Thursday, July 29, 2010

Soul Scan

(this is fictional but I could see it happening...)

  It was a cartoony machine- a large screen perched on a wavy stand with two eye like scanners that bobbed like day old helium balloons.    "See your soul for a nickel!" the sign said.   A poster  showed the possibilities - a  a dumpy woman looked at the screen and saw Venus rising from the sea..  A scrawny kid with a bad haircut became a god shooting lightning bolts from a mountaintop.  "What strength and beauty lies within YOU?" it asked.
I inserted a nickel.
"Hold still, please" the machine said.  The "eyes" floated over to me and looked carefully, as if searching for concealed contraband.    On the monitor, a fuzzy picture emerged.
I wasn't expecting a goddess or a glistening, ethereal form.  Even a angel or fairy figurine- the plastic glittery kind sold in drugstores-  would be a stretch.  Still, I thought  a cute bobblehead doll  or a windup toy were real possibilities.
Then my result appeared.
"A rubber chicken?" I said. "That's my soul?"
"Yep," said the machine.  "That's you..  Funny, but neither useful or original."
"I want my nickel back!"
"A cheap rubber chicken," it continued.  "The plastic kind where the eyes and wattles are crudely painted."
"Stupid machine,": I said.
"A rubber chicken is thin skinned." the machine said.  "A shallow, empty headed prop. A novelty that wears off quickly and becomes annoying..  Self centered and self absorbed, yet oblivious to-"
"I'm not self centered!" I said.
"If you're not self centered,  maybe you'd have noticed there's now three other people waiting to for their reading, while you're holding up the line." it said.
I stormed away, avoiding eye contact with the others.
In retrospect, I probably should have asked if there were any constructive steps  I might take to upgrade my soul to a rubber duck or a lawn flamingo. 
I still want my nickel back.

8 comments:

Rob said...

At least your not fake dog poo.

Namowal said...

...or the non-fake version of the aforementioned substance! ;)

booda baby said...

Niiiiiice!! You DO tell a clever story (and write it so well, too) (and illustrate it so well, too, too.) Which makes me think that if you WERE to get yourself a rubber chicken, it'd have a kind of Southern Gothic edge. I don't think you're from the south, are you? So how lucky can you get, to be loaded with all that cool twistiness and still be from here? Hm. I ask you that.

RHSteeleOH said...

Bah, what do machines know? The rubber chicken is a classic prop used by many an entertainer. It's also recognized worldwide as such, which makes it a global phenomenon.

Your drawings are awesome btw.

Linda said...

Do mine! Do mine! Put a nickel in for me. I'll pay you back, I promise.

Namowal said...

Thanks, booda baby.
I'm not from the south, but my dad is. Maybe that explains some things.

Thanks, RHSteeleOH,
Ever wonder who invented the rubber chicken... ...and why? Who sat around and thought I got it! I'll manufacture something that looks sorta like a plucked chicken made of rubber. It'll sell like hot cakes!

Linda,
I'd do yours, but I got mad at the machine and kicked it so now it's out of order...

Pile Girl said...

I liked the "two eye like scanners that bobbed like day old helium balloons".
And I think the rubber chicken means you have a classic sense of humor.

I wonder what mine would be...

Namowal said...

Thanks, Pile girl. I almost left the "bobbing like day old helium balloons" line out to keep things brief. Now I'm glad I left it in.