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

swear, the nerve of some men!!!"

On the way to my execution that evening I waved to the cheering and scoffing Apathonians. The Authoritarians remained silent, fearing retribution. I was brought up to the elevated platform where they attempted to intimidate me by making me watch while they put a large dongwazzle egg under the machinery, to demonstrate my impending demise. "This is your brain," the executioner boasted, then added as he pulled the lever, "and this is your brain on toast!" When the crowd gasped, I turned to them with a confident smile.

They bound my hands and feet, and pushed me toward the deadly contraption. They then laid me on my back, without a blindfold, on a board that was slid under the mechanical arms. A large Apathonian who looked like he hadn't gone any farther than the third grade mumbled, "Fee Fie Foe Fum.... ah heck, I can't count," and then pulled back on the lever as I felt my skull fracture over the hot skillet. Then, there was nothing...
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(Episode 16)
I awoke from the nightmare of my short physical life and found myself in a euphoric grassy field. I rose to my feet and noticed in the distance a beautiful gate with a bearded man who appeared to be guarding it. As I approached I noticed my walk seemed exceptionally effortless.

"Hey, you there! You're supposed to check in with me before you go wandering around. Get over here. Come on!" The bearded man called out.

I seemed to approach him immediately at the moment he ordered me to come hither, "Where am I, and who are you?"

"Oh, please, can't you new people ever think of something original to ask? I've heard that on a daily routine for two thousand years now!" St Peter rolled his eyes. "What's your name, son?" he asked flipping through a book of reservations.

"Clyde P. Hipwing."

"Clyde P.... Oh, you're the one who wrote that silly book the boss gave to everyone at Christmas! I ought to... No, he's probably watching," the bewhiskered fellow complained.

"Is this Heaven?" I asked.

"Well, inside this gate is.... Actually, you're standing in Purgatory! You better step in here before you have to suffer awhile! Little joke... Come in, the boss is waiting.... Ok Gabe, do your thing!!!!"

We proceeded to the heavenly door as Gabriel played a few resounding bars of "The Bugle Boy Of Company B." "What was that supposed to be?!" I asked startled.

"If you've been paying attention to this story all along you ought to know by now!" he scoffed.

Archangel Michael escorted me the rest of the way to the Holy Throne as Peter went back to his watchman duty. When I caught a glimpse of God I all at once felt faint, but something beyond my control kept me on my feet.

"Jehovah, this is Mr. Clyde P. Hipwing," Michael announced.

God seemed to be looking up at the stars overhead, admiring his handiwork. "Yes, of course. We've got lots to talk about, young man!"

I swallowed hard. "Uh, we do?"

"Let's talk about the book!!!" he waved his finger at me in a scolding fashion.

"Um. Uh, I'm sorry, sir, that I didn't read it as much as I should have, you see...."

"No, no!" God interrupted, "not mine, yours!"

"M-Mine?" I stuttered.

"A very entertaining piece of writing, son, but what's with the idea of borrowing ideas from mine, such as, manna falling from heaven? Hmmm?" God leaned closer.

"Well, that was just for humor's sake, sir. I...."

"Humor, Heh?" God sighed. "Well, let's see, you've read my book three times now, I assume that's right. Just between authors.... What did you think of mine?"

"Huh?!?! You're asking me what I thought about.... Well, I've always loved it, sir! Honest! But, some parts confuse me.... not that it's confusing, sir!!! But, I'm sure a lot of people get confused. Have you ever thought about writing a follow up that would better explain it to us feeble-witted humans?"

"Yes, I've thought of it... But, I'm afraid that would cause a lot of trouble. There are a lot of books out there that I've supposedly written, you know. I'll admit, I've co-written a few, but my co-authors usually get tarred and feathered, or worse," God lamented. "I do need to revise it one of these days, cause there's a big typo error in the New Testament... it was supposed to read: 'Repent and be Baptist, for all fall short of the glory of the Assembly Of God.....'hee hee... that was a joke son, chill out!"

"God, did I....."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that, it sounds so generic... my name is Jehovah and I like it just fine!"

"Ok, Jehovah then," I corrected myself. "Is.. is this where I'm going to be from now on? I tried to live a good life..."

"No, I'm sorry!"

"NO? Oh, I see," I hung my head to the ground in disappointment and dismay.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you, that's all... I'm sending you back, you see," God smiled.

"To where?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"I want to stay here!!!" I protested.

"No, I'm sorry, you're only 37 years old, and besides, we're a bit behind on our mansion building because of the lack of cut timber due to a work stoppage in Purgatory. I'm thinking about sending you back to Apathonia to undo all the mess you've created, trying to portray yourself as a Omnipotent being" God scolded.

"Well, if I go back now, after I've been beheaded they're gonna really think I'm the Creator, especially after resurrecting from the dead!!!" I nervously laughed aloud.

"I suppose you're right," God joined in laughter, "Even though the Apathonians really know better.... You see, humans on planet Earth, in the city of Atlantis, began DNA experimentation, creating six fingers on all newborns for better dexterity, about 10,000 BC. Things got out of hand though, as scientists began mutating animals with humans. A small group of God-fearing Earth dwellers that didn't like what was going on, fled in search of a deserted and habitable planet, thus Apathonia came into being. They're all born with an innate knowledge of the true Creator, just like humans, because the Apathonians and the people of Earth are really one and the same... they've just been genetically modified. I destroyed the remaining few on Earth during the flood...." God then changed the subject, "Well, they're plenty worried about you on Earth, so I suppose I'll send you back there, but don't tell them how you came back. I don't need anymore people going crazy worshipping anyone else but me. Just go back to your meager paper route!"

"And I suppose I should lie about the truth?" I kiddingly tested God., "I would rather return to the Oval Office and get another crack at it. I think I can be a better President if you'll just give me one more chance, and send me back before I was abducted by the Apathonians... By the way, could I please have my dog and cat back too... I miss my two best friends horribly."

God was obviously moved by my request and reached for a soft cloud to blow his nose on. "All right, no problem, but I'm afraid your friend Ralph has bowed out. He'd been praying for an easy way to escape all the responsibility you left him with, but another goofball named Ross Parole, has been begging me for the job for 8 years now, so I let him have it... I guess I can demote him to V.P. once you take up office again."

"Ross Parole?" I gasped.

"Yes... so are you ready to go back now, Mr. Hipwing?"

"No, wait a minute, Jehovah, there are a lot of questions I've always wanted to ask you!"

"Here we go again," God rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What exactly are black holes, you know, out in space?" I asked in suspense of learning what no other scientist would even come close to understanding.

"Black holes, huh?" God laughed, "Well, you might say they are my version of Windows 95, but of course, on a much grander scale. Ok, any more?"

"Yeah, which DID come first, the chicken or the egg?"

"Hmmmmmmm, chicken or the..... Look, I don't have time for such foolishness. I'm sending you back now."

"But, God I..."

"Sorry, see you in six months!" God warned.

"SIX MONTHS?!?!"

"Ha, Ha! Just a divine joke.... Toodle loo!" God laughed.

Suddenly I felt myself going down a large and strange black tunnel, all the stars and planets in the universe seem to be flying by. I looked below and there was an approaching light. It was getting closer, closer, and closer... After getting even a closer observation, I noticed below me an approaching couch. Why, it was a Psychiatric couch!

(PLOP!!!!)
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(Episode 17)
DR: Hey Clyde, how did we do this week?

ME: Doc?!

DR: Something wrong, Clyde?

ME: Boy, you just wouldn't believe what this week has been like!

DR: Oh, so tell me about it, Clyde.

ME: Well, you know! Since I was in the hospital, I.....

DR: When were you in the hospital?

ME: Oh, come on, Doc!

DR: No, No! Tell me about it, Clyde!

ME: When Flush checked me in! Remember? Well, I was kidnapped by a group of Apathonians, who were actually rebel Authoritarians... Anyway, I was taken to their planet and worshipped as a god. We made war on the Greatest of Greats, but lost, I'm afraid.

DR: Go on! Go on! This is very interesting!

ME: Well, I lost my head in the atomic-egg-beater, then ended up in heaven and met God and all his heavenly hosts! He told me it wasn't my time and sent me back. So, here I am!

DR: My! It HAS been a busy week, huh?

ME: The busiest, Doc!

DR: Hmm, so how do you feel about all this?

ME: What do you mean?

DR: Clyde? Why won't you take your meds? You've been reneging on me, haven't you?

ME: Well, Doc, I quit taking them shortly before you tried to do Electro Shock Therapy on me.

DR: ELECTRO SHOCK THERAPY?!?!

ME: Yeah, but then Homer put me under anesthesia so he could put a chip on my shoulder, remember?

DR: Oh!! Yes! Yes! Say, um, Clyde, why don't we try that procedure again?

ME: Nah! I'm doing fine now, Doc!

DR: So tell me about Homer, is he one of your friends?

ME: Well, we've talked about him before, Doc.

DR: We have? Oh, we have! Yes, well I have a bad memory. Let's talk about him again.

ME: Well, he's not actually a real person, you see I made him up. We got along real well till he got out of my imagination and tried to take over the world....

DR: That must have been very scary for you.

ME: Yeah, but my likeness, Claude, assisted me in overthowing him and then I became President of the United States... I later resigned but God gave me the job back!

DR: I see...

ME: What are you writing?

DR: Does it bother you when I write?

ME: Well, I just thought you weren't listening and just doodling or something.

DR: Oh No!! I just want to remember all this for later, that's all!

ME: So