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

asking me. It's not that I would say no, I'd just like to be considered before people up and do things."

"Well sir, they all know they can pray. Surely not all are forgetful of this," Michael suggested.

"Well, some more than others, I suppose," God sighed. "If only....." Before he could finish, Gabriel, the celestial doorbell, blared his trumpet. "Better go let the new arrivals in, Mike."

"Of course, sir, excuse me." Michael looked out the peephole of the blessed door. "Oh dear, God. It looks like there's been a disaster or something on earth. There's at least 200 souls outside Peter's gate waiting to check in."

God looked up from the book. "Yeah, it was a plane crash. Luckily no one suffered as it happened so fast. You know, I guess no one's going to understand till after judgment day about my love and mercy. Then they are going to see that the paradise I've promised will make all the suffering worthwhile in the long run. If only I had just got rid of Satan a long time ago, there would have been no suffering."

"Well, it's not your fault, Jehovah, he rebelled, and he knows his undoing is near. You tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. You've got a big heart, don't beat yourself over the head."

"Thanks, Mike." God looked up, "Well, we've got a busy day, go ahead and bring in the new arrivals."

Michael walked over the heavenly door again, opened it and called out, "Ok, Pete...send them inside!"

One by one they filed in line to go before God's seat of power, but they all just seemed to be looking around as if tourists at Graceland. God the Father stood up with his hands out and greeted them. "Welcome home, children! This is your new home for all time. I have many good things in store for you."

A rather scrawny looking man in the middle of the row raised his hand to ask God a question. "Yes, go ahead and ask, George!" God smiled.

The man was stunned that he didn't need to introduce himself and asked "I don't understand! There's not one missing from the plane. Apparently no one went to Hell!!! Now, I know all these people don't belong to my church. So how come they all made it here, huh?"

God laughed. "George, you don't go to Heaven or Hell for doing all the right or wrong things. You go to Heaven because you wanted it bad enough to make preperations in your heart... the same with Hell. The only reason you all are here is because you wanted what I've offered you. There is no other reason, George. Any other questions?"

George looked a bit disappointed that Jehovah wasn't the ogre he'd long expected him to be. God began handing out keys to their heavenly mansions they had all been promised, when someone else suddenly spoke up, "Where is your son?"

God looked up at his free Triple A Road Service calander he'd recently received in the mail, "Oh, he's out in the sheep bend right now... some varmints got inside the fence and he's dividing the sheep from the goats as we speak. He should be returning with the flock any millennium now."
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(Episode 8)
On our 2nd day of Soaring through the Milky Way galaxy, Kram Oingomeyer, and a few disciples who went along for the ride, were having a most troubling time convincing me of my divine manifest destiny. Still a bit troubled by my captors' appearances, I found it difficult to believe these strange beings meant me no harm. After a day and a half of my refusal to speak, I finally gave in, "What do you want of me? Your people have no need of me. I'm just a low life!!!" I insisted in hope they wouldn't find out I was the ex-President, for fear they might hold me for ransom or something.

"Author Hipwing. We beseech ye!... Please help our people in the struggle for self autonomy. Our enemy, the Greatest of Greats, has our freedom under her feet. You sent us your word from afar, and we're listening.... Please help us, oh Holy One!" Kram pleaded.

Taken aback by Mr. Oingomeyer's apparent desperate plea, I realized these beings thought of me as some sort of god. But, what would give them this idea? So I figured if I played along they wouldn't harm me. "Oh you puny little ones," I scoffed, "how be it ye of little faith knew of my divine presence, and thus among the petty weeds ye kneweth where to findeth and eateth the fruit of my omnipresence.?"

"Huh?!" Kram scratched his bald head.

"How did you know where to find me?" I reiterated.

"Oh, I figured it out after reading this," the alien answered, handing me a copy of my own book.

"Where did you get that?" I asked a bit startled.

Kram then educated me with a long drawn-out story of how the book hit him in the face... thus returning his sight. Then once reading it, how it opened his spiritual eyes. At that moment Kram got on his right knee and began kissing my filthy Adidas.

I was beginning to like the significance being paid me by these peculiar disfigured beings, but still, I was baffled how a copy of my book ended up on the other side of the Milky Way. Could it be that perhaps I did have a divine calling? I decided going to Apathonia wouldn't be so bad after all if I was going to be treated so godlike. "Ok Kram, you can stop kissing my feet and bring me my dinner. What have my subjects prepared for this journey?" I, the now Almighty Author asked with a command.

"Ah yes, my lord, what would you like? We have three-headed dongwazzle flesh steak, or spongy bootlicker soup, or Great Divine One, if you're hungry for a feast... the chef has prepared...."

"No, I believe... er um... You foolish heathen! I was just testing your knowledge. I, the divine Author, do not partake of such materialistic food. My food comes from above, and is absorbed in the soul and nourishes the spirit, then leaves my body through the infinite knowledge I speak... how could you insult me with such pig slop?!"

"Of course! Forgive me, Holy One!" Kram got down on repented knees once again and began kissing my feet.

"Ok, ok, you are forgiven, stop getting my tennis shoes wet, they'll shrink! Now, what will you have me do once back on Apathonia?" I demanded.

"The Greatest of Greats needs to be dealt with, your lordship. Our people have no minds for themselves. She's made laws making it a crime to be in possession of ambition. Because drudes and prudes alike have not thought for themselves for so many centuries, they have become conditioned to do nothing. Our population is dwindling due to the fact most have forgotten or lost interest in the prerequisites necessary for reproduction... The flesh is willing, but the spirit is weak!"

"So what do you want me to do, increase everyone's libido?! You don't need me, you need to bring back a bottle of Viagra!" I laughed.

Oingomeyer blurted out with an indignant tone, "With all respect, sir, it is no laughing matter!!... By the way, what's Viagra, some sort of soft drink?"

"I wouldn't know..." I blushed while trying to ignore Kram's irresistible yet unintentional pun, but soon after became distracted from our conversation as I noticed what appeared to be daylight slipping though the partially veiled window. "What's this, are we getting ready to land?"

"Yes, welcome to Apathonia, oh Great One!!"

I was just beginning to drop my guard around Kram... for he seemed to be an unthreatening sort. "Uh, you can knock off all that Great One stuff; dispite my universal significance, I'm just a regular guy just like you, Kram. From now on, why don't you just call me Clyde?"

"Clyde?!? Is that how you pronounce it?!" Kram laughed with an awkward bobbing of the head.
"Yes, Clyde. What's so funny?"

Kram could hardly catch his breath. "In Apathonian language what you pronounce as Clyde is the word used for urinal!!! You'd better let me refer to you as Great One around the others."
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(Episode 9)
Always having its eye on The World, at all times....... This is NBS NEWS, serving the American people with the complete daily wrap up...... And now, here's NBS news anchor man..... Peter Waylon Jennings!!!!

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, we begin our report tonight with the possible alien abduction of ex-President Clyde P. Hipwing. According to a White House source, it began early Thursday afternoon when an un-named friend of the president checked him into Gladstone Psychiatric Hospital for severe depression and exhaustion.

The President was there for no more than 2 days when suddenly, sources say, three small peculiar beings lowered themselves through a ceiling attic door. As most nurses and doctors fled, and many of them fainted, witnesses say they proceeded down the hall to the ex-President's room and supposedly abducted him and made an escape out of a secured window.
With us on the scene is Ted Koppler. Ted, what new information do you have this afternoon?

Peter, I have two witnesses here at the Gladstone Mental Facility, two nurses as a matter of fact, who witnessed the event! Let's start with Ruth Snobgrass. Ruth, just what did you see!?

"Ok hun, I was at the front desk, and had just got finished with a bed pan... The light in room 203 had just gone off, and that was Mr. Michael's room. Mr. Michael had just had a BM and it was his first all week!! We were quite thrilled for him, considering all the fiber mixed with juice we made him drink. Anyway, Sally, one of the candy stripers let out a blood curdling scream...."

She saw the Aliens?!?!

"No, she had to clean Mr. Michael's bed because he didn't get to the port-o-potty in time!"

Yeah, yeah, when exactly did you see the Aliens?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't. But Susan here, did! Tell them what you saw, hun."

"I saw that each of them had two huge black eyes, a bulbous head, and six fingers on each hand. It was awful.. I..I never want to see them again!!"

Did they say anything to you?... Did you communicate with the Aliens in any way, shape, or form!?

"Well, one of them did mention they had been traveling for two days straight... he was jumping up and down, holding himself, and kept repeating over and over, "Do you have a Clyde?! Do you have a Clyde?!" I checked the patient list, and the only Clyde I found was the ex-President, so I showed him where to go."

Well, there you have it, Peter, a couple of witnesses and their first hand stories. Back over to you....

Thanks, Ted. We now have on the phone a Dr. Giles Endicotsley, a retired university professor, who claims to not only know where the Aliens came from, but has been to their planet when he himself was abducted. He also claims to know what they want. Uh...Mr. Endicotsley, can you substantiate your claims with proof of any kind?

"Hello, Peter, all I have I'm afraid is me word. The aliens are from a distant planet 50 light years away, called Apathonia."

And just what do they want with the ex-President? Do you believe he is in harm's way?

"Oh, no, no, no. A friendly bunch I have to say.