Why Sponges Are Dangerous

It all started with a sponge. 1

It was very wrong of the sponge to have started all of this, which, while totally unfair to the sponge, was nonetheless true. Fortunately, the sponge was not aware of this. Truth be told, it wasn’t aware of anything, as it was only, you see, a sponge.2

A wet sponge.3

A wet sponge I had slipped on, after a long night of washing the dishes. I might have finished earlier, but I liked to watch TV while I did it. Slipping on the sponge caused me to hit my head rather badly on the kitchen counter. I never have figured out how the sponge got on the floor in the first place, and I’ve never been able to ask, as it is, after all, only a sponge.4

Have I mentioned that?5

Now, of all the sounds you do NOT want to hear when you hit your head on the kitchen counter, a muffled cracking sound is very prominently high on the list. As soon as I realized where my head would be landing after I had slipped, my ears were strained very hard for that very sound. That sound never came, but because my ears were strained, I heard another sound I could have easily have missed. I heard giggling. From a squeaky little voice. 6

Then my vision crumbled away, with appropriate sound effects, like a lousy screen saver.7

I woke up in Heaven. I knew this, because it looked exactly how it was on TV. The only ground there was white clouds, there were people walking around in white robes, wings sticking out of their backs, haloes above their heads – and everything was really, really bright. The first thing I did was to check if I had wings, too. To my disappointment, I didn’t. Nor the halo, heck, not even the white robes. I was still in the red t-shirt in jeans I had… died… in.8

Oh, yeah, I was dead. I hadn’t thought about that, but now that I had, I considered it. Ought I be mourning myself? It seemed a tad ungrateful, considering I had been judged worthy enough to be in heaven for the rest of my existence. Then again, I wouldn’t see anybody I knew ever again… until they died, of course, so I supposed that was alright too.9

I looked around, wondering who I had to talk with in order to get my own wings and halo(the robe I could live without). I tried getting up. It is tough, trying to get into a standing position on a cloud. It keeps slipping out from under you. Finally, this nice angel with brown skin helped me get up, and I found how useful wings could be in this situation. I’m not going to tell you how though, you can figure it out when you get to heaven yourself. Unfortunately, the brown-skinned angel didn’t speak English, but he showed me the way to the Pearly Gates of Registration, right next to the one for greeting new souls, the one St.Peter guarded. I wondered why I hadn’t come through that gate.10

The stern looking angel provided me with an answer.11

“You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not even dead. In fact, you’re not even here.”12

I blinked. “What?”13

What he said and did after I had said that inspired a great determination within me. It reminded me to look forward, in confusing situations, and not to rely on people for help. In short, when he yelled “Next!” and shoved me out of the line, he made me realize that I was stuck with a rather worrying problem. I was in Heaven, and quite unwelcome there.14

The little green men were a bit nicer to me. I just wish I knew how they got into my pockets. I had put me hands in them, yelped, then pulled them out, along with the miniature green figures attached to them by their teeth.15

Once we had gotten the whole thing sorted out(I forgave them for biting me, they had just thought I was attacking them), I balanced the lot of them(there were about ten) in my hand and looked at them closely. They looked mostly like little green fat monks, with antennae growing out of their heads. They spoke as one, in squeaky, metallic voices. They liked dancing, too, and did a short jig every five minutes or so – the effect was rather ticklish.16

I asked them how long they had been in my pockets.17

“Long enough”, they answered.18

“Are you dead?” I asked them.19

“Are you?” they asked me.20

“I think I am. But they told me I wasn’t. They said I wasn’t really here.”21

“You’re not!” they screamed, and then stopped talking to do their little jig.22

While they did this, I looked down at me. I certainly seemed to be there. If I wasn’t there, where was I?23

“Underneath the kitchen sink!” the green men yelled, in response. I sighed. Of course they could read my mind. They were telepathic, after all.24

“Then – hey, I got it! I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?” That made sense to me.25

Silence greeted this question.26

“What’s wrong?” I asked, puzzled at their reaction. Then I felt a mind probe. 27

A few seconds later, as one, the little green men declared, “Aaaaaah. So THAT’S what it means.” And they all danced another jig in celebration of their understanding.28

I waited patiently for them to stop.29

“So?” I asked eagerly, when they had. “I’m hallucinating, right?”30

“No.” they intoned. “You just understand more.”31

“No, no, I’m pretty sure I’m understanding less and less every second.”32

“You are enlightened. You have… have… tall perceptions?”33

“You mean heightened perception?”34

“We have a headache now. Good bye.”35

And with that, they jumped off my palms and disappeared into the clouds.36

“Great.” I muttered. “Now what do I do?”37

YOU COULD ALWAYS MAKE A DEAL WITH DEATH.38

“Who said that?” I turned around. And froze.39

ME. DEATH.40

There he was, in all his skeletal glory. Black robe, scythe, everything.41

“Wait.” I was confused again. “I’m in Heaven. Shouldn’t there be an angel of death?”42

ER… TECHNICALLY.43

“So why are you here?”44

I… LOOK, CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?45

“I suppose”46

I’M NOT REALLY OFFICIALLY ALLOWED TO TAKE LIVES. THAT’S AN ANGEL’S JOB. I JUST STOLE ONE OF THEIR ROBES, AND I WANDER AROUND SCARING THE HELL OUT OF PEOPLE. ER, FIGURE OF SPEECH.47

Death grinned at me. Of course, he couldn’t help it, but I could’ve sworn for a second there it was a sheepish grin.48

“Well,” I said, putting an arm across his bony shoulder, “when I die, you can take my life.”49

REALLY?50

“Ah-a! So I really am still alive!” I pulled back, triumphantly.51

YES. I’M AFRAID THAT’S THE DEAL I WISH TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT. YOU SEE, THE CRACK ON THE HEAD YOU GOT ENLIGHTENED YOU, SO YOU CAN SEE THINGS ON A GREATER PLANE.52

“Ummm…”53

HOWEVER, YOU ARE NOT YET DEAD. THIS PRESENTS A PROBLEM. YOU HAVE TO BE DEAD TO ENTER HEAVEN.54

“I’m not sure I like where you’re going.”55

THE DEAL IS, YOU DIE NOW, YOU STAY IN HEAVEN. YOU DIE WHEN YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO… WELL, GETTING BACK IN HERE MIGHT NOT BE SO CERTAIN.56

The words hit me like… well, like that damn counter had. This was a very big decision. I wanted to live, but still, could I risk spending all of eternity after I eventually died in Hell? Not everyone got an easy way out like this. There was only one way I could make such a humungous choice.57

“Let’s flip a leaf.” I said.58

We borrowed one from the Garden Of Eden, which had been brought up once Adam and Eve had vacated the premises, and Death held it in the air.59

HEADS, OR TAILS?60

“Which is which?”61

THE GREENER SIDE IS HEADS.62

“Heads, then. And no cheating.”63

Death shrugged, and was about to throw the leaf up, when –64

HEY, WAITAMINNIT. WHAT DOES HEADS MEAN?65

“Oh, yeah, right. It means I stay up here in heaven, you can take my life now.”66

RIGHT.67

He tossed the leaf. It twirled, and twirled, and twirled and twirled and….68

TAILS. OH WELL, GOOD LUCK.69

And with that, he took his scythe and knocked me on the head with the stick end of it. As I started to fall unconscious, I thought how I’d probably be on a hospital bed when I got home, surrounded by the family. I had a joke planned. “Oh, I had the strangest dream. And you, and you, and you WEREN’T there. Thank god for that, eh?”70

I woke up, instead, under the kitchen sink. For the rest of my life, because of that, I listened to everything the squeaky, metallic voices told me. And I’d dance a jig whenever nobody was looking.71

Seventy years later, I lay on my deathbed, content. I had led a good life, I was certain that Heaven was waiting for me, this time with the right attire. As I drew my last breath, I saw the bony, skeletal collector come out of the floor.72

IT IS TIME, he said, grimly, playing his part perfectly. I nodded. He was about to swing his scythe, when – 73

“What are you doing here?”74

Death swung his hea – er, skull. The Angel of Death had arrived.75

“You know you’re not supposed to be doing this, Mort”, he said.76

NOT FAIR! HE PROMISED ME! Death whined, pointing a skeletal finger at me.77

The Angel stopped to consider this. “Well, I certainly can’t take him now.” He sighed. We’ll just have to reincarnate him.78

I struggled to speak. Didn’t I get a say in this?79

“No.” said the Angel, simply, and he touched my forehead.80

When I woke up next, I was green. And had antennae growing out of my head.81

I had accepted that life wasn’t fair. But it was extremely disappointing to find out that death wasn’t a lot fairer.