“It’s official,” he said. “I’m going to be rich.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Legally, I presume.”
“All atop a plank.”
I thought. “Above board,” you mean.
“Exactly. Why must I repeat everything for you?”
“Never mind,” I said. “What is your scheme this time?”
“I’m going to be the Great Debater.”
“Say again?”
“Debates. I’m going to stage debates.” He smiled. “The ‘net’
is buzzing about a so-called debate last week as to whether your world is 6,000
years old or five billion.” He broke into laughter.
I said. “What’s so funny?”
“Your species,” he said.
“We’re funny?”
“Oh, hilarious.”
“You find us funny?”
“Of course,” He said. “Why do you ask?”
“Just how do you mean, ‘funny?’”
He checked to see if I looked serious, then laughed again. “We
started watching your planet—we the Falloonians—when the last big asteroid hit
it 60 million years ago. It was pretty boring except for the last couple of
hundred thousand.”
“And now?”
“We show clips of you for entertainment … like the show last week.”
He started laughing again. This time it was at least a minute before he could
control himself. I waited while he regained his composure. He wiped an eye and
looked at me. “Six thousand years.” Then he broke up again.
“Are you hinting that we are the laughing stock of the Galaxy?”
“Not all of you,” he said. “We take accountants pretty
seriously… and railroad engineers, cowboys, music teachers, sailors, and a few
others.”
I wanted to re-direct the conversation. “So what will you
debate?”
“Correction,” he said. “You and I. What will we debate?”
“What?”
“You will be my thin layer of aluminum used for temporary
food preservation.”
“No,” I said with a huff, “I will not be anyone’s foil.”
“Oh,” he said. “Think of the fun.”
“Fun?”
“Can’t you see us on TV debating whether or not we breathe
air?”
“No.”
“How about this one?” he said, pulling a notepad from his
jacket pocket. “The Theory of Sexual Insemination—If Mother Mary didn’t need
it, why should we?”
“Don’t you have something to do?”
“Wait,” He said. “You’ll like this.” He read from his notes.
“Disease—From Science or From God?”
You know ... I'm not sure I could make the trip from Earth to Falloonia using Biblical physics. - C.W. |
“I need to take care of some things.”
“Okay,” he said. “You won’t be able to resist this one. “Sunrise—fact
or optical illusion?”
I started to leave.
“Newton’s Theory of Motion?” he said. “Let’s ask Joshua.”
By this time I was out the door. The last thing I heard him
yell after me was, “The Theory of Pi—If it is true, it would be in the Bible.”
Does anyone want to keep him for a while?
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