Episode 501 – 24/07/18 #MrBrightside

Comments

One response to “Episode 501 – 24/07/18 #MrBrightside”

1. 

   Mr Fishhead

   July 19, 2024

   Yes, you remember all the ruckus about a year ago. Their were whispers about it for awhile. It’s impossible to keep news like that hidden for long.

   The day the news was officially sent out some said, this can’t be! They said it is only a rumor, some idle gossip or just some hopeful dream. But it was true! Many a soul was shaken. More then a few were barely able to keep from falling from a fainting spell.

   A spell it was not! Magic not this time! It’s happening! They shrieked in dismay, impossible to withhold their joy. Many were willing to wait in long lines to see this like it was some kind of vision from the heavens above. Their prayers to the gods were answered. Too see such splendor up close. They filled their pockets full of cash in anticipation for this, ready to spend some hard earned dollars.

   But you had reservations about all this clamor and fuss. You asked, are you really getting what you think you’re getting? A grand commotion on the announcement was a bit much. True, you remember the moments from the past that others talk about. But this is another day and you regret to say that some things change as time moves on.

   You can’t turn the clock back so easily. Everyone wishes it, but it is a difficult task to return to the form of days gone by. And maybe for a moment or two it returns and the spectacle is as it was before. But blink and it’s gone with a flash.

   Your mind doesn’t want the present, it certainly isn’t a gift you received today. You pine for yesterday. But you must shake your head! It’s a mess up in their, messy indeed!

   Of course we all remember the announcement with great fanfare…

   Zellers is back! But it isn’t as it once was…

   Memories of walking the aisles with grandma. She holds your hand as you check the toys in the bright aisle. And granny gives the clerk a few Canadian one dollar bills and a couple of pennies. The toy is yours now! Your granny is content as you play on the ride back home.

   You remember eating at the restaurant when your figure was so fine that those old shorts fit so nicely. Back then it didn’t seem to matter what you ate. Who knows how many hot dogs you gobbled up in those days.

   Your booty was a treasure to behold. For many gawked at those shorts that tempted stray looks. Whether it was jealousy or lust both men and women took notice

   But alas, not these days. That old pair is gathering dust. If you can muster the courage to attempt to put it on you will get a rude awakening. A waking nightmare!

   You claim it shrunk many times over, but your overweighted caboose knows this is all lies. The mirror doesn’t deceive you either. Though you claim it is warped like some circus fair horror house mirror. This circus freak in the reflection can’t be you! This must be some kind of cruel joke. In anger you want to smash the mirror to pieces for this image has shattered your world.

   And you hear laughter, though others say they hear nothing. You swear it’s coming from those shorts. They must be haunted by some evil demon that teases you to put them on. Why must your old clothes mock you?

   But it seems only yesterday that you paraded those shorts down the street with a skip in your steps. As you carried your boom box listening to your sweet tunes. No one dared laugh at you then. If they even thought of challenging your might they would think twice as they saw your moves. You would throw down against any rival. The folly of those to dance with you, for you are a master of breakdancing. Onlookers must of thought you were the king of these streets.

   But it seems these days you are worried that it will be your back, thrown out. And you will break your hip if you dance. Those shorts would surely rip in half if you tried them on.

   You went to the local tailor for a slight adjustment, just a fraction of a hair bigger would do you plead. But he smirked and said he doesn’t perform miracles. But he offered to sew you an invisible outfit made for an Emperor. People would be stunned by the intricate design. You had to decline since you fear people would claim you are a pretender to the thrown. These streets are no longer your empire. Onlookers see you now as a court jester not one of royal grace.

   And you think of buying another pair, just a little bit bigger. But do you have enough cash?

   Back in the old days a few dollar bills bought you a nice bag of goodies. Bags stuffed full of wonders to bring home.

   But this is another day… Now you are weighed down with life and many loonies that never seem enough for a trivial good. Good it is not! No longer do you have swift feet. This day it aches in your joints, the store seems so far away for what should be a simple stroll. Your ankles could not handle such a trip.

   You remember the jingle,”The lowest price is the law. Everyday!” Not this day! Not at all. The law is broken, someone inform the mounties! This cheap imitation of Zellers isn’t cheap at all! This is fraud of the highest order, to charge prices like this. You say it’s must be a misprint, some kind of mistake.

   But the only mistake was your error to think you would set foot in the Zellers of olden times. Even hugging Zeddy doesn’t feel right. This teddy bear isn’t as warm in your embrace as you once remember.

   If the spirit of your granny saw these prices, she would shriek and moan. Even the dead want a deal. This so called “Zellers” that was brought back from the dead. Zellers must be some kind of zombie. For their is no deal to be had in these modern times. The spirit of the Zellers of old is no more.

   Somethings should stay in the past like those old shorts. But you still keep them in a vain hope that the past returns. They are part of who you are. They can’t be easily replaced.

   Must you be doomed to this fate? Their must be another way to silence those damned shorts. In a fury you grab them and try to throw them out the window. But your strength seems weakened these days and those infernal shorts laugh at you on the floor where it has fallen.

   You decide to go on a strict diet. No more hot dogs for you, not even chicken tenders. No more tasty treats, not one! You won’t even nibble on a carrot, not even a tiny turnip will fall into your tummy. For you fear it will just fatten your tushy.

   But the hunger haunts you now, your stomach makes some loud noises. But at least the sound drowns out the laughter from those mocking shorts.

   But you are at a breaking point. You must eat something. But not even one crumb is to be found in the house.

   Anything will do to satisfy your hunger. Is it not enough to hear the laughter? Now your stomach growls like a lion desperate to be filled. These defeaning sounds will surely send you into madness. Must you suffer like a wretched beast?

   You cry out to the heavens above in vain,”Hear my prayers in my time of need. While others would sit, have I not stood tall? While others have stayed silent, have I not sang out with a loud voice? Have I not curried your favor with my deeds? All I ask is a whisper to guide me.”

   A wind from the window blows those shorts toward you. And you realize a simple solution to fix this dire situation.

   And you gaze at those shorts that is suddenly so quiet. It no longer mocks you as you grin in glee.

   I’ll just…

   Eat my shorts.

   Reply