The Singers (standard:drama, 5905 words)
Author: burke	Added: Nov 11 2005	Views/Reads: 3452/2179	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The inmates of heaven are tired of having nothing to do except to sing. They all want some changes made.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Peter joined in the laughter. "Of course! I remember you were singing
while waiting to come in. But don't you ever wish for some quiet?" 

"Frankly, I do, but until you used the bullhorn there wasn't any way to
get everyone's attention." 

"Thank you, Mr. Caruso." Then, remembering the two men he was looking
for, Peter asked, "Are numbers one and two here?" 

People looked at one another and shook their heads. A woman asked. "Do
you know their names?" 

Consulting his wrist Peter said, "yes, Ezekiel and Nathaniel. Does
anybody know where they are?" 

"You mean Zeke and Nate?" 

"I guess so." 

"They're probably off someplace fighting." 

Horrified, Peter exclaimed. "Fighting? But that's not permitted here! Do
you know where they are?" 

She pointed over her shoulder. "Over there somewhere, I guess." 

Beckoning to Mr. Caruso, Peter asked. "Would you, while I'm gone,
organize these people into some sort of choir so that if they must sing 
at least the singing will be of some account? Frankly, the Professor is 
fed up with the noise.  I'm sure you realize that most of these people 
can't sing worth a darn!" 

.Grinning, Caruso replied, "You're quite right sir. I'll see what I can
do." 

While Peter was floating away over the crowds of people Caruso, using
the bull horn, began to ask for certain people to come forward to 
assist him in assessing which of the many voices could be used in the 
choirs. "I'm sorry I don't remember your earthly names, but I'd like 
the really good singers to come forward." 

Slowly at first the singers came forward. Caruso watched intently. "Oh,
excuse me Mr. Formby. You sang many funny songs but I'm afraid your 
voice is not the type I want. Yours neither, Miss Aspidistra.... I mean 
Miss Fields!" 

An attractive woman came out of the crowd. "Hello Mr. Caruso, I'm Kate
Smith. Can I help?" 

A surprised Caruso looked at her, "of course, Miss Smith. But I didn't
know you were here, and even if I had I would never have recognized 
you!" 

"Well, you weren't so small yourself as I recall." 

Some time later auditions were underway. Each coach had about a hundred
trillion or so voices to check out. Peter, still within hearing 
distance congratulated himself on a brilliant piece of work. There 
would be the sounds of voices but nothing as loud as before. Perhaps it 
would be many millennia before the auditions were finished! 

Eventually Peter reached the edge of the crowd and was impressed with
the silence, broken only by the sounds made by the birds and the 
animals who were, by the way, all friendly, even the reptiles. 

Moving on, Peter heard voices raised in anger. "Tut, that's not allowed
here! Must be those rowdies I'm looking for." Floating closer he saw 
two men fighting in a narrow valley beside a small stream. Staying back 
far enough so he'd not be seen, Peter watched the men fight 

"Take that!" One man said as he raised his arm, throwing something at
the other. 

"Ouch! That almost hurt. Okay, my turn." 

Still watching, Peter saw the second man go through the same motion.
"Take that!" 

Second man merely said, "you missed, my turn again. Double the bet!" 

"Oh my! Not only are they fighting, they're also wagering! That's not
allowed. What will the Professor say?" 

Watching, he saw one of the men throw something at the other, but he
couldn't see what it was. Angry with himself for being angry with the 
men, he stepped into their view. 

"Here now! You men stop whatever you're doing before someone gets hurt."
Peter strode up to them wearing the fiercest expression he could 
muster. 

The men turned in surprise, vacant expressions on their faces. In unison
they asked. "Who are you and what do you want?" 

"I'm Peter and I run this place for the Professor. You are the first
people to be admitted here and it looks like you'll be the first to be 
expelled! I demand that you tell me what you're up to, or you're gone. 
Do you understand?" 

Peter noticed that both men, although appearing to be in their forties
like everyone else, were slightly different from the others. Then he 
realized it was because they hadn't had the benefit of evolution like 
the later comers. To his thinking they were primitives who had snuck in 
under the wire. 

The man with the shorter arms answered. "Screw you Jack. We're fighting
because we want to. There's nothing else to do here except sing like 
those dummies that came later. Besides, we don't hurt each other, so 
what's it to you?" 

Peter, taken aback, replied. "But surely singing is preferable to
fighting, even pretend fighting? I would much rather you sang. If you 
can't sing I'm sure I can find somebody to teach you." 

The men looked at one another, grinning. In unison they began to sing.
"Have you ever gone into an Irishman's shanty and found your 
uncle....?" 

Interrupting, Peter shouted, "enough! That sounds like a bawdy song! Not
allowed here!" 

"Well there's always the song about Lucifer's daughter. Want to hear
it?" 

"No thank you. I think you should stop your foolishness and come with
me." 

The man with the longer arms replied. "We'll think about it." Turning to
his friend, they put their heads together for a moment, then announced, 
"After thinking it over we've decided to stay right here. Besides, we 
never asked to come here. All we were doing was walking past some 
village where funny things were happening, when zap! We were hit by 
lightning. Next we know we're in here. Nice and peaceful then, but you 
let it get really noisy, so we wandered away." 

At that moment the Professor descended from the sky beside Peter.
"They're absolutely right, Peter. It's my fault they are here. I was 
trying to clean up some villages named..uh, Sodagora, Soggylara, 
something like that. I'd just finished making some fireballs and my aim 
wasn't very good. I hit these men by mistake. Sorry! The worst thing is 
I still don't know how to fix my errors, but I'm working on it." 

Peter always liked to correct mistakes, especially those of his boss.
"Professor, it was two villages named Sodom and Gomorrah, but you 
eventually corrected your aim and got them both." 

"Peter, I thank you for that bit of information. But tell me, now that
you've found these men, what do you intend doing with them?" 

Drawing himself up to his full height and adding a few inches by
levitating, Peter declared, "Seems there is no choice but to banish 
them to the other place. They can't be permitted to go around here 
gambling and fighting." 

Professor levitated slightly higher than Peter before replying. "I'll
not do it, for several reasons. Like they say; they didn't ask to come 
here, and being borderline human it's unlikely they'd be admitted here 
when they died a natural death. They would simply have ceased to exist. 
As to their sins, as you see it, they don't bother anyone else. 
Furthermore, they have shown the good sense to get away from those 
darned singers!" 

"I must protest, Professor! They were also singing bawdy songs!" 

"You're quite right, Peter. I heard a snatch or two while trying to
catch up to you." 

Grinning, the two men watched Peter to see if he'd have the grace to
grin. He didn't so much as crinkle an eyelid. 

Folding his arms across his chest the Professor stood his ground and
stared at Peter for several moments before asking, "did you find out if 
these men know why everybody sings all the time/" 

Confused, Peter blinked and stared back. "Why, no I didn't. Completely
forgot." He turned to the men, "you heard the question?" 

Zeke provided the answer, "sure Jack, we remember all about it. You
should know too because you were there when it started." 

Getting angry, Peter replied. "My name is not Jack! It's Peter! Saint
Peter to you. Now, answer the question!" 

"Ok Jack. Just after Nate and I arrived, back in the days when it was
peaceful around here, we were watching as you admitted a bunch of new 
people. As they came in you asked their names. One man replied in a 
loud voice, Singh! Funny thing is everybody thought it was an order for 
them to start singing, and they did. When we no longer thought it was 
funny, we left. Seemed like a nice guy, but its all his fault. Ranjit 
Singh, that's his name. Right Zeke?" 

"Yepper!" 

"Peter," the Professor asked, "do you recall that?" 

"No." 

"Well no matter, we'll go back to the office and look at the records."
Turning to Nate and Zeke he said. "You come too. I have something to 
say to all the people and I want you to hear it." 

In no time it was confirmed that Ranjit Singh had indeed arrived shortly
after Nate and Zeke. Interviewed by the Professor he remembered being 
surprised when everybody started singing after they'd heard his name. 

"Peter," the Professor ordered, "assemble everyone. I have something to
tell them." 

"Greetings people. As a result of things I learned recently I've decided
to make a few changes in how things are done here." The Professor 
singled out a woman near the front of the gathering. "Young lady, are 
you bored?" 

Embarrassed, she replied, "no sir." 

The Professor asked again, "tell me honestly." 

Gathering her courage, she answered with a question. "If I'm right do I
get to go back to earth?" 

The people closest to her began to laugh. 

"No, my dear you don't. On the other hand neither do you get sent below.
You'll remain right here." 

Confident now, she stood up tall and said, "yes! I'm bored out of my
mind. I hate to sing. I want something to do that's fun!" 

A millennia later the Professor had received the same answer from
trillions of others. 

Holding up his hands for silence the professor began to speak, "seems as
though it's unanimous. That's okay, I didn't like all that singing 
either. So here's what I'm going to do: sing if you like, but only in 
an organized choir. Once each week there will be a concert of all types 
of music from classical to bawdy. Next, we go to seven days per week 
and twenty-four hours each day. For eight of those hours you will feel 
weary and will sleep, just like you used to do. Then you will feel 
hunger and will need to spend time gathering food. I will see that 
enough grows by itself: all you do is pick it up. I almost forgot! That 
young woman said she wanted some fun, so... I've restored your sex 
urge, but everybody will perform as I originally intended. I'd guess 
that some people are in for the surprise of their lives! And one more 
thing, Enjoy!" 

The crowd was silent, then the murmuring started, which became a roar.
Peter couldn't believe what had happened: he stared open mouthed and 
speechless at the professor. It was several moments before he realized 
an attractive woman was standing nearby. 

"Peter?" 

He turned to look at her. He remembered seeing her before, but now she
seemed different. Something about her attracted him to her but he 
wasn't certain what. 

"Yes?" 

Suddenly shy, she nevertheless asked, "would you come with me to gather
food?" 

Peter blinked, scratched his hairy chin, and looked her up and down. "I
can't remember the last time I looked at a woman that way! What's wrong 
with me?" 

Peter smiled, "I'd love to go with you. As a matter of fact I am
beginning to feel some hunger. Shall we go now?" 

She took his hand and led him away. 

End 

HOW THE UNIVERSE REALLY GOT STARTED 

Ethel had had her eye on Basil for some time. He wasn't much to look at
and didn't have many prospects in life, but Ethel was certain he would 
amount to something sooner or later. Unfortunately for Ethel it proved 
to be later. 

Both sets of parents went together and severed a bit of land on which
the newlywed couple could put their house. They chose a spot 
overlooking the great beyond, as everybody called it. The bit of land, 
just large enough for a septic in the rear and a well in front, left 
them with the front porch overlooking a  ... well, nothing! 

Eventually, with a baby on the way, they added a 2nd bedroom. It soon
dawned on them that the baby would have nowhere to play because of the 
small property they possessed. Basil, an inveterate tinkerer and would 
be inventor, thought he had an answer. Ethel was curious and asked him 
to explain his idea. 

Taking the cup of proffered tea. Basil started to do so. "Ethel, we're
in trouble. A few weeks ago I noticed that a few small chunks had 
fallen away from the back yard." 

"Can't you put them back?" Ethel was worried. Even less play space for
her baby. 

"No dear. I shone a light down, and there's nothing, just a large black
hole. Then I thought, why waste land by using it as a septic bed, so I 
redirected the sewer pipe into the hole." 

"But, that will pollute everything. We can't do that, Basil!" 

"I guess you're right, but, that's part of my plan, dear. With the bit
of our land down there, and our sewage too, if somehow I could mix it 
all together and make it explode, we might make new land. My only 
problem is how to do it?" 

Ethel sat back; placing her hands on her newly made hand rest, and
pondered her husband's plan. Somehow, she thought, I've got to help him 
make this work. But how? 

Without any answer coming immediately to mind, they went to bed, both to
dream about how to make Basil's idea work. 

As usual, Ethel was the first up. After her usual morning sickness she
felt better and proceeded to make the coffee. Striking a safety match 
to light the propane stove, she thought she had the answer. Over 
breakfast she explained her idea to Basil. He liked it. 

"Ethel!" Basil exclaimed. "I think you've got it! I'll work on it this
morning." 

Basil rounded up all the safety matches he could find. With Ethel
watching he threw the matches into the hole then, setting one match 
alight he dropped it towards the others. Nothing happened. Ethel got 
angry, "Basil! That's not what I meant at all! Here, let me do it." 

In the back shed Ethel found another box of matches. Carefully she broke
off the heads and put them in a paper bag. Next she waxed a length of 
grocery cord and stuck it into the bag amongst the match heads. Handing 
the small bomb to Basil she said. "Here, hold this while I light the 
fuse, then drop it into the mixture of stuff down below." 

Unfortunately all the sewage, loose earth as well as things that had
fallen off neighboring properties, had accumulated in the same 
depression near Basil and Ethel's house. Basil's plan worked just the 
way Ethel designed it. There was a bang. Not a very big bang, but big 
enough to throw their small house off the land and cause it to float 
away from the explosion. 

From the front porch, which was still attached to the remainder of the
house, they watched, fascinated at the fireworks they had created 

It wasn't long until several neighbors arrived. "Basil, did you see that
explosion? Hope nobody got hurt. You okay?" 

"Come on, Jack. You know we are immortal and can't get hurt. I'm trying
to make more land. That's why we did it. Doesn't seem to have worked, 
does it?" 

Jack, his wife and kids stood looking at the final display of fireworks
that followed the blast. "Daddy! Look at those big balls of dirt." 

"Where son?" 

"Over there! And more are forming." Son pointed. 

After looking where his son had pointed, Jack turned to Basil. "It
appears like your experiment didn't work Basil. See, it's all moving 
away. It's no good to anybody if it goes somewhere else." 

Then one of the big balls began to glow, getting brighter by the minute.
Basil smiled. Now, for the first time, everybody could see things 
clearly. Ethel faced the light. "Basil, I feel heat from that whatever 
it is. Feels good, too. When do you think we could move onto one of 
those things dear?" 

"Maybe in a few days. It looks as though they are pretty hot. We'd
better let them cool down first." A moment later he asked Ethel, "What 
should we call those things? Any ideas?" 

Ethel thought..."It's moving away from us in all directions. How about
'the Universe'?" 

"Sounds good to me. Besides, it will give our baby something to play
with when he gets old enough." 

Barclay Thompson SINGERS 10 pages, 3380 words 

"Peter, will you please do something about that singing!" 

Laying his pen aside Peter turned to his questioner. "Like what? A
different melody maybe?" 

"No! I meant make it stop! It's driving me nuts!" 

"But professor, you encourage them to sing. I agree though. It certainly
gets on one's nerves." 

The professor looked at the assembled singers, then turned to stare
angrily at Peter,  "I never encouraged them! And another thing: they're 
always here! They never go away! Make them go away!" 

Peter sighed, stretched as he stood up and consulted his computer. A
moment later he pointed to a number on the screen. "Professor, there 
are uncountable billions of people out there. The singing is so loud I 
could never make myself heard above the noise to tell them to stop." 

Looking at the numbers himself, the professor nodded in agreement.
Placing both hands over his ears he faced Peter and shouted. "Think of 
something because I'm getting a migraine from that damned noise! And 
another thing I don't understand is how this ever got started!" Then he 
wandered away over the singing crowd hoping that when they saw him 
covering his ears they might take the hint and SHUT UP! 

Taking a break from his work Peter checked his archives to refresh his
memory as to the origins of this compulsion of all arrivals to sing 
nonstop. Finally, after going back to the first page in his old 
hand-written journals he found an entry dated many millennia earlier. 
Looking in wonder at his own ancient writing he finally made out the 
names of the first arrivals. "That's funny; I don't recall those two 
guys." 

Writing the names on the back of his wrist Peter set off to find the
men. After a moment's thought he returned to his bench and dug out from 
under the table a bullhorn somebody had given him many years before. 
Switching it on, he gave it a try. "QUIET PLEASE!" It worked! 

Peter looked at the upturned faces staring at him in alarm. Some still
had their mouths open. The silence was wonderful. Then he heard the 
birds. He'd totally forgotten about them. Somebody called out; "Can we 
start singing again?" 

It took Peter several seconds to identify the questioner. "Why? Don't
you enjoy the peace and quiet?" 

The fellow looked uncomfortable. "Yes...I guess so. But we always sing,
sir." 

"Why do you sing?" Nobody answered. Peter looked from face to face. He
pointed to a woman. She was of medium height, attractive and about 
forty years of age. "Miss, why do you sing? Tell me, please?" 

She seemed embarrassed, having been selected from such a crowd of
people. "That's what we do. Everybody was doing it when I got here, so 
I thought that's all there was to do." 

Peter pointed to a young man. He was of medium height handsome and about
forty years of age. Which was not remarkable because everybody here fit 
that description. Age didn't matter: upon arrival everybody became 
fortysomething. Even babies, children and centenarians. Still pointing, 
Peter asked the man the same question. 

"Well sir, I sing because I want to." 

"I should know you!" Peter said. "What's your name?" 

The man smiled, "Caruso!" 

Peter joined in the laughter. "Of course! I remember you were singing
while waiting to come in. But don't you ever wish for some quiet?" 

"Frankly, I do, but until you used the bullhorn there wasn't any way to
get everyone's attention." 

"Thank you, Mr. Caruso." Then, remembering the two men he was looking
for, Peter asked, "Are numbers one and two here?" 

People looked at one another and shook their heads. A woman asked. "Do
you know their names?" 

Consulting his wrist Peter said, "yes, Ezekiel and Nathaniel. Does
anybody know where they are?" 

"You mean Zeke and Nate?" 

"I guess so." 

"They're probably off someplace fighting." 

Horrified, Peter exclaimed. "Fighting? But that's not permitted here! Do
you know where they are?" 

She pointed over her shoulder. "Over there somewhere, I guess." 

Beckoning to Mr. Caruso, Peter asked. "Would you, while I'm gone,
organize these people into some sort of choir so that if they must sing 
at least the singing will be of some account? Frankly, the Professor is 
fed up with the noise.  I'm sure you realize that most of these people 
can't sing worth a darn!" 

.Grinning, Caruso replied, "You're quite right sir. I'll see what I can
do." 

While Peter was floating away over the crowds of people Caruso, using
the bull horn, began to ask for certain people to come forward to 
assist him in assessing which of the many voices could be used in the 
choirs. "I'm sorry I don't remember your earthly names, but I'd like 
the really good singers to come forward." 

Slowly at first the singers came forward. Caruso watched intently. "Oh,
excuse me Mr. Formby. You sang many funny songs but I'm afraid your 
voice is not the type I want. Yours neither, Miss Aspidistra.... I mean 
Miss Fields!" 

An attractive woman came out of the crowd. "Hello Mr. Caruso, I'm Kate
Smith. Can I help?" 

A surprised Caruso looked at her, "of course, Miss Smith. But I didn't
know you were here, and even if I had I would never have recognized 
you!" 

"Well, you weren't so small yourself as I recall." 

Some time later auditions were underway. Each coach had about a hundred
trillion or so voices to check out. Peter, still within hearing 
distance congratulated himself on a brilliant piece of work. There 
would be the sounds of voices but nothing as loud as before. Perhaps it 
would be many millennia before the auditions were finished! 

Eventually Peter reached the edge of the crowd and was impressed with
the silence, broken only by the sounds made by the birds and the 
animals who were, by the way, all friendly, even the reptiles. 

Moving on, Peter heard voices raised in anger. "Tut, that's not allowed
here! Must be those rowdies I'm looking for." Floating closer he saw 
two men fighting in a narrow valley beside a small stream. Staying back 
far enough so he'd not be seen, Peter watched the men fight 

"Take that!" One man said as he raised his arm, throwing something at
the other. 

"Ouch! That almost hurt. Okay, my turn." 

Still watching, Peter saw the second man go through the same motion.
"Take that!" 

Second man merely said, "you missed, my turn again. Double the bet!" 

"Oh my! Not only are they fighting, they're also wagering! That's not
allowed. What will the Professor say?" 

Watching, he saw one of the men throw something at the other, but he
couldn't see what it was. Angry with himself for being angry with the 
men, he stepped into their view. 

"Here now! You men stop whatever you're doing before someone gets hurt."
Peter strode up to them wearing the fiercest expression he could 
muster. 

The men turned in surprise, vacant expressions on their faces. In unison
they asked. "Who are you and what do you want?" 

"I'm Peter and I run this place for the Professor. You are the first
people to be admitted here and it looks like you'll be the first to be 
expelled! I demand that you tell me what you're up to, or you're gone. 
Do you understand?" 

Peter noticed that both men, although appearing to be in their forties
like everyone else, were slightly different from the others. Then he 
realized it was because they hadn't had the benefit of evolution like 
the later comers. To his thinking they were primitives who had snuck in 
under the wire. 

The man with the shorter arms answered. "Screw you Jack. We're fighting
because we want to. There's nothing else to do here except sing like 
those dummies that came later. Besides, we don't hurt each other, so 
what's it to you?" 

Peter, taken aback, replied. "But surely singing is preferable to
fighting, even pretend fighting? I would much rather you sang. If you 
can't sing I'm sure I can find somebody to teach you." 

The men looked at one another, grinning. In unison they began to sing.
"Have you ever gone into an Irishman's shanty and found your 
uncle....?" 

Interrupting, Peter shouted, "enough! That sounds like a bawdy song! Not
allowed here!" 

"Well there's always the song about Lucifer's daughter. Want to hear
it?" 

"No thank you. I think you should stop your foolishness and come with
me." 

The man with the longer arms replied. "We'll think about it." Turning to
his friend, they put their heads together for a moment, then announced, 
"After thinking it over we've decided to stay right here. Besides, we 
never asked to come here. All we were doing was walking past some 
village where funny things were happening, when zap! We were hit by 
lightning. Next we know we're in here. Nice and peaceful then, but you 
let it get really noisy, so we wandered away." 

At that moment the Professor descended from the sky beside Peter.
"They're absolutely right, Peter. It's my fault they are here. I was 
trying to clean up some villages named..uh, Sodagora, Soggylara, 
something like that. I'd just finished making some fireballs and my aim 
wasn't very good. I hit these men by mistake. Sorry! The worst thing is 
I still don't know how to fix my errors, but I'm working on it." 

Peter always liked to correct mistakes, especially those of his boss.
"Professor, it was two villages named Sodom and Gomorrah, but you 
eventually corrected your aim and got them both." 

"Peter, I thank you for that bit of information. But tell me, now that
you've found these men, what do you intend doing with them?" 

Drawing himself up to his full height and adding a few inches by
levitating, Peter declared, "Seems there is no choice but to banish 
them to the other place. They can't be permitted to go around here 
gambling and fighting." 

Professor levitated slightly higher than Peter before replying. "I'll
not do it, for several reasons. Like they say; they didn't ask to come 
here, and being borderline human it's unlikely they'd be admitted here 
when they died a natural death. They would simply have ceased to exist. 
As to their sins, as you see it, they don't bother anyone else. 
Furthermore, they have shown the good sense to get away from those 
darned singers!" 

"I must protest, Professor! They were also singing bawdy songs!" 

"You're quite right, Peter. I heard a snatch or two while trying to
catch up to you." 

Grinning, the two men watched Peter to see if he'd have the grace to
grin. He didn't so much as crinkle an eyelid. 

Folding his arms across his chest the Professor stood his ground and
stared at Peter for several moments before asking, "did you find out if 
these men know why everybody sings all the time/" 

Confused, Peter blinked and stared back. "Why, no I didn't. Completely
forgot." He turned to the men, "you heard the question?" 

Zeke provided the answer, "sure Jack, we remember all about it. You
should know too because you were there when it started." 

Getting angry, Peter replied. "My name is not Jack! It's Peter! Saint
Peter to you. Now, answer the question!" 

"Ok Jack. Just after Nate and I arrived, back in the days when it was
peaceful around here, we were watching as you admitted a bunch of new 
people. As they came in you asked their names. One man replied in a 
loud voice, Singh! Funny thing is everybody thought it was an order for 
them to start singing, and they did. When we no longer thought it was 
funny, we left. Seemed like a nice guy, but its all his fault. Ranjit 
Singh, that's his name. Right Zeke?" 

"Yepper!" 

"Peter," the Professor asked, "do you recall that?" 

"No." 

"Well no matter, we'll go back to the office and look at the records."
Turning to Nate and Zeke he said. "You come too. I have something to 
say to all the people and I want you to hear it." 

In no time it was confirmed that Ranjit Singh had indeed arrived shortly
after Nate and Zeke. Interviewed by the Professor he remembered being 
surprised when everybody started singing after they'd heard his name. 

"Peter," the Professor ordered, "assemble everyone. I have something to
tell them." 

"Greetings people. As a result of things I learned recently I've decided
to make a few changes in how things are done here." The Professor 
singled out a woman near the front of the gathering. "Young lady, are 
you bored?" 

Embarrassed, she replied, "no sir." 

The Professor asked again, "tell me honestly." 

Gathering her courage, she answered with a question. "If I'm right do I
get to go back to earth?" 

The people closest to her began to laugh. 

"No, my dear you don't. On the other hand neither do you get sent below.
You'll remain right here." 

Confident now, she stood up tall and said, "yes! I'm bored out of my
mind. I hate to sing. I want something to do that's fun!" 

A millennia later the Professor had received the same answer from
trillions of others. 

Holding up his hands for silence the professor began to speak, "seems as
though it's unanimous. That's okay, I didn't like all that singing 
either. So here's what I'm going to do: sing if you like, but only in 
an organized choir. Once each week there will be a concert of all types 
of music from classical to bawdy. Next, we go to seven days per week 
and twenty-four hours each day. For eight of those hours you will feel 
weary and will sleep, just like you used to do. Then you will feel 
hunger and will need to spend time gathering food. I will see that 
enough grows by itself: all you do is pick it up. I almost forgot! That 
young woman said she wanted some fun, so... I've restored your sex 
urge, but everybody will perform as I originally intended. I'd guess 
that some people are in for the surprise of their lives! And one more 
thing, Enjoy!" 

The crowd was silent, then the murmuring started, which became a roar.
Peter couldn't believe what had happened: he stared open mouthed and 
speechless at the professor. It was several moments before he realized 
an attractive woman was standing nearby. 

"Peter?" 

He turned to look at her. He remembered seeing her before, but now she
seemed different. Something about her attracted him to her but he 
wasn't certain what. 

"Yes?" 

Suddenly shy, she nevertheless asked, "would you come with me to gather
food?" 

Peter blinked, scratched his hairy chin, and looked her up and down. "I
can't remember the last time I looked at a woman that way! What's wrong 
with me?" 

Peter smiled, "I'd love to go with you. As a matter of fact I am
beginning to feel some hunger. Shall we go now?" 

She took his hand and led him away. 

End 

16 


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