The Java-Chip
My bethren and I are sitting at the starbucks near hard rock, and this beaner walks in. first thought goes like this: "LET'S SMOKE HIM" ("yeah, with our 'hand' guns!")
Suddenly, we realise something, he stutters, tries to say his first word of enlightenment. the stutter of a frappucino. and we realise, he is repentant.
We look at each other and reach a silent agreement.
With the blessings of my two companions and the lady with the wavy hair, i stand, and stride towards him. I come to his aid.
"He WILL have the Java-Chip." I say.
He looks upon me, confused. His first word is of protest. i raise a hand; stop him, and enforce.
"He WILL have the Java-Chip."
He falters, his beaner will submissive. a look of antagony, and a hint of change. I look upon him, we stand, eye to eye.
"You WILL have the Java-Chip."
He submits. his beaner will shattered. He turns, looks at the barista.
"I will have the Java-Chip."
... the deed is done.
FIFTY YEARS LATER
Upon his death bed, he looks upon his son. he looks him in the eye. and they share a soulful moment.
He speaks: "My son."
"Yes, father."
"Fifty years ago. a wise man said unto me. six words. it was all he had to say. he spake those words upon me. these six words i will now bestow unto you."
"Father?"
"My son..."
"... you WILL have the Java-Chip."
The lights in the room die out and the Life support system slows to a constant, unfaltering tone.
The boy cries.
Later that week. the boy, acting upon his father's will. he enters the store. a warm tear rolls down his cheek. he tells the barista.
"I will have the Java-Chip."
And almost all at once. the reassuring voice, from the lady with the wavy hair herself chimes out. and for a moment. everything is right in the world.
Suddenly, we realise something, he stutters, tries to say his first word of enlightenment. the stutter of a frappucino. and we realise, he is repentant.
We look at each other and reach a silent agreement.
With the blessings of my two companions and the lady with the wavy hair, i stand, and stride towards him. I come to his aid.
"He WILL have the Java-Chip." I say.
He looks upon me, confused. His first word is of protest. i raise a hand; stop him, and enforce.
"He WILL have the Java-Chip."
He falters, his beaner will submissive. a look of antagony, and a hint of change. I look upon him, we stand, eye to eye.
"You WILL have the Java-Chip."
He submits. his beaner will shattered. He turns, looks at the barista.
"I will have the Java-Chip."
... the deed is done.
FIFTY YEARS LATER
Upon his death bed, he looks upon his son. he looks him in the eye. and they share a soulful moment.
He speaks: "My son."
"Yes, father."
"Fifty years ago. a wise man said unto me. six words. it was all he had to say. he spake those words upon me. these six words i will now bestow unto you."
"Father?"
"My son..."
"... you WILL have the Java-Chip."
The lights in the room die out and the Life support system slows to a constant, unfaltering tone.
The boy cries.
Later that week. the boy, acting upon his father's will. he enters the store. a warm tear rolls down his cheek. he tells the barista.
"I will have the Java-Chip."
And almost all at once. the reassuring voice, from the lady with the wavy hair herself chimes out. and for a moment. everything is right in the world.
The End
Written by: AfroToast
