The Vultures of Little Bighorn
By Nicholas Anthony Hart
A large banner is displayed across the stage that says “Welcome Back Little Bighorns!” A boy with one arm missing drags a full body bag onstage. He addresses the audience.
Hey everybody! Welcome to the Little Bighorn Family Reunion! I’m so glad everybody could make it! I haven’t seen you guys in years even. Now I know I’m not supposed to be here. And we all know why. I have my regrets. It was a terrible mess I made and we certainly all miss little Petey. God bless his little soul. But- now just listen… I just thought Momma would want to be here and see the family one last time. We can’t deny her that. I know she sure wants to see her kin. I know I do. So I thought I’d stop by.
He looks down at her. Opens up the body bag. Pulls out a bag of cereal. Eats large handfuls.
Who’s hungry? You want some flakes of corn? Have some flakes of corn. Every body eat the corn.
The boy pours cereal into audience members hand. Then all of it in audience members lap. Then throws it into the audience.
You guys share now.
Oh boy. I sure got a pretty family.
Yeah. Something’s sure missing since last time we met. Yeah. I lost my arm. Because of Diabetes. Diabetes isn’t funny you guys. You guys will laugh at anything. But yeah, Diabetes. And alligators. And the war. The war of alligators. I’m just kidding I’ve got an arm! I just like to pretend I don’t got an arm! I’m just kidding I don’t really have an arm. It got missing.
So… you guys…We’re all here. What do you want to do? You want to play charades? What do you want to do now? Tradition calls for the family readings of the family history. We can’t break tradition. I got the book right here. Now who wants to read?
Now its time for family history guys. Who wants to read? I don’t play games. I’m being serious. You. You read now.
Written down in a book. An audience member is forced to read aloud the following:
Ever since 1992, every year the Little Bighorn family gathers around in a big reunion in Little Bighorn County, Montana. All the cousins, nieces, nephews, all the in-laws, the grandparents, the great-grandparents and the great grand children, all the favorites, and all the black sheep.
Then via a family raffle one family member is picked, every year, who dresses as General George Armstrong Custer. The rest of the family dresses up as the Lakota Cheyene Tribe. Then the annual re-enactment battle begins. And the poor General is hunted down like a fox. He is killed and promptly scalped. And then the rest of the family has lunch. The old people play pinochle.
This tradition will continue for years. Decades later. Centuries even. Until only one Little Bighorn is left.
And the last Little Bighorn will raffle themselves as General Custer. And they will hunt themselves down. And when they find themselves, that person will stab themselves in the chest thirty seven times. And scalp themselves. And the Little Bighorns will be no more.
Boy promptly takes the book away. Resumes talking to the audience.
Wowee Kazowie! Tradition! What a storied and self destructive history! So we all have that to look forward to later. Here everybody: Here’s your scalping knives. Everybody write your name down for the raffle and put in the little hat and we’ll have the raffle at the end of the day. Oh boy! Who’s it gonna be this year? Who’s it gonna be? I hope it’s you! I’m just kidding. But it could be you that we hunt down and kill today so you just be aware. Nobody ever thinks its gonna be them. But it always is. Just ask Mama…
Now that business is out of the way, what now? We gotta play. Let’s play. We haven’t seen each other in forever ever. Time for family fun. This is family time. It’s just us.
So… you guys…what do you want to do? You want to play a game? You want to play charades? You want to put together a puzzle? Yeah yeah yeah let’s do a puzzle. Oooh. A 1000 pieces. A 1000 pieces of puzzle.
Boy rummages through the body bag and pull out a puzzle. Empties all the pieces on the ground and picks up one. Show it to audience.
Okay now where does this piece go? Where do you think it goes? Make an educated guess. We’ll say it just goes there. Okay now where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? Come on people we got like 900 billion more pieces to go… And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? And where does this piece go? Yeah, this puzzle is coming along. Wait a minute. These two pieces don’t fit together at all. How in the heck am I supposed to put together a 1000 pieces?
Scatters puzzle pieces all over.
You guys are bad bad bad at playtime.
Lets have a chat. We haven’t talked in forever. Let’s talk about our interests.
I like mashed potatoes, spaghetti, batman, sleeping under the covers, and setting homeless people on fire. Gummi bears is good too. I like Gummi bears. What do you like? Quit sitting there all quiet like, just staring at me, like I’m not even talking to you. You’ve been doing that all day. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you people, like you’re all just a bunch of strangers in a room. I’m gonna blow this place up just like the Burger King. You guys will laugh at anything.
What are your interests? What are things you like? Nothing? Okay.
What do you guys believe in?
The most important thing I believe in is funnyness. Yeah funnyness. I believe in being real funny. Life is sad when you can’t laugh at it, right? Like my daddy or brother which ever one you want to call him by, he likes to make jokes all the time. He ain’t never sad. He always got the best jokes. Like when my brother-daddy, he likes to bust open the door when I take my bath. He laughs at me when he sees me naked, and then he shoots me with he bebe gun. And he just laughs and laughs some more. He’s always joking. I still got them pellets in my inner thigh if you want to see them. I don’t ever get the joke when he does it but I always laughs laugh about it later. I got my own jokes too. I like to catch cats and then pour orange juice down their buttholes. Smash their peepees with a hammer. It’s the funniest thing ever. It’s real funny. Watch it go meow meow. You just gotta laugh at life you know. And boy have I learned to laugh. You guys will laugh at anything.
You know its my birthday. Yep. Yep. Yep. It’s my birthday. Where are my presents? I’m just kidding its not really my birthday. I’m just kidding it really is my birthday. I know you didn’t get me anything. None of you. Nobody ever does. It’s okay. You’re only my family. Well, someone got me a present once.
When I was eight years old, Momma bought me a whopper Jr. and a diet coke and she said, “Happy Birthday! You’re a man now you big dumb mongoloid.” And then she said “Bye bye. I love you.” And now I live in the Burger King and eat all the ketchup packets I want. Which is a lot better than where my sister lives. She lives in the timeout box. She was misbehavingreal bad because she wouldn’t stop talking so much. You want to know what she would talk about? She would talk about boys and school and dresses and cartoons and dinnerware and princesses and the toxicity of crayons and orange juice and boy pee pees and girl pee pees and the digestive system in giraffes and john cage and the Nimzo-Indian defense and virulent strains of Ebola and democratic republics and lighter fluid and creamed corn. She loved to talk about creamed corn. And then one day Momma said “I sure am tired of this talking young lady now get in the timeout box.” And she had to have a timeout time in the timeout box. The timeout box is really the oven, we just like to call the timeout box and she stayed in there and then Momma forgot, so she turned the timeout box on because she was baking a meatloaf casserole and the casserole turned out okay. but my sister did not turn out okay. It was urgg. Liquids everywhere all over the oven. A surprising amount of liquids. No one wanted to clean her up in there so everyone just decided she lived there from now on. But the casserole tasted okay. It was a real quiet casserole. And boy do I love ketchup packets. You guys will laugh at anything.
There’s only two things you can do when you’re only eight years old and you live in a Burger King- #1 Build toys out of meat and #2 make fun of fat people. Are you a builder? Or do you make fun of fat people? Do you guys have meat toys? I lost my virginity to a picnic table. What was your first time? Who was it? Did it hurt? Did you like it? It’s okay. Everybody’s got needs.
Why won’t you guys talk to me? Huh? Do you not like me? Do you hate me? Why are you even here?
Is everybody still mad upset about Little Petey? It was an accident. Just leave it alone. Gosh walk it off already. He was being bad. He wasn’t even real. He was adopted. It was like this, this is what happened. This will be a re-creation. A re-enactment. This family sure does love re-enactments.
Boy pulls a pinata out of the body bag.
This will be Little Petey.
He also pulls out a bat from body bag. He talks to piñata.
Leave me alone Little Petey. I said leave me alone. I hate Little Petey. I hate you! You’re mean! I said you’re mean! Those are bad words! You can’t use bad words! They are too bad words! Shut up in your mouth Little Petey! I’m gonna bust you Little Petey! You make me so mad!
You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.
Yes I did!
Boy beats pinata to death. Ketchup packets fall out.
And that’s what happened to Little Petey. He was adopted. He. Was.
Look at Little Petey. Wasn’t that fun? Wasn’t that fun fun funny? I love watching that. Yeah? Come on you love it! And that’s just what happened. So we can all move on now. I sure do love re-creations though.
Do you guys have any family secrets to share with the family or me?
Do you guys want to play checkers or charades? Or pinochle? Or bingo? Or tag? Or hockey? Or anything? Or have a nice picnic lunch like a family? That’s what I’ve always wanted.
No one? No one wants to play? Fine. Fine. Fine.
All I want to do is play. But no. no. no. Everybody’s mean.
Assholes! Everybody’s assholes! Family of assholes!
You don’t even like me. Won’t talk. You think I’m weird. And stupid. And you love it. You just sit there and watch me. Like I ain’t even a person.
I’m not a bad person. But if I am… . We’re all bad people together. we’re a family god dammit.
Enough of this playing around. Its time for violence. Business and tradition. Everybody get your scalping knives ready. Everybody go “ohohohohoh!” like Indians! EVERYBODY DO IT! Why do we do it? Because its fun. We gotta watch something, right? Any last calls for charades? Didn’t think so. Don’t act like you’re not part of the family anymore. I know everyone in this room. Who’s it gonna be? Who’s it gonna be?
Boy collects the hat for the family raffle and pulls out a name.
We’ll I’ll be a son of a gun. Guess who it is? It’s you! I knew I’d be you!
I’m just kidding. Its not you. You can sit down. Its me.
God dammit. You never think it gonna be you.
Aunt Belinda you can have all of my meat toys. Uncle George you can have the body of my dead rotting mother to replace your dead rotting son in the ground. Little
Petey. I kind of miss that little guy. And Cousin Steve you don’t even get anything.
Grandma was the only person that ever done talked to me. Or played with me at all. I miss grandma. But she got taken away by the Vulture boy. Its too bad she couldn’t be here. She would have played.
Once upon a time…
There was a bad boy. He was a bad bad little baby. And he got left on the side of the freeway next to the Kentucky-Louisana State Border right by the Alamo because Grandpa just couldn’t take it no more he was so bad. It wasn’t the real Alamo mind you, but a miniature recreation of the Alamo. A tiny Alamo. That’s where he was left. And the bad little boy was raised by vultures. Years later Grandpa was sick he was on his deathbed. He was laying down hacking and coughing, the whole family was around him praying for him. Then a giant six foot tall eight hundred pound vulture bursts through the wall of the living room, snatched up poor grandpa in his claws and flew off into the sunset with grandpa hacking and screaming all the way. A little boy was on top of that vulture carrying grandpa and he was screaming, “Remember the Alamo! Remember that Tiny Alamo!” He comes by every year now. First it was Grandpa. Then Grandma. Then cousin Bill. Pretty soon he’ll be coming for you. I bet everyone remembers the Alamo now.
The vultures and the Vulture boy stare at people until they’re about to die. Just like you. Staring staring. Then the vultures snatch them up dead. You know. Just like you. Staring. Staring. Snatch.
I wish I could be brave like the Vulture Boy and take all of you down with me. One day…
The boy crawls into the body bad and starts to zip it up.
Move over and make some room, momma, I’m comin in.
It’s my turn today. But yours will come up soon enough. You’ll see. And right before the Vulture boy comes I’m sure you’ll want to spend some time with your family too whether they want to or not. Just remember Vultures will eat dying vultures.
A Vulture Boy walks onstage and stares at audience.
I just wanted you to like me. I guess families are like that. We could still play charades. No? I just wanted to play charades with my family. I don’t know how to play charades.
The Vulture Boy drags the body bag with the boy in it offstage. Lights out!
Kevorkian Love Affair With The Infinite
By Nicholas Hart
Enters wrapped in Christmas lights with a large knife, cigarette, and a pan. On stage is small table with Desk lamp. Turns it on. Throughout the entire play he slowly prepares and cooks a meatloaf.
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello everyone. And welcome to the Nuclear Inferno Hell Baking Show with me, Betelgeuse. Alpha Orionis, a super red giant star of the Orion Constellation. What are we cooking today? Today is meatloaf surprise day. First step is you get the meat, between ten and ten thousand pounds of sweet all American grade A ground beef. And my meat is… never mind. The meat is absent. Today I forgot the meat. Pretty integral step we’re missing. Well… well… that’s been cooking with Betelgeuse, red giant of Orion. Good night folks. I need a cigarette. (Looks at pocket watch) Good night. Good nights. (Puts gun to his mouth.Turns out light.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Welcome back to the “Is That Fire and Brimstone or Just My Oven?” Cooking Show with me Betelgeuse, failing bloated red ball of flaming bitter gas. What will we be cooking today? The same thing we’ve been cooking everyday for the past ten million years. Yes. Surprise. Its meat loaf surprise. The main ingredient: surprised meats. Please let us gather our ingredients from this simple list and we can get started:
ten to ten thousand pounds of grade A surprised ground beef
some bread crumbs
ten trillion individual grains of salt
a big bottle of ketchup
a dash of pepper
three million gallons of milk
a black hole
the severed head of a porcupine
And wouldn’t you know it, the pilot light is out on the oven. Does anyone have a lighter? Or the severed head of a porcupine? I left mine a few miles back…How did I get here? I never thought in all my days I would be here, begging the universe for light and severed mammalian skulls. If only my mother could see this… oh God. Well that’s all the time we have. How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. (Looks at pocket watch.) Good night. Good nights. (Puts his head in oven. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Welcome to The Greatest Depression Cooking Show with me Betelgeuse, dying giant star. Today we will be cooking meatloaf surprise. But first in order to cook a mean meatloaf, one must become intimate with their meats. The history of the meatloaf surprise begins: Molded amalgamated meat products have been around for centuries. But if wasn’t until a late nineteenth century recipe in an American cook book does the American meat loaf begin to appear. The recipe in question instructs the cook to press her ground meats into an animal shape mold and decorate it with pieces of bacon to achieve the desired affect. The is recipe is entitled: “Meat Porcupine.” The American comfort food is born. A century goes by as millions of families crowd around their meat porcupine, tearing it apart limb by limb. The meat porcupine is doomed from the moment he is conceived in the back of the mind of a desperate chef. Meat porcupine coalesces over time, burns away slowly in that oven and is ripped apart by his very makers and is forgotten in a blink of an eye in a forgettable timeline in an expanse of meat loafs for supper. Secret Key Ingredient: Love. Well that’s all the time we have. Thank you for watching the Greatest Depression Cooking Show with me Betelgeuse. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? Good night. Good nights. (Puts a noose around his neck. Stands on a chair. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello friends. And welcome to the “Why God?! Why?” Cooking Show. You may be asking yourself on the anniversary of our three billionth episode as we fail to make our three billionth meatloaf: Why Meatloaf? The answer lies in pure elementary physics. The laws of quantum physics and relativity dictate that I attempt to create a meatloaf everyday for ten million years before dying sad and alone. Why not cupcakes you ask? The answer is …. The mysteries of the universe continue. It’s quite a cold, cruel, absurd little place out here in the Orion Constellation. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Good night. Good nights. (Pours gasoline all over himself. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome to The Late Late Late Night Cooking Show with me your host Betelgeuse, old man star. Today we are making meatloaf surprise. In order to make a mean meatloaf, one must love their loaf. Caress and pet it lovingly, share your feelings with your meatloaf. How do you feel about your meatloaf? After living ten million years, can you imagine a greater hell, alone floating in the dark for ten million years… cooking meatloaf over and over and over and over again. Out here in the vast empty vacuum of the Orion Constellation are an infinite number of stars attempting to make an infinite number of meatloaves and failing an infinite number of times. If you could only make it out here, if only you could make the trip, you could smell their burning failure and hear their echoing screams of infinite protests. Makes it so hard to sleep out here. I haven’t slept in… It’s hard to sleep out here. You don’t want to fall asleep and burn anything. No sleep. No dreams. No dreaming. We are all trying so hard! Can you imagine… a greater hell? …I guess that’s how I feel about my meatloaf. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I’m going around in circles. Good night. Good nights. (Swallows an abundance of pills. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome to the “Stale Meats Cooking Show” with me Betelgeuse. As we wait for our meatloaf to burn away in the oven, let us pass the time with a simple game of chess. Do you know how to play? Its very difficult. Complicated. When my meatloaf grows up I will teach him to play. Think of the possibilities! There are more possible games of chess than there are the number of atoms in the universe. THERE ARE MORE POSSIBLE GAMES OF CHESS THAN THERE ARE THE NUMBER OF ATOMS IN THE UNIVERSE. Did you know? There is more variety in a board game that children play than there is in all of creation. Think of the possibilities. What is that even supposed to mean? I mean whats the god damn point? Is god lazy? What I’m trying to say is, its your move. Your meats are burning and I am waiting. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I”m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? Good night. Good nights. (Cuts wrists with knife. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome back to “The History of Amalgamated Meats Cooking Show” with me, Betalgeuse your burning historian. In the beginning there was only darkness and a single point of infinite density. And then out of the darkness there was a Big Bang. It was a sneeze or fart or maybe both made by a massive sentient being. And that sneeze fart gave birth to the observable universe as we know it. And I was that giant sentient being that was me. It was me, Betalgeuse who sneeze farts entire worlds of creation. I started it all. I am your God and Lord. Betalgeuse brought you into the universe and Betalgeuse can take you out. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I”m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? I’m going on a trip…Good night. Good nights. (Places plastic bag over his head. Ties it there. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome to the “Holy Gospel Cooking Show” with me your preacher Betalgeuse. In the days of ancient Egypt,(Egypt! Where the game of kings was invented! Did they play with their god?) the common house cat was given as redeemable sacrifice to the sun god Ra as it was believed that cats could hold the power of the sun in their eyes. I am Ra. And demand sacrifice. Soak the porcupine in cold water for an hour. Lay him on his back. Cut through the Porky’s mid stomach. Then grasp the two sides of the incision, one side in each hand. Pull in separate directions. Then grind him into meat dust. Mold the meat dust into any desired shape on a flat pan. A loaf perhaps. Or maybe even a tasty porcupine memorial? Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I”m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? I’m going on a trip…trip…Martha Stewart I understand you. Good night. Good nights. (Performs seppuku. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Welcome back to the Check Your Meats Cooking Show with me, Betelgeuse. It is impossible to log and record all of the possible games of chess in the world. Not possible, unable to happen. Their aren’t enough atoms in the universe to record them all. Don’t you see? It certainly is cold cruel absurd little place in the Orion Constellation. This makes every game special and original like snowflakes or fingerprints,or the smoke trails of a cigarette, every game you play has never been played ever, ever before. Hows that meatloaf coming along? Any minute now… Check it, check it, check it. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I’m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? I’m going on a trip…trip…trip…Martha Stewart I understand you. Its almost time… Good night. Good nights. (Performs seppuku. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome back to “The History of Amalgamated Meats Cooking Show” with me, Betalgeuse, your burnt historian. In the beginning there was only darkness and then out of the darkness there was a Big Bang. It was a sneeze or a fart or maybe both made by a massive sentient being. And I was that massive sentient being. That was me. That is a lie. A fabrication. I did not sneeze fart you into creation. I was not that massive sentient being. But I was there when it happened. That is also a lie. A fabrication. But my mother was there. And she told me all about it. I remember when I was a child, just a swirling disk of hot dust, I remember asking my mother, “What does it all mean? Why are we here? What are we doing? Really? Why loaves of meat? Why not cupcakes?” And the nebula cloud that was my mother, that sweet pillar of creation, she said to me, she said… she said nothing. She said absolutely nothing. She was just a floating cloud of hydrogen, she didn’t have a mouth. I had to raise myself.
I’m sorry I lied to you earlier. I wanted you to remember me. I am not a meat porcupine. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I’m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? I’m going on a trip…trip…trip…Martha Stewart I understand you. Its almost time… Its your move. Good night. Good nights. (Injects himself with needle. Turns out lamp.)
(Turns on Lamp.) Hello and welcome to the “Broiled Alone Cooking Show” with me Betelgeuse. We are separated by six hundred and forty light years of empty dead vast space and a couple of space rocks. By the time you even hear the sound of these words that I am saying I will already be deceased. By the time I have finished this measly sentence a million years will have passed. Isn’t that funny. From me to you… is a billion billion miles. And yet it seems that I could just get up and shake your hand. The illusion of space time I guess. The heavens are a preposterous place… You are talking to a ghost of time. Makes it hard for to play a turn based board game huh? What does it mean? What is it all worth? I sit here alone floating in darkness for a ten million years until I am too tired to go on stuttering, blinking away… there’s just so much… so much out there… and I can’t reach. I can see it. I can see it all! All of it! If could just reach you… God dammit I can see it. I am going to kill all of you in a shower of radiating neutrinos in a type II supernova. Well that’s all the time we have. (Looks at pocket watch.) How did I get here? I need a cigarette. I have a cigarette. Does anyone have a light? I am a light. One big light. Sometimes I can’t help but feel I’m going around in circles. Is it getting cold in here or what? I’m going on a trip…trip…trip…Martha Stewart I understand you. Its almost time… Its your move. Cooking is a lonely business. Good night. Good nights. (Straps dynamites to chest. Turns out lamp).
(Turns on Lamp.) Welcome back to the “ Hello and Welcome to the This Is So Good My Insides Will Explode At The Speed Of Light Cooking Show. ” with me future somnambulists, Betelgeuse. It’s almost time. Today we are going to make a meatloaf of infinite density. A meatloaf so heavy it punctures a hole in space time. A raging wet orifice of the cosmos .And that hole will go forever deep into infinity. Nothing shall escape the evil meatloaf hole. Not sound, not light, not hope. The screams and whimpers of all those falling into meatloaf hole shall echo forever deep into infinity. And it will be so… so… delicious. Secret ingredient: A ten million year long game of attrition. In the history of the universe no one has ever played the exact same game of chess. Further more they never ever will.What happens between me and you will never happen again. Our small game of chess will coalesces over time, burn away slowly in your mind, and is forgotten in a blink of an eye in a forgettable timeline in an expanse of chess games for supper. Secret Key Ingredient: Love. And a slow drawn out game of attrition. Don’t be afraid to make a move. Even a porcupine could do it. Will you be my porcupine?
Its almost time. I’m going on a trip…trip…trip… tryptophan…Our infinitely dense meatloaf will have enough tryptophan to knock me out to kingdom come. I haven’t slept in ten million years. here’s hoping to a… good night. Good nights.
Its almost time. I don’t even know how to play the game of chess… Mother never taught me. There’s no one to play with out here. Can anyone even hear me? Its just me and the void now. I am the single point of infinity in a zero dimensional universe. I am my own massive sentient being. Am I? How sad…sad… sad… sad meat porcupine. Where do bad meat porcupines go when they die? Do they go to Orion?
Its almost time. Was it worth it? What does it mean? I don’t know. I leave a legacy of a realm of three billion failures I did. Three billion bad and sad meat porcupines. Will you remember me? Its been a pleasure. This will be the last airing of Cooking with Betalgeuse. I’ll see you on the other side… until next time… Good night earth. Good nights.
"Finished. Its finished. Nearly finished it must be nearly finished grain upon grain one by one and one day suddenly there’s a heap. A little heap. An impossible heap. We’re not beginning to mean something?"
I am going to kill all of you in a shower of radiating neutrinos in a type II supernova. I’ve been trying to stop it. Sorry. Wait. Its done, I finished the Surprise! I made cupcakes! Surprise! Did you move?! (An egg-timer rings. He explodes in a type II supernova. The End)