The Golden Liver: A Short Story

Submitted by James Cartwheeler
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Wednesday, 28 July 2010

The Golden Liver


The bitter taste of a jack spiraled down my throat. I didn't get drunk by the first glass but repetition is the key to success. After 10 or so glasses I was half past the finish line when my realm of reality screeched to a halt. I entered a land full of joy with no one around to guilt you in to having less fun than them. There was a water park that was built on a green elephant rising into the clouds slowly but surely. There was a fat lady that couldn't get up off the ground so she compensated for taking up space by allowing everyone to use her as a trampoline. There was a man throwing up into his vehicle's fuel tank hoping the oil he drank earlier today would be put to good use.

Vehicles….

Vehicles….

The scotch I drank rammed my consciousness into another world. It took me a farther destination than any car or plane can. My drunkenness is a vehicle into Happy Gold Fun Land.

What the hell is Happy Gold Fun Land?

"What is Happy Gold Fun Land?" asked a native who happened to be walking around.

"You can read my thoughts?" I answered.

"Well, of course. Here in Happy Gold Fun Land everyone can read each others thoughts. That way there ain't no lying." The native responded.

"Don't you think everyone's a little too happy?"

"There aint such thing as too happy. That's like stopping in a race for going too fast." The native mumbled.

"I think I'm hallucinating. There's no way this could be real." Said I.

"You are hallucinating. Just because you're hallucinating don't mean Happy Gold FUN Land isn't real." The native said.

"You invented Happy Gold FUN land because you were unhappy. That why you drunk all them drinks." He continued.

"What are you a shrink?" I said.

"You wanted a place where people ought to be honest and benevolent. You wanted the polar opposite of Earth." He answered my question indirectly.
"I see, so I'm kind of like God here right?" I said.

"Who's God?" the native asked.

A smirk streamed across God's face and the magnitude of ideas that flowed through his brain had severely increased. Then suddenly he flew up into the air. The sky turned purple and a disco ball lowered from the heavens. All people everywhere had flashing neon skin.

And as soon as it started it ceased.

"What the . . . .?" Said someone somewhere.

"No cursing in Happy Gold Fun Land!" said God.

With a swift strike of golden lightning the man who had cursed had been disembowel into 546 pieces. His organs had been strewn across trees and telephone poles and buildings. A photograph was taken of his remains and was enlarged, framed, and posted on the biggest building of the world so all of humanity can see.

"These are the consequences of making land less happy!" said God.

"There will be no unhappy music, art, movies, conversations, looks, thoughts, feelings, eyes, faces, eyebrows, animals, reptilians. Anyone who is unhappy shall be executed." God continued.

"But clinical depression is a serious illness." yelled a bystander.

"And can't you make us happy all the time? Why do we have to do it ourselves?" he continued.

"Eh, this is a test?" God said.

How the hell do I do that?

"You don't know how to make everyone happy? Aren't you god?" asked a bystander.

Shit, I forgot they can read my thoughts.

"How could you forget something that big?" he said.

If I can think my words and everyone can hear it then why the hell do we need speech?"

"I don't know, you're God." And said.

"Stop talking back, how about that?" God asked.

"Hey I'm starting to doubt if we elected the right God."

"This isn't a god damn democracy, citizen."

"I don't think I want to believe in you anymore."

God was about to say something godly but a freak accident occurred. A portal of some sort full of numbers with the numbers 6:30 being accentuated had appeared and sucked in God. It was time for work?

I had woken in my bed with throw up on my sheets and urine on my pants. Unfortunately it wasn't mine on the count that I still had to go to the bathroom.

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