper is noticeably more prominent than most of the Pokemon in B- and even B. While its low Speed means that it'll far more often than Diglett have matchups where it isn't useful at all, and it is rarely able to trap more than one Pokemon, being able to directly switch into several of its targets such as Grimer-alola, trap Scarf users such as Pawniard and Magnemite, and immediate power all ensure that there are a fair number of teams where Trapinch is strictly the best choice.
B -> B-
Taillow is one of those Pokemon that's better on paper than in practice. In theory, special Taillow in particular is a great threat to a lot of teams with its good coverage and powerful STAB moves. However, it tends to lack the power to OHKO most Eviolite holders, often forcing it to rely on predicting perfectly to gain mileage, and many of the Pokemon that it does OHKO can force speed ties against it. Taillow is also quite easy to wear down between a Stealth Rock weakness, Life Orb recoil, and being frail enough for Mienfoo's Fake Out to 3HKO it after rocks. In conjunction with how difficult it is to get into play, Taillow can be quite challenging to take advantage of.
B -> B-
Munchlax is pretty bad in a Fighting dominated metagame, and it isn't immediately rewarding the way Steel-types are to make up for it. You really have to make the most out of its strengths for it to be worth a team slot.
C+ -> C
C+ -> C-
C+ -> unranked
C -> C-
C -> unranked
C- -> unranked
The other big change to the Viability Ranking is that we've finally fixed up the C ranks! For the longest time, C+ was pretty much the cutoff for Pokemon that were genuinely worth using on a competitive team, so it was really hard to judge whether something should be C, C-, or unranked. For some things, we might say "it's not worth using, but if you do use it, it can at least do this"; for others, we would say "oh it's not completely outclassed since it has a couple of things over Foongus, even though it's never enough to warrant a team slot"; and for others still, it would be that "it's really cute and I beat levi with it once. keep it". Low C being so messy deterred a lot of users from even touching it. Because of this, we've decided to lower the cutoff for actually being viable to the bottom of C-. If you think a Pokemon deserves to be ranked, you have to explain not just its strengths, but why these are enough to warrant a team slot over more viable Pokemon even when considering the Pokemon's disadvantages. So while Bronzor, Venonat, and Drowzee may have made the cut in the old viability ranking, Bronzor is a flat out liability in multiple games for every game where it pops off, chainpass not being competitively viable leaves Venonat unviable as well, and in a horrific lapse of judgement, Hawkie shared the existence of Counter Drowzee with the world, causing the set to lose much of its effectiveness. Sorry!
C- -> C
C- was way too low by the old C standards (if you pretend they existed) for these two, and still too low now; they're at least usable.
B- -> C-
It's been literally years since Cranidos and Houndour were genuinely noteworthy offensive threats; in the current metagame, it's extremely diffficult to justify their inclusion on a team. I won't even bother listing all of the metagame trends that shut the two down, but Torchic's ban was the nail in the coffin for Houndour in particular. They can work, and their strengths are enough for there to exist teams that need them, but at that point, it starts to become a question of whether the team is really worth it when you have to resort to such poor Pokemon. This sums up most of the Pokemon in C- nicely.
C+ -> B-
Riolu was nominated a while back, and its effectiveness at gaining and maintaining momentum has proven to be a good fit for Voltturn-based Fighting spam teams to a degree that's more in line with Pokemon in B-.
C+ -> B-
B- -> C+
Amaura and Snover have switched places; Amaura is generally a lot more threatening if you're looking to include a strictly offensive Ice-type on your team, seeing how its Ice-type attacks are actually strong enough to 2HKO important threats. It also carries a handy Flying resist to get into play more easily. Snover still has its Grass typing, which may be helpful if you're particularly weak to Staryu, and Ice Shard gives LO variants a small niche on certain webs builds, but it's noticeably more difficult to take advantage of the effectiveness of Ice-type attacks with Scarf or Eviolite Snover when Blizzard doesn't even OHKO Foongus after rocks.
C+ -> B-
Finally, Meowth has been raised to B-.
- Corporal Levi
Poopy-di scoop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop
Poopy-di scoop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop
Poopy-di scoop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop
Poopy-di scoop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop
Poopy-di scoop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-di-scoop-di-poop
Poop-di-scoopty
Scoopty-whoop
Whoopity-scoop, whoop-poop
Poop-diddy, whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop-diddy-whoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop
Whoop-diddy-scoop, poop