247-word post, or “The Boy, The Council, and The Question”

The air was thick with cigar smoke and expensive scotch. As the boy stood before them, the Council – festooned in buckskin, tutus, crazy hats and one-piece butt-flapped long-johns – sat on Muskoka chairs as The Chairman brought them to order with his kazoo rendition of  ZZ Top’s 1985 hit ‘Sleeping Bag’.

Some felt this boy should have been dispatched to the passenger ships. But, his parents had friends in high places, and an indulgence was allowed.

The Chairman dropped his kazoo, took a swig of Glenmorangie, and farted. “Never not funny,” giggled one councilman, who was quickly shushed.

“So, boy,” said The Chairman. “Ye  have questions?”

“Yes, Chairman” said the boy. “Can the wheels of industry be slowed down to just essential needs, so the world can heal and perhaps end The Age of Great Storms?”

Gasps.
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“Great questions,” said Poobah. “You know, someone like you shouldn’t stay here on Earth any more. Someone like you should get on a passenger ship for a new life on the Otherworld.”

The men nodded and harrumphed about what a good idea that was.

“Well…” said the boy. “In the old days they went into space. I’ve watched the new passenger ships and they sort of just sledgehammer into the ground a bunch of times and I think pretty much everybody on them gets killed. I don’t think they go to another planet.”

“He’s got us there,” said fart-laugher, who was again quickly shushed. “Just sayin’,” he mumbled under his breath.

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