Special Guest Post by Charlie Sheen

I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with God, or as I like to call him, the Big Cheese. I asked for thirty minutes to give him the scope and detail of my inquiry; his handlers said I could have fifteen and a half. Fifteen and a half minutes, 930 seconds, not a lot of time to ask God about one of the most important questions to bedevil mankind. Especially since he can make time go backwards, like Superman but with better special effects. The following is a transcript of our remarkable discussion.

Charlie Sheen: Good afternoon, Big Cheese Head Deity. Thank you so much for taking time out of your demanding schedule.

God: My pleasure, Charlie. I always have time for somebody who makes wholesome family movies like Mighty Ducks.

CS: Um, thanks, but that was my brother.

God: Really? At any rate, your request seemed like something I should answer. Either that or appear in another can of poorly-stirred paint or a half-baked burrito shell.

CS: I should point out that I'm a big backer of yours. I've always supported you, or at least I have since you helped me with that small problem a few years ago.

God (chuckling): Thanks, Charlie. Hopefully you'll keep your pants on this time. Big fan of the show, by the way.

CS: Really? I can't believe that you find time to watch my show, given the quantity of things you have to do!

God: Never miss an episode! I was sorry to see it get end.  I wish I had the steady hand and cool demeanor of President Bartlet.

CS: Um, you're thinking of my father's show.

God: Oh. Sorry. What's your show again? The New Melrose Place? Firefox? Foxfire? Something like that?

CS: Two and a Half Men.

God: I hate that show! That's why the writers all have boils on their…well, never mind. Not to rush you, but you have fourteen minutes and twelve seconds left, by the way.

CS: I'll take that invitation and cut to the chase, then.

God: I'm a good god, or so I've been told.

CS: Lord, there is a problem that has plagued men for years which you have never addressed, and which we cannot get a straight answer to from the sinister conspiracy that has the truth.

God: I know what you're talking about. It plagues the minds of men of all ages, all across the earth.

CS: So I'll just ask straight out, because you're the only one who truly can answer this question for us: is it the size of the boat, or the motion of the ocean?

God: Now, Charlie, I don't think it's appropriate for me give a definitive answer to this question.

CS: Do you have any reason not to?

God: There are many reasons not to.

CS: Then it is the size of the boat?

God: I didn't say that.

CS: Because I have always, always, always been told it's the motion of the ocean during the relationship, and by hookers, but then when it's breakup time, or I ask for change for a twenty, suddenly she fixates on the size of the boat. It's the size of the boat, isn't it? Isn't it!!

God: Charlie, calm down. You're getting agitated.

CS: I can't believe this! How could you pretend to be a just and loving god when you know it's the size of the boat and so you give dinghies to some rich Hollywood celebrities and then give an aircraft carrier to their less-talented brothers! Huh? You got an answer to that, big guy?

God: Charlie, I don't think you're being reasonable or rational about this. Every woman-

CS: Lies through her teeth! That's why I started paying them, so they'd at least maintain the charade!

God: Are we done here, Charlie?

CS: Not yet! I want to know why you won't just wave your finger and fix this!

God: Have you ever heard of the bell curve, Charlie?

CS: No. Was it on Fox or something?

God: Things are grouped around an average, Charlie. Intelligence, height, boat size: they're all grouped around an average. Somebody's gotta be at both ends, Charlie.  Sometimes far from the mean.

CS: There should be a painless non-surgical procedure to allow you to upgrade your boat.

God: Well, there's not.

CS: Is that fair? How come women can get boob jobs, but I lose hundreds of thousands of dollars to a scam run by Smiling Bob? Huh? How can you claim that this is a just world?

God: Are we coming to the age old question of why bad things happen to good people?

CS: No, we're fixating on why I have low self-esteem that manifests itself as a desire to believe that the world is out to get me. Is that a problem?

God: It certainly doesn't seem very interesting for me. So I suppose I'll go.

CS: Hey! I haven't had my fifteen and a half minutes!

God: Sure you did. I sped up time to make it happen.

CS: Curse you, God! I'll get you for this!

God: You say that now, but the next time you wake up next to a transvestite hooker with pictures of you in its cell phone you'll come crawling right back. See you later, Charlie.

I watch as he glides from the room, and inside I simmer, because I know that he's right. "Bell Curve" indeed. Did I have to be on the bottom end for boat size and for intelligence? Couldn't I have at least rated average for one or the other?

Author's Note: What you read didn't actually happen, but it should have.

Posted by: plebian at 04:41 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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