Random Story

Bill went to the store to pick up some cigarettes, and he saw a juggler in the street. He told the juggler that writing is stupid and the juggler threw his bean bags into the air, all at once.
“Writing isn’t stupid, it’s reading stupid writing that is stupid.” the juggler cried.
All the bean bags hit the ground. One of them splashed into a puddle of mud, and the other two landed side by side on a wet newspaper.
“Oh look what you made me do!” cried the juggler. He furiously slammed his jester’s cap into his hand and twisted it.
“You’re a stupid, stupid man!” he yelled.
Bill was shocked. He didn’t know why he’d called writing stupid, and he certainly didn’t think it would lead to such a dramatic situation. Bill had always considered himself a peaceful person, but ever since he started smoking cigarettes, he felt like he attracted more crazy situations, and Bill found crazy things very interesting.
What’s interesting about crazy things is that they distract you from true things and yet so many people still find them intriguing. Only those who know true things are bored with crazy things.
When Bill looked at the rough skin on the angry juggler’s face, he felt scared. What had made him utter those words that would enrage that juggler? Why had he chosen those words? What possessed him to say them…
Then it hit him. The juggler had wanted him to say those words.
“How did you make me say that?”

The juggler’s shock was apparent. “Ah, you guessed!”

“Guessed what?”

“You guessed my secret! I’m just an old hustler. I have the ability to control minds to do what I desire, so I devised a way to make money. I use my power to make various people walking by on the street say that writing is stupid, then I drop my bean bags in shock. People feel so guilty for saying that writing is stupid and making me drop my bean bags in the mud, that I convince them to replace my bean bags. I make six dollars each time I pull the trick, and it only takes one set of bean bags, which costs a dollar for materials because I hand make them myself every night. I take the bag off the beans and wash it, dry it off at night, and sew it back around the beans in the morning.”

Bill didn’t know what to say.

“But you, boy. You guessed it! Nobody has ever guessed it before! How did you know I was controlling your mind?”

“I didn’t know that you were controlling my mind. I just didn’t think that I would ever say that writing is stupid.”

“It’s not! That’s the whole reason the trick works! People can never find truth in what they said, and they give me six dollars as a sign of repentance. That’s the genius of the plan!”

“If you can control minds, why don’t you just use your power to change the world? You could control the president.”

“I’m not a smart man, boy. If I started thinking for the president, he’d start doing things that I would do, and look at how illogical those things are.”

“You do seem to be selling yourself short.”

“Yes- I know…”

“No- You made me say that! I think you’re getting exactly what you deserve!”

“What do you mean?”

“You just want sympathy!”

“Oh, bugger off!”

Bill walked towards the liquor store where he was buying cigarettes. Over his shoulder he yelled “You deserve better than this, old man.”

“Yes”, the juggler thought. “Yes, I do.”

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