–Dan Kilian and the Million Man Band
Now that The Sequester is kicking in, let’s revisit the thinking behind it, though instead of a nation, let’s make it a bar tab.
I’ll be back in a minute.
Let’s get drunk!
I AM drunk. I think we’re all drunk!
Hey, guys, you set a hundred-dollar limit on your bar tab, and you’ve reached it. Should I close you out?
We definitely want another round.
But close up the tab!
Then how do you want to pay for the round?
Close the tab, but get the round.
You want to start another tab?
Just get us the round and we’ll figure out how we’re going to pay for it.
Hooray what? How are we going to pay for those drinks!
How about Rich pays for it?
No, Rich is always getting rounds.
He got the first round, but he hasn’t chipped in in a while. Also, he’s drinking expensive Scotch, and he spilled all that beer just a half an hour ago. They’re still mopping it up.
No! Rich is our friend. Plus, he might throw us some work. We’re trying to be nice to him. It’ll pay off in the long run.
Then who’s going to pay for it?
We’re not going to pay.
Look, let’s just keep the same tab, and we’ll all chip in. We’ve already ordered the round.
We’re definitely gonna keep drinking.
How about Tom?
Tom’s broke. He’s been out of work since last year.
We’re always buying rounds for Tom. Tom’s out of this round. That’ll take care of it.
One, that’s a jerk thing to do to Tom, and two, it doesn’t take care of the rest of the beer we ordered.
Let’s do some shots.
We can’t afford shots!
We can’t afford beer!
We’ve got to pay for the beer we ordered!
What if we got glasses instead of pints?
What if we only get a drink for Rich?
We’ve got to chip in.
I think we need to join Alcoholics Anonymous.
That makes no….Even if we are alcoholics, we still have to buy the round.
What about you, Barry? What about that envelope?
I saw you putting money into an envelope! We could use that money!
That’s for groceries for my mom!
Is this an allegory?
We could use that money for the round and then figure out how to pay it back later.
Maybe you don’t need as many groceries as you think! Are you shopping Whole Foods or Costco? We need beer!
I hate allegories.
No! You can’t use my mom’s grocery money!
We need to stop drinking so much.
Okay, you can use some of the grocery money, but Rich is going to have to buy a round.
No! We need Rich!
Okay, I’ve got it. If we can’t figure out how to pay for this beer by the time the waitress comes back, we get a round of Tabasco Jäger shots.
The “Hot Jags”? Those are nasty!
I’ll throw up.
Exactly! With that hanging over our heads, we’ve got to figure out this tab.
Yeah, I guess.
So…can we all chip in?
Use the envelope!
No beer for Tom! But he’s got to do a Hot Jag!
No one’s doing the Hot Jags. That’s just to get our heads straight. So, Mom and Rich get the next round?
No! Rich’s already bought a round.
And he’s good for another!
I like Hot Jags!
All right, guys, here are your beers. You want to pay cash or start a new tab?
Sorry about that. Um…give us a moment. And in the meantime, could you order us a round of Hot Jags?
And more beer!
To be continued…
The weight of the machete and the numb animal stares as they demand from you an impossible decision.
What’s worse than waking up in a pile of rotting meat, unable to move your arms enough to unwrap the coarse shroud that binds you?
Getting jabbed in the side by the emaciated frames of hundreds of previous victims, some still moaning, begging for water, for air, or quick release from this agonizing and pointless death.
What’s worse than dragging yourself through the useless ritual of education, work, breeding, and inevitable decline?
Knowing that it is all in service to a select cabal of invisible tyrants who extract wealth from the masses while offering nothing more than bleak reassurances such as, “hard work is its own reward,” or, “a craftsman’s work is always his own,” and that this will always be the way of things.
“If I sting you, I’ll sink with you!” the scorpion said.
Of course, halfway across, the scorpion did sting the frog, saying, “You knew I was a scorpion when you picked me….Ugh! What’s happening to me?”
The scorpion convulsed with pain. Through his dying eyes, the frog smiled. “I am a deadly toxic Colombian Kokoe Poison Dart Frog. Prepare to die!”
“Oh, my Colombian friend, I have prepared to die for a long time.” Just then, the bloated corpses of a female frog and several dead tadpoles floated by. The frog’s expression turned from a pained smile to an agonized grimace. The scorpion laughed as he twitched. “Yes, I’ve been planning this revenge for years!”
“Your ancestor cruelly drowned my great-grandfather! Now your family dies, and your line dies with it!”
“Yes, but not alone,” croaked the frog.
Just then the air grew bright as giant mushroom clouds filled the sky.
“It was your great-grandfather who stung mine! While your family was plotting its crude revenge, mine was amassing a nuclear stockpile! Now the destruction of your kind is assured!”
“But at the cost of everything!” gasped the scorpion.
“What do I care? I’m dying.“
As the two of them died, a hot wind rushed over the land. Their bodies glowed with radioactive fire, and the water around them boiled.