THE ONGOING MYSTERY OF MILL ON THE FLOSS (Part Two :
There was a man once, a multi-dimensional spaced-out time-traveler called Albert, who liked to visit the planet Earth every few light years or so to see how it was doing, cause every time he’d been there previously there’d been a war going on. And this time didn’t seem to be any different. He lands in this city all in ruins, shattered glass and debris, unexploded bombs and bodies all over the place.
He’s walking down the street through all this shattered glass and debris, unexploded bombs and bodies, when suddenly he’s accosted by this tall figure wearing a long gray smock, goggles and a large metal helmet crudely inscribed 5-4-3-2-1-0, who asks him what he’s doing, what is he playing at??? “I’m not playing at anything”, says Albert, “I’m just walking down the street. I’m not doing anything.”
“You can’t do that, it’s against the law! I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me!” So 5-4-3-2-1-0 leads Albert into this burned-out office-building, takes him up to the third floor into a room marked “Unemployed Civilians”, informs him that he will be fined five-thousand nasturtiums! “Nasturtiums?” replies Albert, “the flowers?” “Are you trying to be funny?” says 5-4-3-2-1-0, “the money!” “I don’t have any money”, says Albert, “I didn’t know I needed any.” Obviously Albert hasn’t been down to earth for a while.
“In that case we’ll have to confiscate your shoes!” So Albert takes his shoes off and hands them over. “Now if you’ll just show me your identification-papers.” “I don’t have any identification-papers”, says Albert, “I didn’t know I needed any.” 5-4-3-2-1-0 shakes what seems to be his head. “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me!” He leads Albert outside, barefoot, poor Albert’s tip-toeing gingerly through all the shattered glass, debris, unexploded bombs and bodies. He’s taken into another burned-out office-building, up to the third floor into a room marked “Criminal Lack of Nasturtiums”.
5-4-3-2-1-0 is flipping through a filing-cabinet, he asks Albert for his right-to-exist number. “I don’t have a right-to-exist number”, says Albert, “I didn’t know I needed one.” “That’ll be another five thousand nasturtiums!” “I don’t have any nasturtiums!” says Albert, “I guess you’ll just have to lock me up.” 5-4-3-2-1-0 consults his right elbow. “Can’t do that! Then we’d have to feed you. If you hadn’t noticed there’s a war going on. We need all the food to send to the front to feed the soldiers. You’ll have to join the army!” “I can’t do that”, says Albert, “I don’t want to fight anybody.” “Then you’ll have to join the Civil Service. If you’re not going to fight you have to make sure the fighting is conducted in an orderly manner!”
“I can’t do that”, says Albert, “I guess you’ll have to put me to death.” 5-4-3-2-1-0 consults his left elbow. “Can’t do that. Not till you have a right-to-exist number. Then you’d need a death-certificate. Very expensive, lots of nasturtiums. Can’t do it for free, otherwise everybody else will be wanting us to do it for them too. Besides, as far as we’re concerned, you’re already dead!”
“So what’s going to happen to my corpse?” asks Albert. 5-4-3-2-1-0 takes off his helmet, which seems to take his head off with it, consults his navel. “I’ll have to let you go. But be warned, if I catch you doing nothing, you’ll have to go through this all over again!” So he lets Albert go.
Albert goes outside, by now his feet are freezing and ripped to shreds by all this shattered-glass and debris. He’s gazing around at all these unexploded bombs and bodies, when suddenly there’s a massive explosion that seems to come from underground, he can hear all these people screaming. And at that point he decides “this is obviously not the place for me!” So he jumps into the nearest burned-out bush and blends back into eternity, vowing never to visit planet Earth again! And can you blame the poor guy, he just couldn’t get with the program!