Thursday, June 20, 2013

Serious Takes a Beating

Fear pounded his gavel three times and called out, "Intellect, if you would bring the meeting to order please, some of us have to get back to work before the host awakens."

"Alright people let's get to it." Intellect stood so that he might look down on the others; an annoying trait to those who could recognize an act of superiority in action. "Let the fifty first annual meeting of the Ronsense Society begin! Madame secretary, please interview each member in order to discern our host's current status."

Touch nodded and walked toward the chalkboard, her overstated, hip heavy gait eliciting more than one whispered mansensical comment.

"Taste! You stop that sexist blather right now or I'll flatten your nodes!" Touch said as she whipped around and pointed her digit directly into the tongue of the most egregious offender.

"No harm meant miss" Taste replied with a smarmy chuckle; "I was just admiring your umm, circulation."

Intellect dramatically sighed as if a steam locomotive at a water tank. "Geez I hate when braniac does that" Hearing whined to Sight; "He's supposed to be the smart one here, why can't he just run these damn meetings rather than pretend like he's above it all."

"Enough with the infighting children" Insight said; "We have a serious problem and if we don't solve it together, we could all be in danger."

"Well said Six!" Intellect applauded his roommate, the sixth sense; "the host has been morose for some time now and could possibly be headed for suicide, or worse, public drunkenness. We need to rectify his mood or suffer the consequences associated with late night vomiting and uncontrollable weeping."

"Man I get bloodshot just thinkin about it" said Sight; to which Taste laughed aloud...

"Bloodshot?" he said cynically; "Spend a night in my shoes at the foot of the porcelain god. Trust me eyeballs, Taste and vomit don't mix!"

Hearing began to sneeze as a flowery scent wafted into the room, the perfume carried by a soft breeze. In the doorway stood Smell, her little black nose bobbing up and down as her head turned this way and that, acknowledging her compatriots each in turn. "There's only one answer boys" she purred; "Humor will get him through this rough patch, you've got to appeal to his sense of Humor."

The group began to talk amongst themselves. "Yea, just where is Humor lately?" said one. "Humor schmoomer, what the hell's wrong with me?" said Taste; "Get the guy to buy a case of Hostess Twinkies and I'll change his mood for ya pronto!"

"No Twinkies" shouted the custodial crew Bloodstream and Bacterium. "Mood alteration by sugar high is inefficient and potentially dangerous, not to mention messy at a later date."

"Alright hold up now" Intellect said as he pounded his gavel for silence so as to shoosh the collected senses and assorted affectations. "Humor, what do you think; can you make him let go of Seriousness so you can squeeze into the psyche and give us all a rest?"

Humor set down his beer, pulled out his compact mirror and checked his makeup before speaking. "Do I have floppy orange clown shoes?"

"Yes" The crowd muttered.

"And orange curly hair and a red nose?"

Taste laughed and the crowd followed. "Why yes you do." The audience cheered as Humor rose to his floppy orange feet.

"Well then stand back people, cuz Humor's gonna take control of this helpless host. I'm off to kick some Serious ass!"

And the crowd roared as the host giggled in his sleep....

No comments:

Post a Comment