An Exercise in Futility
Of all things to be considered in the matter, who would have thought
that ButterRum Lifesavers would one day save the world?
Perhaps the age-old logic of beginning at the beginning would be
useful at this point in time. It all started with a theoretical astrophysicist
named Neil Midclaussen, and a dictator named Mel Bore, on a planet much
like our own, in a country that could very well have been ours.
Hundreds of years ago, maybe thousands, in an alternate reality we call
fiction, Mel Bore rose to power in a coup d'tat that is better left described in
the theirstory books. Alterica was, after all, a country infamous for its
political scandal and ludicrous carryings-on. Bore was the final detail in a
meticulous plan that started centuries before his birth. A plan to achieve
greatness and power through the naiveté of the general public, under the
guise of giving them only what they wanted, in the land of vanilla ice-cream
and root-beer. This dictator had, however, an undiscovered weakness.
Most dictators were bad. Bore on the other hand was absolutely
unthinkable. He brought the world to tears (which was an astonishing defeat
on a planet called Mirth) with his speeches. Not because the subject matter
was touching or moving, but because the man's "humor" was so incredibly
dry, that it left a bad taste in everyone's brain. There was no escaping him.
At one time, there was always the option of changing the channel or turning
the radio off, or leaving the country. Those liberties died with the passing of
the Semicratic way of life. This man, having the entire armed forces of
Alterica at his beck and call, ensured that everyone listen to what he had to
say (none of which was of any real importance).
All of the other injustices paled in comparison. It was hard to concern
one's self with the loss of the right to defecate at will, when one is so
devastated by the Boredom in which they live with no escape. The suicide
rate was one million percent what it was in the previous decade, and even
suicide was punishable by re-runs of Bore speeches in the after-life. Things
were bad. No one cared any more about which way the winds of change
blew.
One man, however, had an ounce of self preservation left. He knew
the full force of the powers-that-be. When he was a young man in college,
with a promising future in Theoretical Astrophysics, he was abducted by the
Government minions that now roamed the streets, securing all of Boredom.
Such an elaborate cover-story was circulated concerning his death, that no
hope remained of him ever having the life he was entitled to. He regretted
that he was born with such talents, and that in the midst of crisis, he became
the most important man on the planet. At such times as a distortion unlike
any other in the astrophysical plane, the likes of Neil Midclaussen have no
choices. Once the crisis had passed, his life was already irreparably gone.
Yet something burned within Neil. Something untouchable. He
couldn't help but entertain the drive that one day, he would make a difference
in the areas that really counted.
***********
That day arrived, initially without fanfare. In that top secret
government laboratory, in which Neil had been retained, something very
strange was taking place. Upon Bore's order to eliminate ButterRum
Lifesavers from the planet ("on the basis that ButterScotch made much more
sense than ButterRum"), the nation's people were detrimentally devastated.
After all, everyone loves ButterRum Lifesavers. What would the world be
without ButterRum?
Neil decided that life not lived true to self, wasn't life at all. He knew
that he could out-wit any G-man on the planet, and with that confidence, he
set forth the intricate wheels in his head to turn.
As complicated as Neil's mind was, he had a bit of a fetish for trivial
information. He knew, for a fact, that no one in the entire theirstory of the
planet Mirth, ever disliked ButterRum Lifesavers. This fact left Neil to
believe that something was amiss.
After days of tedious and covert research, Neil discovered that Mel
Bore, the most powerful man ever, had a deadly allergy to ButterRum
Lifesavers. Consequently, Bore wanted his only weakness removed from the
planet, securing his omnipotent position. Neil knew that no one could ever
discover his knowledge of this fact, or he would die for real. No problem.
He was good. He knew that.
Also as the result of his trivial tendencies, Neil knew there was a man
in Flaxas who held the Skinness World Record for the largest stash of
ButterRum Lifesavers. Of course the Street Soldiers would have gotten to
him by now, but on the chance that this man was psychotic, as Neil
suspected, and may have a secret stash hoarded away somewhere out of sheer
compulsion, Neil decided to take a trip to Callas, Flaxas. This wouldn't be a
problem. Callas has several top secret laboratories, much like the one Neil
worked in. He frequented them on regular basis as part of his role in the
government's scientific underground.
Neil was currently working on a new pancake syrup for Mel Bore. He
was bored with traditional syrup. No flavor adjustments satisfied him. Neil's
job was one of little contact with the syrup itself, but he had a few subversive
acquaintances in the lower ranks who shared abduction stories similar to his
own. Neil's counter-conspiracy started forming into something noteworthy.
**********
After securing the necessary ButterRum devices from the angry lone
nut in Callas, Neil and his cohorts developed a most masterful pancake syrup.
Just as requested, it was not of this planet (thus Neil's role in the whole
operation). Unlike any pancake syrup ever known to man, it only existed
partially in this dimension, at any given time. This gave eating pancakes
topped with this syrup, a suitably surreal experience.
Weeks went by with various testing taking place on the revolutionary
pancake syrup. Both taste and composition, were closely scrutinized by
Bore's ever-so diligent security teams. Having found nothing toxic about the
syrup, the Consumer Ingestibles Administration (or CIA for short) approved
the tasty new delight as a topping. Now it would be put to the real test. This
confectionery masterpiece had to now pass the Mel Bore Stamp of Approval
test.
**********
Neil was working at the complex laboratory/top-secret military operations
headquarters, as usual. His current assignment was to transport all enemy
soldiers (and subversive citizens, Neil wagered) to the past, or the future, or
other dimensions, whatever Neil could come up with. The moment of truth
had arrived.
The televisions in the laboratory hummed to life, in their usual fashion
when the Dictator felt like sharing with the nation. Neil watched as the
pancakes topped with the "New Interdimensional Pancake Syrup", as they
were calling it, were placed in front of Bore. Neil laughed a hearty laugh as
Mr.Dicktator began what Neil knew to be his final droning. He couldn't
help but think about what this ButterRum surprise would do to the man.
Would he die quickly? As soon as it hits his mouth? Will there be an
agonizing death scene lasting minutes, or hours? Will days go by before
anything happens at all? The suspense was most palpable.
Neil, after an hour of speaking that seemed to blur by in his mind,
watched with anticipation as the Dictatorial Fork slid through the pancakes.
The Dictatorial Knife followed. Bore, completely unaware of the tainted
little ButterRum secret, opened his mouth and welcomed in the first bite.
The response wasn't quite what Neil had expected, a little
disappointing at first. Then, after about three more bites, something was
noticeably wrong with the Dictator. He motioned frantically for water, his
mouth gaping open as though he was unable to close it. The Gray House
aides and staff members rushed to his side to assist him...
...Or so it seemed. Neil watched with astonishment as a man in a
black suit (who looked pretty much like all the other men at the table)
pounced on the Dictator, and appeared to be ravishingly wringing the man's
neck. The television news anchor narrated the entire event. Excitement was
in her voice rather than concern. The entire nation of Alterica watched as
Mel Bore's face turned red, then blue, then a deep shade of dead.
The assassin released his grip as the Dictator fell limply on the table.
The perpetrator didn't run, or speak. He merely caught his breath and
allowed a normal color to return to his own face. Neil was sure that he
would witness this man experience the demise he had accepted as his own
fate, considering the fact that no one showed enough respect to turn the
cameras off, or go to commercial. He was stunned that someone had
absolved him from that which he had sacrificed his very life to accomplish.
Satisfaction, as well as fear, were instantly removed from his shoulders. He
couldn't help but think that the unidentified man should have had more
patience, thus allowing Neil's masterful plan to execute.
Now it was clear to Neil that any second now, guns would fire, and
dogs would be released, and helicopters would descend from the sky and this
brave man would be no more. Indeed when the man calmed and turned
toward the camera, Neil could here something. The mysterious sound was
coming from the television, but also from outside. No helicopters, no dogs,
no guns, just cheers. Cheers and applause filled his ears as he opened the
window to his left.
The sun came out and shone brightly on the celebrating masses in the
streets. Questioning his sanity, Neil could have sworn that a rainbow
stretched clear across the sky, just like in the movies. Suddenly Neil was
very disturbed. He knew in his heart that it shouldn't have happened this
way. All of his efforts and risks, and all these idiots were cheering-on this
chicken-shit who jumped at a moment of weakness.
Weakness...yes. Neil stepped out on the fire-escape, and looked back
in on the 42nd floor laboratory in which he had forcibly wasted the last ten
years of his life. Then, he flew down into the crowd.
**********
Upon investigation of the Dictator's death it was reported that he had
suffered from a severe allergic reaction to something, which allowed the
"assassin" ample opportunity to seize him.
Neil's body was found extensively disemboweled on the campus of a
private university not far from his laboratory dwelling. The word
"ButterRum" was carved into his forehead with what forensics showed to be
his own fingernails.......
Completed: July 1998
© 1999 Lisa E. Stratton
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