Brock Says: The other writer participating in this weekly exercise, Megan Renart, started us off with this sentence:

This fish tastes terrible.

“This fish tastes terrible. Because it’s fish, I guess. The only time I ate fish that tasted any good and wudn’t a fish stick, was in Vagina Beach, Vagina. Bourbon braise’ salmon with like dese little shave’ almons up top. ‘Cept for the texchure, you couldn’ tell it was fish. Not like this. This, is shit,” is what some woman was saying so everyone who wasn’t deaf in the restaurant and on the surrounding pier could hear.

“Have we been seated near an audition for the Real Housewives of Some Other Shitty City?” some dude with skinny jeans and gauged ears was saying so only his table could hear.

Nothing, is what his partner in sarcasm was saying, because though he wanted to let his friend know that his remark was humorous, he could not allow so much as one genuine, positive expression to seep from inside him into the atmosphere. For instance, a laugh. Just farts, carbon dioxide, and cynicism. He hadn’t the wit to compound the joke, so silence. Nothing to hear.

“Please, god, even if you never do anything good for me again, please let this bitch order dessert,” is what the vengeful chef was saying under his breath, so only the popcorn shrimp could hear. This matter was out of god’s hands, so the prayer went unanswered.

“I have never, ever heard a fake porn movie title that was actually funny, and you haven’t either…until now. Lars Von Trier’s Dongville, starring Nicole’s Kids, man. I mean, if kids can work as slang for tits. Doesn’t work for ya? Try some of this. Porn On The Fourth of July. Okay, The Pound and the Furry,” is what some smartass aspiring stand-up was saying so his digital audio recorder could hear. He was so excited about his own ideas that he missed out on the joke that god was making nearby.

“When are you going to get married, Crockett?” is what somebody’s grandma was saying so her grandson and granddaughter, husband and son could hear. Crockett had recently seen Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, so he was thinking it might be never. Actually, he was right.

“The Street Fighter 3 Chun-Li is my ideal woman. Those thighs!” is what some horny video game nerd was saying so some other horny video game nerd could hear.

“I just wish I could have those big thighs wrapped around me once before I die,” is what that other horny video game nerd was saying so the first horny video game nerd could hear.

“If Brokeback Mountain didn’t do as well as it did at the box office, I wouldn’t expect America to ever be ready for a gay president,” is what somebody who thought they knew what they were talking about was saying so another straight person could hear. America, as we know it, wouldn’t last long enough to be so accepting.

“Honey, I love you,” is what a perfect gentleman who actually wasn’t kidding himself was saying so his bride-to-be could hear.

“Sweetheart, I love you, too,” is what that bride-to-be was saying so her gratefully betrothed could hear.

“Of course Christianity is more powerful than Scientology. Christianity doesn’t need lawyers and cash to control its flock,” is what a thinker was pondering so his transgender and black friends could hear, when Jesus Christ finally came back.

Even the Christians were surprised, because though they thought they had faith it would happen with all their hearts, few of ‘em really believed it. They had faith in their hearts, but not their heart of hearts. Christ himself wasn’t even sure it would happen. So many were confused by the gesture, and not just because he wasn’t white, but because he hadn’t come to bring about the end times. He just came back to tell people to stop being such cocks to each other. He was like, “Give it a rest,” so all the cocks could hear. Especially people who were being cocks in his name. Then he gently reminded us that nobody has a fucking clue what goes on after they’re corpsed and that they should stop acting like they’re so damned sure they know what happens all the time. I’m paraphrasing. After that, he left again, and people started to wait patiently for his third coming.

It was about a year and a half before people started acting like cocks again. And, oh, what a year and a half that was.

…

“I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” -Mahatma Gandhi

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