Jonah Baker

Eric Glurklebeck

Robin Lerch

Jennifer Emrick

Benjamin Chandler

English

It was a cataclysm of errors and screen misdirects, but the monks had come together to play this game, and the ball was in their court, so to speak.

But what were they thinking? Who was holding the ball? And how could winning or losing make a difference?

Times like this, speed is more important than accuracy, and they were wasting time. This crew needed to buckle down, get their $#!$ together, and come up with a plan.

And in the sky to the East was a great pinpoint of light, and the crew looked on in distraction, mentally measuring the distance from their s&*$ to the star.

They moved toward it, and behold, it moved further away. "Pesky stars!" said Captain Sassafrass. 
"It's the monks, again!" Said his twin, Jesohoot.
"Yep. And their balls."

Jesohoot and Captain Sassfrass had only been twins for one lifetime. Their harmonies suffered as a result. The stars were conjoined in a similar manner.

No one knew why they had been twinned and this mystery had confused all the monks and inspired the invention of this cruel exercise. Afterwards, always twinkees.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of this. If only they had access to an X9-2048 gene sequencer. But when life gives you lemons, you bite down and brace for the sour rush.

And it is always a rush, sour or sweet, it is unavoidable and all things are unavoidable, unless they can be avoided. Ah, the old ontological narrative.

And they flew into the star, exploding, one big burst of light and mesmeric atmosphere. And what happened next, no one knew. Was there ever even a narrator for this narrative? Then who am I?

Sequence X9-2048

TDGViM8cnHWGNJcW2kUeJSSbDWz1

Watching the couple dine on the train I couldn't help but wonder how they had gotten together in the first place.

What was up with his golden afro? He was as pale as I was. And she was wearing a business suit, all pin stripes and obviously crypto-riche.

The castle was two days journey ahead, and we had no way to know who would be getting there first, the Johnsons, or my team.

When the gasping attendant wrapped up the night’s work, it was clear that the couple was not a couple at all.

They were the Johnsons, the most unlikely of twins, and underneath that golden afro was the key to the treasure: a map of the dungeon, tattooed when he was still in the incubator, having been born prematurely.

There was only one thing I could do. Decouple the train car and head to the castle via helicopter. I would have to use the force of laughter to gain momentum. But what was funny?

Pointing at the Johnsons, at the height of his hair, the laughter from the other diners shook the car and I made my move. The helicopter took up me up via my umbrella.

I had transferred the map of the dungeon into the quantum mechanics of the joke. I would be eating that treasure, a golden candy bar, by midnight.

Jonah Baker
@jonahbaker

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