Word count = 147. This will be the short version!

seriously, well done.

He had pictured what success could mean for his family many times. What would it be like to get out of the rat hole they lived in? His apartment complex left much to be desired. The people drove him nuts. The crazy lady with the mole on her face who yelled at the children. The drunk who lived downstairs and insisted on blasting Stanky and the Coal Miners Polka Band on his 8-track stereo. Milo, the janitor with a penchant for exhibitionist stunts such as dropping trou at the ladies which earned him the nickname “Pathetic Moon Janitor.” It was all too much.

His days consisted of dreaming up the next “big thing” that would take the world by storm. He thought of marketing schemes that would prey on dumb people’s lack of will power to guard their discretionary income.

Weekends were spent stealing pine cones from the neighbor’s yard and gluing noses and beady eyes to them in hopes of designing a prototype for the next “pet rock” craze. It was a stretch but, maybe . . .

Then there was the meeting with the Mattel to pitch his “Barbie Jesus.” He thought creating a Jesus doll with normal human characteristics would help kids relate to Jesus better. But, the pull string idea that made Jesus say things like “pull my finger” and “I need to poop” was a little overbearing for the toy company.

He was desperate and willing to try anything. Start his own religion? Probably not. “Gene Pensiero—Cult Leader” is never how he pictured his name in lights.

He thought about becoming a nude model. He justified his plan by saying he would be “helping the arts.” But even then, did anybody really want to see him naked? He remembered seeing his roommate Brody Harper nude in college art classes and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. If Brody Harper wasn’t afraid to show his pathetic body in public, maybe there was hope for Gene.

There was no one to blame but himself. He was starting so late in life. He had wasted so many years. Blaming others for your own pathetic choices is like blaming spoons for making your rear end fat.

Still he blamed. He blamed his teachers. His parents. Anyone he could. He even blamed his neighbors for stealing away his only good babysitter that kept his kids occupied while he worked on his inventions. “We promise we won’t steal away your good babysitter—we only need her this once.” Liars. They paid her twice as much and took her away.

Had it really come down to this? He would go as far to blame babysitter poaching for his failures?

Friend, don’t be like Gene. If we blame others for all our failures, we must also credit others for all our successes. We must take responsibility for our own lives.

We are sure you are moved by this story, if you would like to now accept Jesus, please do so now.

and i’m honored.

anyone who would like to apply to my cult (it’s pretty easy to get in), feel free to stop by.

Randy sat at the computer, eyes glazed over, Rockstar beverage long gone. He’d been working on his newest program, “Pathetic-Moon Janitor” for hours. The clock’s sing-song - tick tock tick tock, was abruptly ended as the T.V. blared out. “Geez Phil, turn that down will ya man. You scared me half to death,” Randy said, now wide awake. “Sorry about that. Hey, where is Brody anyway? It’s getting late and he said we’d only have to keep an eye on the boys for a little while. I thought we were gonna go out and catch that new band’s set. What’s their name again?” “I can’t remember for sure. It is like “Blaming Spoons” or something weird.” Randy surveyed the room,”You know, from the looks of this mess Brody ought to be out baby sitter poaching ’cause he’s never gonna want us to watch the boys again.” “Well,” Phil retorted, “I hope he hurries. I’m starving and these old, stale chips aren’t cuttin’ it. May as well be stealing pine cones to munch on.” Suddenly, the color drained from Randy’s face and Phil heard the ten o’clock news anchor saying…”This is Barbie Jesus(pronounced ‘hey-suess’), filling in for Sammi Cee tonight. Breaking news this evening, live from 520 Broadway in downtown Nashville. Daniel Renstrom is on the scene with an eye witness account. What can you tell us Daniel?” “Well, Barbie believe it or not I have Gene Pensiero cult leader here and he claims to have seen the whole thing. What can you tell us Gene?” “Yes, Daniel. First off, I just wanna give a shout out to Barbie Jesus and say that if you ever want to stop by the compound I’d love to share some mojitos, listen to a little “Stanky and the Coal Miner’s Polka Band, and show you around darlin’…” “Um, okay then,” Daniel interrupts,”so tell us about what you saw unfold here tonight Gene.” “Right. So I was out introducing myself to some new followers, I mean uh, friends - and then some lady comes around the corner yelling,’Look, look it’s Brody Harper nude!’” “Next thing I see, this guy strolls right past us all - buck naked.” “How did she know who it was,” Daniel asked. “Oh, because the guy had a piece of paper stuck on his cheeks that said,’I'm Brody Harper and this is a social experiment,’ Gene answered. “And did Mr. Harper make any comments about his erratic behavior?” “Nope, but I did get a nice side shot on my cell phone, see…” (Gene holds up his iphone showing a clear pic of Brody Harper nude on live T.V.)”Oh my, yea…wow. Well, that’s, that’s all from here Barbie back to you in the studio.”
Click. The screen goes blank and Phil turns back to a visibly shaken Randy. They stare in silence at each other. “So, it doesn’t look like we’re gonna see that “Blaming Spoons” show with Brody after all,” Phil says quietly. After a few moments Randy manages to speak. “Please don’t ever use a sentence with the words spoon and Brody in them again, never!” He turns and walks quickly out of the room, “Uh, if you’ll excuse me Phil. I gotta go - I need to poop…um, I mean PUKE now.”

The End

Melody Milbrandt

http://www.vagabondrunn.wordpress.com