The joke is on me. Thinking that another disaster was forming with the coffee machine, a standby plan was put into place. The machine sat in darkness, with no sign of life. The first part of the plan was to run through the checklist of operations to diagnose the problem. Water? Check. Beans? Check. Turned on? Check. Plugged in? Oops. Well, there you are. The machine was not plugged in. In short order, that problem was rectified. The sounds and aroma filled the room. Salvation is at hand. The healing elixir pours forth into my cup. One sip, and the ever-present Westminster Chime of the doorbell triggers the Cerberus twins, in the form of Twiggy and Tempeste, to take up the ear-piercing, end-of-the-world warning. A toss of an organic knuckle bone into the soundproof room and a slam of the door bring back normalcy and silence.
Checking the security monitor, a rabbit is holding a sign. The sign reads Envelope for Howell. Need to sign. Tips appreciated. With a sigh, the security shut-down process began.
The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.
“Eh, what’s up, Doc?” The rabbit hands me a clipboard and asks for a signature on the line marked with carrot juice. After signing, he hands me an envelope and holds out his free hand, paw. A clear sign that a tip is expected. My tip for the day was articulated to the bunny before slamming the door. “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.”
The envelope is from Linda Hill. Inside is the message. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “joke.” Use it as you see fit. Have fun!
To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/10/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-4-2025/
Joke by John W. Howell © 2025
“Well, that was another tour through your madness.”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“Why don’t you just tip those messengers with money?”
“I think it is more fun to lay out a philosophical one-liner.”
“Well, maybe for you.”
“Besides, how is a cartoon character going to spend a tip?”
“Hmm. Never thought of it that way.”
“Also, I could add how a figment of my imagination is going to drink Voo Doo Rangers.”
“Hey, you hold on there, my friend. First of all, I’m no figment. Second of all, I can drink a ton of Voo Doo Rangers.”
“A ton? Don’t you mean a liquid measure like a barrel?”
You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. I was just pulling your leg. A joke as it were. You are a real as it comes.”
“Aw, thanks. Uber is over there.”
“A classic with custom wheels.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure, but it looks like a 1970 Mercedes 300D SEL.”
“You got me. All I know is there is room for both of us.”
“And we only have to make one stop.”
“One stop?”
“Yeah. The guy is also an Uber Eats delivery person.”
“So what is he delivering?”
“Chickens.”
“Chickens? How is that possible?”
“Well, a farmer needs some more chickens, and Uber Eats delivers anything.”
“So when we get to the pub, we will smell like chickens?”
“You know the pub. No one will notice. Let’s go.”
