Free-Range Chickens

by Simon Rich

  WITNESS: I, Mrs. McMullen, was present at the signing of my husband’s will. I agree that it is a good idea for Franz Babinski to be the executor. Franz Babinski is a very good man. He should get all of the things in the will.

  SECOND WITNESS: I, Larry McMullen, Jr., think that Franz Babinski is a very good man. He should get all of the things.

  Moses

  According to the Book of Exodus, God gave Moses 613 commandments on top of Mount Sinai. Everyone knows the first ten, but the others are often ignored. Here are some of them:

  608: If a man goes up a mountain for a few days to talk to God, his employer should compensate him for the amount of work he missed while he was gone.

  609: If a man goes up a mountain for a few days to talk to God, his wife should be pleasant to him when he returns home, and not get on his case about organizing the spoons in the cabinet.

  610: A few months ago, Aaron and Moses made a bet about how many oxen could fit inside of a barn. Moses’ guess was right. Aaron owes him twenty dollars.

  611: If it takes a man a long time to lead his people out of the desert and into the Promised Land, everyone should just be patient with him and learn to chill out a little.

  612: If a man wants to smoke his pipe in bed, his wife should let him, especially if he’s had a stressful day leading people around in the desert.

  613: Everyone has to give Moses five dollars.

  I think my teenaged daughter knows I read her diary

  Dear Diary,

  I have the greatest Dad in the whole world! He is so cool and smart and his words have such a huge impact on me. For example, I never try any drugs because he told me not to. I especially have not tried Ecstasy.

  Love,

  Sarah

  Dear Diary,

  Something sad happened today. I was giving a presentation when all of a sudden the entire class started pointing at me and laughing.

  “Your clothes are cheap,” they said. “Why don’t you wear name-brand clothes?”

  “Yeah,” the teacher said. “Why don’t you?”

  I didn’t know what to say! The other kids were screaming with laughter and some of them were spitting on me.

  “You’re the only girl in the class without name-brand clothes,” the teacher said.

  Love,

  Sarah

  Dear Diary,

  Guess what? I think my Dad has lost some weight and re-grown some of the hair on the sides of his head! Also his new ear-hair cutting thing is really working—there is almost no hair in his ears anymore!

  The strangest thing happened in school today. I got to French class early and Ms. Kolber was already there. She had her feet on the desk and she was drinking something out of a glass bottle.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Vodka,” she said. “I always drink during school.”

  “Wh—at??” I said. “Really??”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m a secret alcoholic and nobody knows except for you.”

  Then she took a bag of red pills out of her pocket.

  “I also take pills,” she said, swallowing some of the pills.

  “But you’re not supposed to mix pills and alcohol!!” I said.

  She shrugged like it was no big deal. Then she handed me an envelope, addressed to my father.

  “Your grades have been slipping,” she said.

  “Are you sure you didn’t make some kind of a mistake grading?” I asked.

  She tried to respond, but her mouth was too full of pills and vodka.

  “If you ever tell anyone about my problems,” she finally said, “I’ll just deny it.”

  Love,

  Sarah

  Dear Diary,

  On Saturday night I will be attending an all-night study party at Becky Greenblatt’s house. Drake is picking me up in his truck and driving me there but he is not staying at Becky’s. He is just dropping me off there and then going somewhere else while I stay at Becky’s all night, studying with a group of only girls. On Sunday morning, Drake is picking me up at the study session and driving me back home—but he is definitely not going to be staying overnight at the study party, because no boys are invited.

  There are a lot of books to read so when I get back home on Sunday morning I will probably look pretty exhausted and strung out.

  Love,

  Sarah

  Dear Diary,

  Something great happened today! I was hanging out with Drake, in a public place, when all of a sudden he said, “Guess what, Sarah? I think I’m going to start applying myself.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I’m going to stop being a delinquent and start having life prospects,” he said. “And I’m going to stop hanging out with those kids who use drugs and then plant them on me sometimes so that I get in trouble even though I never do any drugs.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s great!”

  “That’s not all,” he said. “I’ve decided to go back to high school and get my diploma.”

  “Really?” I said. “How come?”

  “Simple,” he said. “You can’t become an assistant regional sales manager for Hurwitz Amalgamated Appliances and Machinery without a degree. And that’s what I want to be when I grow up.”

  When I told him that my Dad had that exact job he couldn’t believe it!

  “Wow,” he said. “Your Dad sounds incredible. The more nice things you tell me about him, the more I respect him. That said, I don’t have time to meet him, because I’m so busy studying all the time. I’ll probably never meet your father and he should definitely stop asking to meet me, but I really look up to him.”

  Maybe if my Dad knew about this side of Drake, he wouldn’t say so many mean things about him?

  “Even though I’m re-enrolling in high school,” Drake added, “my name won’t be listed in the yearbook or in any of the other official documents given out to parents at the start of each semester. It’s a rule the school has.”

  Love,

  Sarah

  Dear Diary,

  Someone framed Drake for drug dealing! The police arrested him in school but everybody knows he’s innocent. He needs $1000 bail or else he’s going to have to spend the night in jail for something he didn’t even do! I hope I can find someone nice enough to help him.

  Love,

  Sarah

  P.S. You want to know something? My Dad is so cool that he’s kind of like my best friend.

  Last Supper

  JESUS: It has been revealed to me by my Father that before this night is over one of you will betray me. Let us enjoy this final Passover meal, for it will be our last together.

  THOMAS: Who’s going to betray you?

  JESUS: It will be revealed in time.

  MATTHEW: Come on, man, you can’t do that.

  THOMAS: Yeah, you can’t just say “Hey, guys, I have this amazing piece of gossip” and then not tell us what it is.

  JESUS: You will know the truth soon enough.

  JAMES: Damn it. This is going to drive me crazy.

  JESUS: This bread is my body. This wine—

  BARTHOLOMEW: Why did you bring it up at all if you weren’t going to tell us? I mean seriously, who does that?

  THOMAS: If we guess it, will you tell us?

  MATTHEW: Is it John? It’s John, isn’t it!

  JESUS: It isn’t John. Friends, please…let’s just enjoy this final meal together.

  THOMAS: We can’t enjoy it now!

  MATTHEW: Whisper it in my ear. I promise I won’t tell.

  JESUS: I can’t, okay? It’s a really big secret.

  THOMAS: Okay. Now you have to tell us.

  JUDAS: Guys, give him a break. If he doesn’t want to tell, he doesn’t want to tell.

  What I want my tombstone to say when I die of encephalitis next week

  Here lies Simon Rich, 1984–2008. He died of encephalitis. In the days leading up to his death, his friends made the following comments:

  JOSH: Simon, rel
ax, there’s no way you have encephalitis.

  ROB: That looks like a regular mosquito bite to me. I really wouldn’t worry if I were you.

  KYLE: Just because you saw something on the news about encephalitis, doesn’t mean you have encephalitis. I mean, there have only been, like, five cases in the entire country.

  JAKE: Jesus, Simon, will you stop talking about encephalitis?

  MONICA: Yeah, it looks swollen, but that’s just because you’ve been poking at it all day, like a crazy person.

  AZHAR: Don’t take this the wrong way, Simon, but I think this whole thing might be psychological. You’ve been kind of depressed lately and I think you’re using this encephalitis thing as a way to distract yourself from all of the things that you’re really afraid of. You know what I mean?

  BRENT: Don’t look it up on Wikipedia, you’re just going to freak yourself out.

  MATT: Dude, it’s two in the morning. I don’t care what Wikipedia said. Listen, if you’re really that scared about it, you should go see a doctor, okay?

  DOCTOR MURPHY: Looks like we’ve got a little case of hypochondria on our hands! (Laughs.)

  JAKE: You saw a doctor? Good, now we can finally move on.

  Thor’s Day

  Thursday is named after Thor, son of Odin, the Norse god of thunder.

  —What’s wrong, honey?

  —I don’t want to talk about it.

  —Is it the humans?

  —…

  —Honey, we’ve been through this. They still respect you.

  —Well then they sure have a funny way of showing it.

  —If they don’t respect you, why do they celebrate Thursday every week?

  —That’s the only thing.

  —Still, if they didn’t respect you, they’d get rid of it.

  —Okay…maybe they respect me. But they don’t fear me.

  —What’s the difference?

  —What’s the difference? What’s the difference? (Face bursts into flames.)

  —All right…I’m sorry.

  —I am Thor, son of Odin!

  —I know, sweetie.

  —They didn’t even give me one of the weekend days.

  —It could be worse. Look what they gave Woden.

  —Are you comparing me to Woden?

  —No, honey—of course not.

  —(Sighs.) I’m not even really that angry…I’m just hurt. Do you know I haven’t received a blood sacrifice in over twelve hundred years?

  —What about that rock band? From Sweden?

  —It wasn’t a real sacrifice. I watched the video in slow motion.

  —Are you sure?

  —They used effects. It wasn’t even a real goat.

  —You didn’t tell me about that.

  —I was too embarrassed.

  —You want to know something?

  —What.

  —I still fear you.

  —You’re just saying that.

  —Honey…you’ve got iron spikes coming out of your neck…your face is constantly bursting into flames…you’re the most frightening god I’ve ever seen.

  —More frightening than Dagr, son of Nott?

  —Yes, more frightening than Dagr.

  —And Tyr, son of—

  —Yes, baby. More frightening than any of the sons of Hymir.

  —Hey…are you hungry? Because if you are, I was thinking…maybe I could cook dinner for a change.

  —Oh, honey, you don’t have to—

  —I could make my chili recipe. But I won’t put in so many peppers this time! I’ll make it mild.

  —That sounds great, love.

  Free-range chickens

  —Well, it’s another beautiful day in paradise.

  —How’d we get so lucky?

  —I don’t know and I don’t care.

  —I think I’ll go walk over there for a while. Then I’ll walk back here.

  —That sounds like a good time. Maybe I’ll do the same.

  —Hey, someone refilled the grain bucket!

  —Is it the same stuff as yesterday?

  —I hope so.

  —Oh, man…it’s the same stuff all right.

  —It’s so good.

  —I can’t stop eating it.

  —Hey, you know what would go perfectly with this grain? Water.

  —Dude. Look inside the other bucket.

  —This…is the greatest day of my life.

  —Drink up, pal.

  —Cheers!

  —(Laughs.)

  —(Laughs.)

  —Hey, look, the farmer’s coming.

  —Huh. Guess it’s my turn to go into the thing.

  —Cool. See you later, buddy.

  —See ya.

  Dalmatians

  —Hey, look, the truck’s stopping.

  —Did they take us to the park this time?

  —No…it’s a fire. Another horrible fire.

  —What the hell is wrong with these people?

  Lab study

  The FDA banned ephedra last week, after a four-week laboratory study revealed that the drug causes dangerous side effects.

  —evening edition

  CONTROL MOUSE: Hey, man, is everything all right? You don’t look so good.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: I don’t know. I’m just…I’m feeling pretty on edge.

  CONTROL MOUSE: Did something happen?

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: No, it’s nothing specific. I’ve just kind of been in a funk all month. I can’t sleep, can’t eat. I’ve been having some really weird dreams. (Sighs.) I guess the heat’s just getting to me.

  CONTROL MOUSE: What heat?

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: You don’t feel that? That intense heat?

  CONTROL MOUSE: (shrugging) I don’t feel anything.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Huh.

  CONTROL MOUSE: You know what it is? You’re probably stressed out about that maze.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Yeah, maybe. I got to admit, that thing’s been getting me pretty frustrated lately. I just don’t get it. We’re the exact same age, we’ve had the exact same training, but you win every single time.

  CONTROL MOUSE: I guess some guys are just more naturally gifted than others.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Yeah, I guess. It’s weird, though…a few weeks ago, I was pretty good at the maze. Sometimes I beat you, sometimes you beat me. We were about even. And then, out of nowhere, I fell into this slump.

  CONTROL MOUSE: It’s not your fault. I’ve just gotten really good lately. Maybe if you tried a little harder, you could catch up?

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Maybe. It’s that flashing light by the second turn that keeps messing me up. Every time

  I see it, I start convulsing and foaming at the

  mouth.

  CONTROL MOUSE: What flashing light?

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Man…it got cold all of a sudden. Aren’t you cold?

  CONTROL MOUSE: No.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Huh. I guess it’s just my side of the cage that keeps changing.

  CONTROL MOUSE: Hey, look, the door’s opening. I think we’re getting a new roommate.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: Oh yeah, here he comes. Whoa…that guy is huge.

  CONTROL MOUSE: (whispering) Why do his muscles keep vibrating like that?

  EPHEDRA MOUSE: (whispering) I don’t know, but it’s really freaking me out.

  CREATINE MOUSE: Hey, punks. I hear you think you’re pretty good at mazes.

  EPHEDRA MOUSE:…

  CONTROL MOUSE:…

  CREATINE MOUSE: Bow down and worship me as you would a god.

  Herbert Hoover

  HERBERT HOOVER: If I’m elected president, I promise that there will be a car in every garage and a chicken in every pot.

  FIRST CHICKEN: Jesus Christ, did you guys hear that?

  SECOND CHICKEN: Hear what?

  FIRST CHICKEN: Some guy running for president just said on the radio that he was going to kill one chicken per U.S. family!

  SECOND CHICKEN: Seriously? He singled us out?

  FIRST CHICKEN: Yes. It was like so
me kind of crazy vow.

  SECOND CHICKEN: What are we going to do?

  Prehistoric life

  PREHISTORIC CAMPING

  —Hey, man, do you want to go camping this weekend?

  —What do you mean?

  —I was thinking we could climb a mountain and, you know, hang out for a couple of days.

  —Why?

  —I don’t know…I just sort of feel like getting away for a while.

  —Getting away from what? Are there any predators coming?

  —No.

  —Did you see any predators?

  PREHISTORIC SMALL TALK

  —Hey, Ted. Seen any predators?

  —Nope. You?

  —Nah. Not lately.

  —What are you up to this weekend?

  —I don’t know. I’ll probably stand on a rock, look out for predators.

  —Yeah, same here.

  —Cool. See ya later.

  —See ya.

  PREHISTORIC MARRIAGE

  —Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?

  —I do.

  —Have you seen any predators?

  —No.

  —Has anyone seen any predators?

  (pause)

  —Okay…we’re safe for a little while.

  Everything happens for a reason

  ANGEL: God? Can I ask you a question?

  GOD: Sure, I’m not busy.

  ANGEL: Does everything really happen for a reason?

  GOD: Of course.

  ANGEL: Well, in that case, would it be okay if I asked you to explain…the logic…behind some of your decisions?

  GOD: Fire away.

  ANGEL: Okay. Why did Seth Brody of Hartford, Connecticut, have a seizure while ordering a hamburger at Denny’s?