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The Ending?

I sat down next to the Guru one day last summer as he watched clouds roll by overhead, and looked up also. Unfortunately, the tall tree behind us blocked my view. I told Him I was going to move. He said "MEH" and I knew he meant "So go!" After finding a comfortable tuft of earth and grass, I leaned back and searched for an interesting cloud. I was immediately drawn to a particular cloud which appeared to be a large, white, fluffy glob of whipped cream. Sure, there were all sorts of whales and dogs and lions and mice and microchips and sports cars, but this pure-bred cloud really was the focus of all our attention. A crowd of cloud watchers gathered around us during those hours of contemplation. Luckily, they were quiet and well-behaved.

It was 2:15 pm when I realized that the large white fluffy glob of cream was getting closer. I mean like thirty feet above us. I also noticed some other things, like a funny whirring sound reminiscent of a frisbee, a slight warming of the air, a smell like peanut butter, and a funny taste in my mouth. I think that was from the blade of grass I was chewing. I watched as the people moved away to expose a clear area. The whipped-cream-covered frisbee landed and, incidentally, caused an incident. I felt a warm rush of stickiness as the whipped cream was flung off the frisbee, revealing the purple and pink plastic, and bathing all near in white goo. In awe, we stood still and silent for a moment. Then in one voice, the massed throng intoned, "MEH."

The Great MEH Guru approached the frisbee slowly, stood up, and then made slightly better time walking. I began to wonder, and then I remembered. This was the Guru's special vehicle. I began again to wonder, and was interrupted as He spoke.

"MEH!"

Well, the Multitudes perceived this to mean "Party down you wild animals!" and they wasted no time in commencing the festivities. But I knew right away the terrible thing he really meant. He was leaving us. He sighed something about needing to do his taxes and read junk mail. As the party began, the Chief MEH stood on his frisbee. I ran to his side and begged. He patted my head, gave me a cookie, and lifted off the ground slightly. I tried to think of something clever, something witty, something compelling, something else. All I could say was "Meh."

As He moved up into the sky, he nodded His head in understanding of my thoughts. I heard him say, precisely one moment before engaging the warp drives, this exact reply;

"MEH...."

I smiled and the anguish left me. As I joined the happy celebration, I tossed his last message in my mind. It bounced around and almost fell out the hole in my head, but it didn't. I remember his promise.

He shall return.

MEH . . .