Aboard My Train Of Thought, Scott C. Endsley [reading comprehension books .TXT] 📗

Great Author. "Brothers, the good Author has left the key to his kingdom under the mat for us! Be of good cheer. No one can deliver us harm. We must go to this grand place called Earth, a place I have seen.... Yea, even been to! The Great Author speaks of a bliss called America. I've been to this America where people do and say as they please. Let us bring America to Apathonia!" Kram preached as they begin singing Authoritarian hymns.
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(Episode 5)
"You have reached the White House comment line, if you wish to leave a comment for the President, please press one....If you don't wish to leave a comment, but want to find out more about....."

"Come on! Somebody talk to me!" I exclaimed, slamming the receiver down, and then taking another swig from the bottle. Frustrated that I couldn't get through, I gave up and tuned around on my walkman AM radio to give listen to the Flush Limbo show. I hadn't listened to Flush in awhile, and wondered what he thought of Ralph's handling of affairs. (CLICK)

"So tell me, Irma, what exactly don't you like about the President's handling of the, what I call, arrogance in the House and Senate? What would you rather see Mr. McCovey do? Cause I want to find a general consensus among my listeners. Again, what should the President do?" Flush quizzed.

"Resign!" Irma insisted.

"Resign?!!"

"That's right, I've never seen such a rude hoodlum in the White House ever! He's got no manners, the young man hasn't!"

"Yes, but Irma," Flush interrupted, "Finally something's happening out of Washington. For once we're getting something at face value and not just a facade! Wouldn't you agree that his handling of the Supreme Court nominee withdrawal was done in all-out candor? He didn't like the man or what he stood for. His words were 'waste him!' No prettied-up words, just 'Get rid of him'. I hope the man continues his business in such finesse."

"Well, Flush, son, I was brought up in the old school. We raised our hands in hope of our turn, we never spoke up to our elders, and when we disagreed we did so with respect, sir. So may I just suggest to you, sir, that you may have all the respect in the world," Irma interjected.

"Ok, ok," Flush laughed, "So you don't agree, that's ok, Irma, I'm glad you called, anyway.... Let's take one more call. Clyde in Mountain Oyster, Oklahoma. Hi, you're on the Flush Limbo program."

The immediate sound of someone guzzling down something flooded the airwaves as Flush quipped, "I hope that's orange juice!"

"Hey, Flush baby!! I can't believe I actually got through on the first try!! He, He!!"
"Uh, yeah, says here you want to talk about the president's personal hygiene. Now, Clyde, tell me why on earth do you want to discuss this particular issue?" Flush laughed.

"Yeah Flush, Drunken diddlys from the...."

Flush's demeanor changed a bit, "Hey fella, you can call elsewhere, we don't advocate drinking on this..."

"Come on, Flush, you don't wanna talk to the one and only President Hipwing himself? I figured with all the great commentary you gave, and an increase in your listening audience because of my administration, you'd want to at least thank me..."

"President Hipwing, it is a pleasure speaking with you regardless of your current state," Flush apologized after he realized with whom he was speaking.

"What, you have something against Oklahoma?" I slurred.

"No, I mean your immediate inebriated condition. Hang on through the break, Mr. President, we'd love to talk to you some more. We'll be back after these words, ladies and gentlemen."

As the engineer clumsily put the commercial on, Flush immediately inquired as to my whereabouts and safety while sliding a note over to him to call the telephone company to trace my call.

"Mr. President, are you all right?"

"Couldn't be better, Flush! Just hittin' the sauce as they say. My life is just like this bottle of Scotch, Flush... almost empty, but still a few precious drops left," I laughed.

"Now come on, Mr. President, don't talk like that, you're scaring me."

"Oh, I scare you? What the hell do you care, Flush? You had a blast while I was in the White House, didn't you? So go ahead, have a blast over me now."

Flush had his long time friend and advocate, William F. Bucktooth, who just happened to be playing a round of golf in the neighborhood, fill in for him for the rest of the show; while he himself devoted the rest of the afternoon trying to put some sense back into my sloshed brain cells

"Now, Mr. President, I guess I never told you how grateful I was for your efforts in delivering the country from the clutches of the Honorable Homer. I guess you pretty much saved the world... I just want to say thanks for your efforts, sir!" Flush went on to say "I have nothing against you at all... I didn't care much for your policy, that's all, but I would have loved to have gone to a ball game or something with you.... We could still be friends..."

About 45 minutes into Flush's homage as I was trying to swallow the overgrown lump in my throat, there was the loud crash of someone busting through my front door as I observed three secret service agents, cautiously yet forcefully, netting me into what looked like a straitjacket. "Someone's just barged through my door! What's going on?..." I was immediately wisked away then taken to Gladstone Psychiatric Hospital, where I was supposed to spend the next few days in detox.
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(Episode 6)
DR: Ah, Clyde, what a pleasant surprise, are we feeling better!?

ME: Doc, I don't need to be here. I hate hospitals... people DIE in hospitals! Besides, I don't know if I can trust you anymore after the electro-shock therapy incident.

DR: I'm sorry Clyde, but I'm not going to listen to this rubbish. I have no idea of what you're talking about! But as for hospitals, I have to admit I'm not too fond of them myself either; ever since I experienced a strange phenomenon...

ME: What was it, Doc?!

DR: Well, I was only about 10 years old at the time and in surgery to have my appendix removed. I clearly recall floating up against the ceiling. I remember looking down and seeing the Doctor and his nurses discussing the seriousness of my situation, down below. I opened my mouth to speak, when suddenly, I realized my voice sounded unlike it ever had before... I witnessed a beckoning warm sunrise appearing through the uppermost of the venetian blinds. Then, I felt myself slowly descending back on the operating table...

ME: Wow, Doc, you had a near death experience!!!

DR: Nah, nothing like that, they just accidentally gave me helium instead of ether... Now Clyde, I'm your friend and your doctor, you'll just have to trust me and my word. By the way, they have just come out with this great medicine! And when they tried it on monkeys....

ME: I told you, no way, Doc. No meds!!!

DR: ...Any persecuting thoughts?

ME: How can you ask me that? I mean, someone breaks into my house and kidnaps me....

DR: It was for your own good, Clyde. You need to rest for awhile and just forget the outside world.

ME: So tell me, Doc, was I that bad of a President? Huh?

DR: Now Clyde... gibberish, gibberish, gibberish...

ME: Man, I really made an ass out of myself all over the world on Flush's show. Ah, what do I care.... no one concerns themselves with my life anyway....

DR: We did want to surprise you, but for some reason there have been so many cards, letters, flowers, and telephone calls, the nurses have been working overtime just to keep up. But don't concern yourself with that right now. Get some sleep or I'll order the nurses to give you something. By the way, who's Flush?

I became suddenly flooded with emotion as to how many people really cared, and couldn't sleep for all the guilt I felt when I thought about it. How could I have sunk to such a low life? Ah, so what if I was a lousy President, I had a number one best selling book, I thought to myself. Almost four million copies sold! Maybe writing was my calling after all. Maybe when this was all over I could write about the situation in hopes it would touch someone else's life and do some good.

Just as startling as lightning striking the bark of a nearby tree, a heavy-set nurse shoved herself through the door and belched, "I've come to take your temperature!"

A bit stunned at first, I indicated no problem, and opened my mouth.

"I don't take temps orally," she belched even louder.

"What do you mean?!" I nervously asked, sinking under the covers.

"Look, I don't have all day!" she huffed.

"Oh," I laughed, "I suppose you take it under the arm pit... or uh, in my ear, huh?!?" I suggested while reiterating my prior nervous laugh.

"Nope, sorry!" She grinned her evil grin. Luckily, All of a sudden there was a huge thud as the hospital electricity shut down and all the I.V. alarms went off. The sound of women screaming down the hall triumphed over the early afternoon silence. The heavy-set nurse looked a bit perturbed and said, "Don't move, I'll be back!"

I immediately bellowed in relief, but as soon as she disappeared up the hall, she cried out, "Oh my God!!!"

"What!? What is it!?" I yelled out from my bed, helpless, as I was pretty much strapped in.
As all the people in the hallway had either run for the elevators, or fainted, the hospital became abnormally quiet once more. I laid there sweating and wondering what was going on while praying that the brutish nurse would be back to protect me. Then the resonance of quiet approaching footsteps filled the hall. I sat trembling as they came closer and closer. Suddenly my startled eyes spied five fingers and a thumb round the door as it slowly creaked open. There stood a creature more hideous than I'd ever seen or imagined before.

"Nurse, help!" I called out to the heavy-set barbarian, who had long vanished down the hall out one of the emergency exits.

"Your Great Authorship, sir," the creature bowed, "We've received your message on planet Apathonia. We've come to take you with us. Please help us in our effort to overthrow the evil one, I beg ye!"

"DOC! I NEED MY MEDS!!! HELP!!!" I panicked.
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(Episode 7)
Under the light of his own glory, Jehovah God finished the book he was reading, Aboard My Train Of Thought, and tossed it aside. "Archangel Michael, are you busy? Come in here," he called out from his throne.

"Yes, Your Holiness." Michael rounded the corner.

"This book that you gave me, have you read it?"

"Indeed, I have, sir" Michael snickered, "a bit on the silly side, wouldn't you say, sir?"

"Silly or not, have you noticed his plagiarizing from my book?" God protested.

"Well, now that you mention it, sir, seems I do recall something about manna falling from heaven in the first story," Michael laughed, "but, I wouldn't worry, sir, everyone with half a brain knows you came up with it first."

"That's not the point, Mike. People do these things all the time without