by Terry 58 Replies latest jw friends
Painful!
The room was filled with shelves and shelves of Watchtowers!
Old Rutherford books and Kingdom Ministries were stacked everywhere. One tiny shelf contained a single video. He leaned forward for a closer look. The subject matter was in magic marker; something about Rutherford and his mistress.......
"I don't understand what is going on," Mookie Fugbutton pleaded.
"What is all this?"
An enigmatic smile crossed the face of his companion....
as she pulled a lever that was ingeniously disguised as a "Revelation Climax" book.
"That's a little pun" she giggled, pointing to the cover, as a whole section of wall swung open to reveal...
Mookie almost had to slap himself. He was trying his hardest to pay attention to Brother Dogooders talk, but his mind just couldn't stay focused on it and he kept going off into a strange daydreaming world. Maybe it was the sound of Brother Dogooders monotoned voice droning on an on and then there were all those dates 607 BCE and the times and the times and the half a times bible chronolgy thing. The Kingdom hall itself seemed to lull him into a hypnotic state--it felt rather womblike--without windows, closed off from the world and with the low hum of the air conditioner the barren walls and non-descript furniture and people, Mookie couldn't focus and he fell right back into his daydream...He just had to know what was on the other side of that wall....
...Ascending the transcendental wall that had been shoddily yet skillfully erected in his mind during his brief absence, Mookie began entertaining grand concepts, (He was an ever genial host) the kind of thoughts that once tossed out into the grand ALL ...sparked the birth of galaxies, triggered the evolution of great societies or, as in Mookie's case, usually just preceded a cluster headache.
Still, inspired by his new paradigm (and a couple of indian head nickels) he slapped a post-it note against the rippled gray wall of his cerebelum. Having underestimated the adhesive disolving properties of cerebrospinal fluid, the glorious yellow memo slid slowly down the side beyond the veil of future recall....
*Enter*.......the Existential Overseer......... taking short, long strides.
On another plane of existence, the mysterious demi-god known only as hilary_step cackled at the unfolding drama taking place before him. His lips curled back in an evil smile as he slouched on his throne before the Orb of the Prophets. Soon he would release the herd of TexButtocks upon these mortals to wreak havoc in their lives.
Yes, all was going according to plan.
Somewhere off in the distance, Nancy Reagan and Richard Nixon sang "Twisting The Night Away" while an aeire of fairies danced before them.
But wait! Everyone was standing up! Snapping out of his daydream Mookie realized that everyone was opening the song book. Suddenly a noise like a funeral dirge kicked up. Oh, was that ----"singing"??? He knew one thing for sure, the Witnesses needed to recruit a songwriter-and quick! Someone on the order of Charles Wesley, someone who could write a peppy little ditty unlike this torturous, woeful, "poor me" dreck that poured fort from the speakers! Maybe someone like...
Barry Manilow--after all he wrote the songs that made the whole world sing...What was he thinking? He had to slap himself upside the head again---he didn't even like Barry Manilow music. He was into retro music--60s style. He was wishing that Jimi Hendrix was still around--surely he would add a bit of life to the place. Mooky looked around at the crowd and figured this wasn't exactly the Jimi Hendrix type of crowd--in fact....
..."wasn't that the Jackson family over there in the corner?" thought Mookie.
It wasn't their singing that caused him to notice. Like everyone else in the Hall, their lips barely moved as they stared blankly ahead.
"I wonder how long Mrs. Jackson spends picking out all those afros. Well, I suppose it would take about 10 minutes for each one, and, let me count... just how many kids?..."
The complexity of this mental arithmatic would have been painful had not the song "Purple Haze" been looping through his head. That had a rather calming effect on him, perhaps because it reminded him of his last really good trip, about six years ago...
...just about all thought in Mookie's cognitively dissonant mind ceased right then. Before the startlingly uplifting chorus "but the Bible tells us that soon there will be..." could jostle him out of his reverie, his eyes rolled back in his head; he even began to drool.
If someone would have been watching his lips just then, focusing on, not the drool, but the intent of Mookie's sub-sub-sub cortex to utter praise for this sublime moment, they could have seen a barely preceptible, "wowwwwwwwwww"
...
"I SAW YOU drooling over Sister Doogooder's rear during the song!!!!"
Mookie was being accosted at the close of the meeting by an older woman he hadn't even met. He knew that he hadn't been checking out Sister Doogooder's rear. Well, she had been standing right in front of him.
But if he had been thinking of anything besides good-trippin' (somehow 1969 was the year of only GOOD trips), Jimi Hendrix, and how many Jackson's there were besides the 5 with which he was so familiar, it was only Cookie.
"Oh really, you don't know what I'm talking about?" shouted the old woman, unaware that Mookie was not nearly as deaf as she.
"Well, you should pay more attention then, sonny! I was with her yesterday when she picked out her dress for next week's Memorial, and...now let's see what was I talking about...oh yes, she said something..."
Then her voice dropped to a whisper, which sounded as if she were whistling through her gums. She pulled Mookie really close to her face, still thinking he was deaf (or stupid). For a moment, Mookie thought he saw infinity in the depths of that toothless, dark maw.
"She said something about being excited to have an occasion to dress real pretty. She picked out a nice blue dress, and you know she hasn't worn any color since her sister, Diana Ross, quit studying and decided to do a remake of The Wizard of Oz. Are you baptized yet, or still studying? Because, you know, we're having the Memorial next week. You are coming, right?"
Mookie knew neither what this 'Memorial' was all about, nor this 'baptism' mumbo jumbo. But he did recall faintly overhearing some comment by Brother Doogooder about 'dunking him before the Memorial'. And it did sound strange to be invited over for a Memorial day pool party in April! <edited to omit commit about Mookie mistaking the pink sausage for 'bloodless'>
Mookie tried to pull himself away from the old woman before she sucked anymore life out of him. But he couldn't escape her grasp, or her fetid breath, just yet.
"Can't you see??? She likes you!"
But just then Mookie saw Cookie leaving the Kingdom Hall. And she was all he saw. Oh, and the numbers 36, 26, and 36 (Not to be confused with 666) for some reason popped into his head.
As Mookie wondered why she was leaving without saying goodbye, or even hello, little did he know that she was thinking of a) how sexy she would look in a nice new blue dress (coincidentally, of course), and b) whether her husband would notice she had snuck out with his checkbook.
Little did she know that the checkbook she had grabbed was actually...
a discount coupon book for all the local donut houses. No matter, that too would be VERY useful. Shrugging off the mistaken booklet, Cookie looked over her shoulder and noticed that Mookie and Chocolate Chip were ......
