Next
by Michael A. Kechula
“You’re
next, Charlie,” said the Angel of Death to
the chubby guy at the head of the line.
When AOD
lowered the rope barrier, Charlie ran at full
speed toward the railing of the Golden Gate
Bridge. Climbing over, he yelled “Geronimo,”
and jumped.
Applause broke
out in the line.
“It’s
your turn, Marcia,” AOD said, tapping her
shoulder.
Marcia skated
toward the railing, and managed to leap right
over it on her first try. “Life stinks!”
she yelled on the way down.
The folks in
line applauded even louder.
“Hey,
Boss,” said AOD’s assistant. “Look
up there. Somebody’s standing on top of the
bridge.”
AOD peered
through his binoculars. “By golly, you’re
right. Never fails. Some idiot always manages to
screw things up.”
“Hey you,
on top of the bridge,” AOD yelled through a
bullhorn. “What the hell do you think you’re
doing?”
“Jumping,”
the guy yelled back.
“Hold on
a minute. What’s your name?”
“Frank
Higenlooper.”
AOD checked
his daily planner. “You can’t jump. You’re
on tomorrow’s list.”
“Does it
matter?” Frank hollered.
“Yep.
Affects the entire cosmos. Climb down. Come
back tomorrow. Bring beer. I’ll bring pizza.
We’ll party first.”
“But I
can’t stand another day of my wife’s
constant bitching.”
“Then don’t
go home. Check into a hotel. Go out and have a
great dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf. Find
yourself a nice streetwalker. What the hell—it’s
your last full day on this planet. Might as well
live it up big time.”
“I don’t
know if I can get down by myself. I feel dizzy.”
Frank said.
“Hold on.
I’ll call the rescue squad,” AOD said,
grabbing his cell phone.
While waiting
for rescuers to arrive, AOD let three more people
in line rush to the bridge’s railing and
leap over. When he heard them hit the water, he
put a checkmark next to their names in his daily
planner.”
“How you
doing up there?” asked AOD.
“I been
thinking things over,” Frank replied. “Even
if I go to a hotel, she’ll find me. You have
no idea to what lengths she’ll go to nag me.
And if I have an expensive meal on the Wharf, she’ll
carry on like a lunatic. It’ll be a thousand
times worse if I bed down with a streetwalker. I
think I’m just gonna jump and be done with
it.”
“Don’t
do it! You’ll botch up the entire
cosmos!”
A cab arrived.
Frank’s wife jumped out and started yelling. “What
the hell are you doing up there? You better
come down and get home real fast. The lawn
needs mowing. You forgot to wash the car.
And you have to take the dog to the vet. After
that you hafta pick up my mother from the airport.
So get moving, or I’ll climb up there and
kick your ass!”
Frank yelled
something exceedingly obscene, then dived off the
bridge into San Francisco Bay.
The entire
cosmos collapsed into nothingness.
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