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Chapter 32: Living With Parkinson's?







Chapter 28: In the Arc of Time
12.1.2002 Edited by Ben, every Sunday.


Yet as soon as Jesus’ words had been uttered, they were accompanied by the faint noise of a turning latch over the constant sound of the gushing water. Bjorn entered the room soon after, with a pained expression on his face and a hand to his seemingly tender backside.

“Someone has got to tell Anthony Edwards that not every shot has to be given to the ass. And what on earth is tetniscillin anyway?”

Bjorn noticed the dampness of the floor and, to Jesus’ horror, his eyes slowly found their way to the empty space that used to give refuge to a toilet.

“I swear we had a toilet there this morning.”

Jesus stood in puzzled amazement as a guilty look came over Bjorn’s face.

“If that wasn’t a toilet,” Bjorn continued, “then I must have... Holy guacamole Jesus, we’ve got to get out of here, the celebrities won’t like this one bit.”

“Won’t like what? What happened Bjorn.”

“It’s a long story involving too much chili and too little judgement last night. If we’re missing a toilet and the wall is pouring out water, then I may have done something that, among celebrities, would be considered a greater crime than almost any other.”

“I don’t understand... at all.”

“Maybe someday, when I’m old and decrepit I’ll tell you Jesus, but right now we’ve got to get out of here before that madman Philbin sees this. Where did I put those pills?”

“Beside the bed!”

“Good memory. Gather your stuff quickly, we’ve got to get out of here.”

Bjorn opened the drawer and removed the bag of pills ever so carefully, a habit he had acquired during his youth when carrying around his marbles. By keeping only his least precious marbles at the top of the bag, he could ensure that his valuable ones weren’t easy pickings for the less morally inclined children on the playground.

“Are you ready to go, Jesus?”

“Whenever you are.”

Bjorn carefully plucked the pill at the very top of the pile and paused momentarily to admire the symmetry of the pills in the bag. He gently took Jesus’ hand, but her glance averted him as he brought the pill to his mouth. But as he was about to deposit the tainted pill into its bodily depository, the overwhelming sound of a crack drowned out the ever-present sound of flowing water and stopped Bjorn in his tracks.

It was not a crack of thunder, however, it was the crack of cement and iron reinforcement bars as Noah’s flying ark once again came to him.

“Noah! What timing, you have to save me from the wrath of Regis Philbin. You can’t even imagine the things that he’ll do to me if he discovers what I’ve done here…”

“No, Bjorn, I’m afraid the truth will be far more disappointing. Jesus, do you care to tell him?”

Jesus stood motionless, in silent guilt.

“Bjorn give me that pill along with the top four in your bag.”

Bjorn handed them to the old man, confused to say the least.

Noah ate the pills and continued his speech. Jesus gasped.

“Now Bjorn, these pills will not effect me because I am blessed by God Almighty. In fact, I regularly eat cactus and the really, really hot peppers - raw - just for fun. If you had eaten these pills, though, all you would be right now is a large pile of neon pink goo.”

“But...”

“No, Bjorn, these aren’t the pills you’ve been taking since your journeys began. These pills have been doctored by your fair companion Jesus and contain enough Monopulfisor Biprombiscide to melt a small giraffe into a vat of goo.”

Bjorn suddenly turned his glance to Jesus, who had slowly moved towards the door, attempting to escape from the room unnoticed.

“Jesus?”

Jesus froze, but had no time to even formulate a reply as Regis Philbin thrust open the door and marched into the room.

“Bjorn, its time for lunch. We’re having caviar and really expensive French cheese, but you’re having Kraft dinner! Ha, ha, ha!”

His laughter came to an end when he noticed the relative wetness of the floor, which was now covered with several inches of water.

“What the fuck happened here, you ingrates!?!”

His glance soon wandered to the toilet.

“Holy shit! My ivory toilet! Do you know how many elephants are left, you bastard? None! You’re dead!”

“Quickly, Bjorn,” Noah yelled from the arc.

“What about Jesus?”

“You moron. Get on the boat.”

Bjorn did as ordered and they were immediately underway, leaving a frustrated Regis on the ground cursing madly.

“I swear, Lincoln, I won’t sleep until you’re an overly expensive meal on my plate! Well, maybe I’ll sleep a little bit – beauty sleep you see…”

As the ark pulled away, sailing into the crust of the earth, Bjorn’s eyes briefly met those of Jesus. Despite the fact that she had attempted to kill him in a most gruesome way, at that point Bjorn would have turned the arc around and risked death at the hands of a maniacal game show host to save her. He was not driving the ark, though, Noah was.

And since Noah was driving the ark, they continued sailing through the crust of the earth until they reached the toxic light of day. And then they continued. Bjorn found himself very becoming very tired. Possibly from the excitement of the situation, possibly from the mental implications of his final glance at Jesus, or possibly because Anthony Edwards could have injected basically anything into his ass. Either way, he slowly drifted to sleep as the ark continued to sail.

By Ben Piper




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