One who is enlightened can enjoy even hell

We got a planaria from Juliaire. Not the same one that is his guide/follower, but never the less a large planaria. It was hyper intelligent and possesed the key to unscramble the surreality of our existance.

Our first reaction was to love and cherish it, but this had no visible effect on it. It smiled its little planaria smile and continued to mutter koans under its little planaria breath. So we played Barry Manilow, alternating with Crucifucks, hoping to elicit some response. But it continued to smile and mutter in its little planarian way, stopping only to exist for a bit, something that had happened before with no apparent stimulus.

We were very curious now.

We tried everything from hot oil massages to trips to K-mart to dancing on the heads of pins in an effort to cause it to react to anything. It was aware of our existance, even its own, (I spam therefore I am) but nothing seemed to catch its interest.

It was Bob who found it so frustrating. He wanted to find out the key, and was therefore obsessed with finding that perfect stimulus. His rant started on Monday, and ended the day before that. (Bob is a distant relative of Merlin.) His actions became more and more extreme as the day went by. Then one day he suggested that the planaria should be removed from our existance for the sake of maintaining a stable insanity. I agreed, and got out the cornmeal and ramen.

It smiled as we lifted it out of the chair, it talked of the color of the wind as we rolled it in cornmeal, and when we put it in the deep fat frier, it appeared to exist happily for a second. Then it cooked up nicely.

I served it over ramen with a light white wine. As we ate it we realized that it had been happy for every second of its life. I shrugged and ate another bite.

One strange side effect. The other day Bob cut his finger, right down to the bone. It healed as two separate finger tips.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
muttering koans thru the deep.
If I should fry before I wake,
I hope to God its Shake and Bake.

Copyright © 1992 David C. Todd