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I'd Write A Better Slogan If This Blood Clot Wasn't Working Its Way Up My Spinal Column
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Chapter 31: Michael
1.12.2003 Edited by , every Sunday.
Before Bjorn could inquire further, the door burst open behind him. "Bjorn, you're needed in the war room." said Noah.
"It was nice chatting with you," said God as Noah hustled Bjorn from the room.
"So why am I needed in this war room?" asked Bjorn as Noah led him through a series of corridors.
"There's some people you need to meet," replied Noah. "And people who would really like to meet you."
"That's going to be fairly anticlimactic after meeting God." Bjorn said. "Although I am a bit disillusioned.."
"Don't tell me you really thought that was God." laughed Noah. "You're talking to a living, breathing Biblical character! Don't get all 'Star Trek 5' on me. The man back there is just nicknamed God; his real name is Lester Spiegel. He just has an oddball sense of humor, and he got a bit strange after McNoHart's robots killed his wife and took his daughter, Janet."
"I thought her name was Jesus?" asked Bjorn, his mind still slightly
off-balance from recent theological upsets, paternal revelations, and
Biblical characters making clumsy 'Star Trek' references.
"That was McNoHart's doing." sighed Noah. " 'God' isn't the only one with an odd sense of humor."
Bjorn fell silent for a moment, and inside his mind, gears were turning. Though perhaps, "gears" isn't the best metaphor for the way Bjorn's mind worked- it was more like, say, a chimpanzee in a behavioral research laboratory, trying to figure out which button would provide him a banana when pushed. Or maybe it was completely unlike that, but this is the best you're going to get, so let's not be choosy, hm?
Suddenly, a thought, or metaphorical banana, occurred to Bjorn. "So you're saying that God, as a supreme Diety and Creator Of The Universe, is real?"
"Bjorn, almost all major religions of your time are based on faith." said Noah. "Except Scientology, of course, which is based on money, and the Neo-Pulpites of the early 22nd century, who based their religion on the paper sleeves from cupcakes. Where was I? Oh, yes. Without faith, they are nothing. And even if we disregarded that reason, there are some things beyond the grasp of yo- the human mind." Noah coughed nervously, then noticed Bjorn's glassy-eyed stare. "Let me put it this way," sighed Noah. "I'll not tell you what to believe. Find your own truth."
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Bjorn was out of bananas.
They soon reached the entrance to the war room. It consisted of two
massive metal doors, and some sort of computer terminal immediately to the left. For some reason, the words "War Room" were written above the door in cheap looking neon, reminding Bjorn of a 1950's era diner in a movie. Noah produced a card key from inside his robes and swiped it through a reader on the terminal. "Present eye for retinal scan." said an electronic voice. Noah did so. "Identity confirmed. Access granted." There was a low pitched, rumbling sound, then with a "ding" noise straight from an elevator,a small, previously concealed door opened to the right of the two large metal ones.
"What?!" Bjorn exclaimed. "Then what are those two big doors for?"
"Effect, mostly." replied Noah, and they stepped through the door, into a massive oblong room. Monitors of varying sized covered its walls, and whatever ceiling it may have was concealed by mysterious mechanical devices. A long, stainless steel table sat in the center, and seated around it were several figures concealed in hooded robes, each with a number on the breast. The figure marked "7" stood and walked over to Bjorn, just as Bjorn realized that Noah had vanished.
"Don't be alarmed, he does that." said an oddly familiar voice.
"Do I know you?" asked Bjorn. "Your voice-"
The figure pushed its hood back.
Non-Sequitur: n.
An inference or conclusion that does not follow from the premises or
evidence.A statement that does not follow logically from what preceded it.
From Latin: "It Does Not Follow."
-from the American Heritage Dictionary,
"It's good to finally meet you, Bjorn." said Michael J. Fox.
"Guh buh gug?" said Bjorn, whose central nervous system was already overly taxed by recent events.
"Yes, I'm Michael J. Fox., but you can call me 'Mike'." said Mike. "In many ways, I am your predecessor. Chris Lloyd and myself used to travel back and forth through time, although we had to use a car instead of pills."
"A DeLorean, right?" asked Bjorn, whose nervous system had decided to just shelve some difficult to process items for now.
"Actually, it was a '55 Chevy." replied Mike. "Steven Spielberg just liked DeLoreans."
"So the 'Back to the Future' movies are true?"
"For the most part. We based 'Biff' partly on McNoHart, and I never made out with my mom. Though I did totally nail Leah Thompson."
Bjorn blinked.
"But down to business. The first thing I want to tell you is that I'm sorry you got into this mess. You see once you travel through time, by any means other than Noah's Ark, your body undergoes a change." Mike held up a trembling hand.
"Bjorn, you're going to get Parkinson's Disease."
By Dan Haun
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