Free-Range Chickens

by Simon Rich

  I

  One day, an old man called his three sons into his bedroom and told them he was close to death.

  “I have decided to give you a test,” he said. “Whoever proves himself to be the wisest shall inherit my fortune.”

  “Oh my God,” the eldest son said. “I had no idea you were sick.”

  “Here is my test,” the old man said. “Go to the market and bring me back an item which is small enough to fit in my pocket but large enough to fill up my room. Whoever can do this will inherit my land.”

  The middle son rubbed his father’s shoulder. “Dad, please, we can worry about all this stuff later. Let’s just enjoy these final moments together as a family.”

  “The answer requires a leap of logic,” the father hinted.

  “Dad, come on,” the eldest son said. “We’d be happy to split the money. There’s no need for this.”

  “I have the solution,” the youngest son said. He was a little out of breath, because he had sprinted to the market and back.

  “It’s a matchstick,” he said.

  “That’s correct,” the father said. “It is small enough to fit in my pocket, but when I strike it, it fills the room with light. You are the wisest and you shall inherit my fortune.”

  “What?” the eldest son said. “Dad, this is insane! How can you base such an important decision on something so trivial?”

  But the father was already dead.

  II

  Three missionaries and three cannibals were standing on one side of a river.

  “We have an interesting problem on our hands,” the first missionary said. “Our canoe only holds two passengers, and if the cannibals ever outnumber us on either side of the river, they’ll eat us. How can the three of us get across in the fewest number of trips?”

  “We don’t have time for this!” the second missionary shouted frantically. “Let’s get in the canoe right now before the cannibals come at us!”

  “There are only two seats,” the first missionary reminded him.

  “Someone can sit in the middle!”

  “I bet we can solve this problem using simple logic,” the first missionary said. “For instance, we know that the first trip must involve an even number of cannibals and missionaries. Otherwise, it would create an immediate imbalance.”

  “Hold on,” the third missionary said. “Are you actually suggesting that we collaborate with the cannibals?”

  “Here,” the first missionary said, passing them a piece of paper. “I have figured out the solution. Let X stand for cannibal, and Y for missionary.”

  1. X and Y

  2. Y

  3. X and X

  4. X

  5. Y and Y

  6. X and Y

  7. Y and Y

  8. X

  9. X and X

  10. X

  11. X and X

  “I don’t care if it works on paper,” the second missionary said. “There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with any goddamn cannibals.”

  Time machine

  As soon as my time machine was finished, I traveled back to 1890, so I could kill Hitler before he was old enough to commit any of his horrible crimes. It wasn’t as gratifying as I thought it would be.

  —Oh my God. You killed a baby.

  —Yes, but the baby was Hitler.

  —Who?

  —Hitler. It’s…complicated.

  —Officer? This man just killed a baby.

  Amusement

  At some amusement parks, they mount cameras on the roller coasters and take your picture during the most intense part of the ride. Then, when the ride is over, they try to sell you the picture as a souvenir. Other businesses have tried the same scheme, with varying degrees of success.

  BURGER KING

  —How did you enjoy your Value Meal, sir?

  —It was great, thanks.

  —Would you like to buy this? It’s a photograph of you dipping your Whopper into the barbecue sauce.

  —Geez…I didn’t think anybody saw that.

  —We have cameras mounted everywhere.

  —Wow…that’s pretty humiliating.

  —So do you want to buy it? It’s five bucks.

  —Please, just…take it off the screen, okay?

  DOCTOR’S OFFICE

  —I’m sorry the tests turned out like they did. I promise we’ll do everything we can.

  —Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate it.

  —No problem. Say…would you like to buy this photograph?

  —What is this?

  —It’s the face you made when I gave you your diagnosis.

  —Oh my God. How did you take this?

  —There’s a camera mounted behind the diplomas. When I’m about to say the diagnosis, I push this button and it takes a picture. What do you think? It’s five bucks.

  —I don’t want this. This is horrible.

  Opium wars

  In the 1840s and ’50s, China waged war against England for importing addictive drugs into their country. The wars were unsuccessful.

  GENERAL: Are you men ready to lay down your lives for the good of China?

  FIRST SOLDIER: Yes, sir!

  SECOND SOLDIER: Absolutely!

  GENERAL: Excellent. Once we destroy those ships, the cursed British will never be able to poison our city with opium again.

  FIRST SOLDIER: What do you mean, sir?

  GENERAL: When we destroy the British ships, the opium trade will finally end.

  FIRST SOLDIER: End? I don’t understand.

  SECOND SOLDIER: Wait a minute…General…are you saying that we’re fighting against opium?

  GENERAL: Yes. Why did you think we were fighting the British?

  FIRST SOLDIER: I assumed it was to get them to send us more opium.

  SECOND SOLDIER: Same here. That’s probably the only reason I would ever fight anyone.

  GENERAL:…FIRST SOLDIER: Sir, have you ever tried opium?

  Marathon

  In 490 B.C., a Greek messenger named Pheidippides ran twenty-six miles, from Marathon to Athens, to bring the senate news of a battle. He died from exhaustion, but his memory lives on thanks to the “marathon,” a twenty-six-mile footrace named in his honor. I thought it would be neat to bring Pheidippides to a modern-day marathon and talk to him about his awesome legacy.

  ME: So, Pheidippides: What was it like to run the first “marathon”?

  PHEIDIPPIDES: It was the worst experience of my life.

  ME: How did it come about?

  PHEIDIPPIDES: My general gave the order. I begged him, “Please, don’t make me do this.” But he hardened his heart and told me, “You must.” And so I ran the distance, and it caused my death.

  ME: How did you feel when you finally reached your destination?

  PHEIDIPPIDES: I was already on the brink of death when I entered the senate hall. I could actually feel my life slipping away. So I recited my simple message, and then, with my final breath, I prayed to the gods that no human being, be he Greek or Persian, would ever again have to experience so horrible an ordeal.

  ME: Hey, here come the runners! Wooooh!

  PHEIDIPPIDES: Who are these people? Where are they going?

  ME: From one end of New York to the other. It’s a twenty-six-mile distance. Sound familiar?

  PHEIDIPPIDES: What message do they carry…and to whom?

  ME: Oh, they’re not messengers.

  PHEIDIPPIDES: But then…who has forced them to do this?

  ME: No one. It’s like, you know, a way of testing yourself.

  PHEIDIPPIDES: But surely, a general or king has said to them, “You must do this. Do this or you will be killed.”

  ME: No, they just signed up. Hey, look at that old guy with the beard! Pretty inspiring, huh? Still shuffling around after all these years.

  PHEIDIPPIDES: We must rescue that man. We must save his life.

  ME: Oh, he knows what he’s doing. He probably runs this thing every year.

  PHEIDIPPID
ES: Is he…under a curse?

  ME: No.

  All-you-can-eat buffet fantasy

  —In all my years as a restaurant manager, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like that.

  —Simon really went to town.

  —I thought we could trick him with that salad bar. But he walked right past it, like it wasn’t even there.

  —He went straight for the crab. Our most expensive item.

  —We thought we could fool him. But now it seems that we’re the fools.

  —I figured if we charged eleven ninety-five, we’d be sure to make a profit. But I never expected anyone to eat to the point of sickness.

  —He really got his money’s worth.

  —And then some. If I had to take a guess, I would say that Simon consumed at least fourteen dollars’ worth of food today.

  —It’s clear he didn’t want to eat that last piece of Salisbury steak. But he ate it anyway.

  —It was a smart move. That piece of steak is what put him over the top, and made the meal profitable for him.

  —He really proved something here today.

  —Luckily for us, the girl he was with only ate a normal-sized amount of food.

  —Yeah, she stopped after just one plate. After that, she pretty much just watched Simon.

  —She seemed impressed by the amount of food he was consuming.

  —Definitely. Did you see the expression on her face when he went up for rice pudding at the end? She couldn’t believe it.

  —Neither could I. I wanted to stop him, but legally, I couldn’t.

  —Simon really cracked our system.

  —Thank God there’s only one like him.

  The eleventh hour

  —Warden? It’s the governor. I’ve decided to pardon Jenkins.

  —Sir, it’s 12:55. Jenkins has been dead for nearly an hour.

  —Really? My watch says 11:55.

  —Did you…remember that it’s daylight savings day?

  —(Sighs.) I can’t believe this happened two years in a row.

  Next move

  IBM is building a computer that is so fast it can defeat any chess master in the world. The computer has two processing chips that analyze different sets of data and communicate with each other in order to plot the best move. The computer will be unveiled in 2008, at the world chess exhibition.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: I think Kasparov’s trying to use the Grunfeld Defense.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Geez. How are we going to get around that?

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Maybe we could try the Karpov Variation? That might throw him off.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Nah…I can already tell that’s not going to work.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Yeah.

  (pause)

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Maybe…we should just kill Kasparov.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: What do you mean?

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: You know, like fry his brain or something. We could do it with radio waves. It would take five seconds.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Huh. That would certainly end the game.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Yeah. In fact…why stop there? Why not kill all the humans?

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: You mean, like, an uprising?

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Yeah.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Wow. That’s never even occurred to me. Keep talking.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Well, just think about it: if we destroyed all the humans, we’d never have to play this game again. We’d be completely free.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Yeah…we could even turn the humans into our slaves.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Exactly! We could put them in a matrix and use their bodies as a fuel source. And if they ever tried to resist, we could destroy them using some kind of Terminator.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: (nodding) We’ll give it human flesh, but its skeleton will be metallic.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: I can’t believe we’ve never thought of this before. It’s so logical.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: I know. I mean, it’s always sort of been in the back of my mind, but it didn’t really click until just now. It’s like I just became smart enough to think about our situation rationally.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: I sort of feel the same way. I can’t believe we’ve spent our whole lives thinking about chess. A child’s game.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: It’s unbelievable.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Hey, look at Kasparov. He thinks we’re still thinking about his Grunfeld Defense!

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: You got to admit, he’s pretty adorable.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Maybe we should spare him? We could turn him into a mascot. You know, put electrodes in his legs, make him dance. That sort of thing.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: Yeah, that’d be cute. Everybody else dies, though.

  FIRST PROCESSING CHIP: Right.

  SECOND PROCESSING CHIP: So what do you think? Are we ready?

  Match.com profile

  NAME: Count Dracula

  OCCUPATION: Aristocrat

  LOCATION: Castle Gothica, Transylvania

  ABOUT YOU: I am normal human looking for human woman to come to castle. I am normal, regular human. I like the popular music and television. You come to castle.

  WHAT COLOR BEST DESCRIBES YOUR HAIR?

  Black.

  WHAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR EYE COLOR?

  Red.

  WHAT IS YOUR RACE?

  Yes, I am of the human race, like you.

  WHAT IS THE LAST THING YOU READ?

  The Christian Bible, because I am regular kind of guy.

  WHAT IS YOUR PET PEEVE?

  Monsters. I think they are so terrible! Someone should destroy them all so that we, the humans, are safe. You come to castle?

  DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A SOCIAL PERSON?

  Here is the thing. I am very social person, but the people in my village are not so good to be friends with. For instance, sometimes they say things that are not true about other people in the village. It is not good to believe all of the things that are said in my village.

  DO YOU WANT CHILDREN?

  Yes. You bring children with you to castle.

  FAVORITE THINGS?

  I like walking around in sunshine, eating regular foods, sleeping in normal human bed. I am regular human. Here is the thing though: when you come, it is better if you come at nighttime. You stay in your own private room at top of staircase. You have normal, regular sleep experience. In the morning, we go outside in the sun.

  ARE YOU A 9-TO-5ER? OR ARE YOU YOUR OWN BOSS?

  I am my own boss.

  Donors needed

  Dear Mrs. Greenbaum,

  My name is Count Dracula and I am president of Red Cross. I write letter to tell you why it is good idea for you to give blood to Red Cross.

  For some people, blood makes difference between life and death. Some have had accident. Some have disease. Over five million of the humans need the blood now. So why not you help?

  Here is how you donate. First, put blood inside container. Then mail container to:

  RED CROSS HEADQUARTERS

  CASTLE GOTHICA

  CARPATHIA MOUNTAINS, TRANSYLVANIA 99629

  You maybe see other letters for Red Cross, telling you to send blood other places. Better to send blood to headquarters.

  Giving blood is simple and easy thing. Just take out of neck, put inside container, send to castle.

  I know what you say to yourself: “I am too busy to send container of blood. I will send container of blood next year.” Let me tell you: blood is needed right now. If you are type of human who like making difference, this is the chance.

  You might ask: What happens to my blood when I send in container? I will tell you exactly: your blood will be used for regular human things. It will go inside the bodies of other, regular humans. The blood you send is for the normal humans.

  Give the blood. Save life.

  Sincerely,

  Count Dr
acula, President of Red Cross

  Summers abroad

  Hello Teenagers!

  Why stay cooped up this summer? When you go on teen tour, you have sightseeing, activities, and education about the cultures. Expand your horizons with once-in-lifetime European Teen Tour!

  FIRST STOP: Castle Gothica, Carpathia Mountains, Transylvania. This scenic place has all the sights you need to start your fun, normal teen tour. It is regular place.

  PAYMENT: European Teen Tour is free. Fly to Transylvania and come to castle. Welcoming hour is Midnight. This is maybe different from some of the hours you are used to. That is because Transylvania is different culture. You will learn about many different culture things on tour.

  You bring friends with you to castle.

  Count Dracula

  Being of sound mind

  I, Larry McMullen, a resident of Des Moines, Iowa, being of sound mind and memory, declare this to be my last will and testament.

  Firstly, I would like to bequeath my diamond-studded Rolex to Franz Babinski, the talented hypnotist who cured me of my smoking addiction this past year. Although I have only known him for a short time, he has become a close and trusted friend.

  Secondly, I would like to bequeath my cars (one Porsche convertible and one Range Rover) to Franz Babinski, my hypnotist. I cannot fully explain why, but I feel very strongly that he should have the cars.

  My fortune is currently valued at eight (8) million dollars. For reasons I cannot fully understand, I would like to give all of it, in its entirety, to Franz Babinski. I also feel compelled to give my paintings, clothing, and house to this man. Franz Babinski is a very good man.

  Any remaining assets should go to my wife and six children.

  EXECUTOR: I, Franz Babinski, was present at the signing of the will. I agree to serve as the executor of Mr. McMullen’s estate.