Garth Rides For Hope

CHAPTER 1                                                                                                                             

THE BAR 

 

   Scott walked through the door of his favourite watering hole and was immediately greeted by raucous laughter–laughter that had just exploded from the small crowd gathered by the bar, around a pudgy little man. This short, bald, and rotund center of attention punctuated the story he'd been telling with a dramatic wave of his hand. The very same hand, that also happened to be holding a nearly full pint of beer, causing the frothy golden beverage to splash on nearly everyone and everything encircling him. Surprisingly, not one single soul seemed to care in the least. Scott would later learn that the little man's name was Joe, and he had already been entertaining everyone for nearly an hour before Scott entered the bar and joined in on the fun. 

   Being both a local and a regular, all Scott had to do was tip his head at the bartender, which is why his favourite beverage was already waiting for him when he took a seat at the bar. In the time it took the bartender to open him a beer, Scott had overheard that the little man was about to begin another story. Drink now in hand, he joined the group at the end of the bar, just as the diminutive jokester launched into another tale, that ended up being one of the funniest stories he'd ever heard..    

   “Years ago, in an attempt at determining the funniest joke ever told,  first a UK newspaper chain, then one from Germany, polled their readers and were absolutely surprised by the results. Apparently, humour doesn't have a universal appeal and cultural differences are reflected in what the people of a particular subgroup believe to be funny. As an example of this phenomenon. I'll tell a couple of the jokes, that ended up being the eventual winners from both countries.” 

   “The United Kingdom is up first ...”

   “I'm sure that you're all aware of the famous fictional detective Sherlock Holmes and his trusty sidekick Doctor Watson. Well, they accepted a case that would take them deep into the forest and decided to kill two birds with one stone, by turning this job into a long overdue vacation and camping trip as well.”

   “After finding the perfect spot on the beach, near a crystal clear deserted lake. They pitched their tent, sunk a few dozen beer in the cold water to chill, prepared a bonfire to be lit later, and once everything else was perfectly in order, headed off into the dark and ominous woods to begin their inquiries.”

   “Together, they spent most of the remaining daylight hours investigating. Happily, after only a few false leads, they successfully solved the case. Overjoyed, they returned to their secluded campsite, retrieved some beer from the lake and began to party. Throughout the remainder of the evening, they continued their celebrations by roasting hot dogs in the flames, drunkenly singing campfire songs and finally toasting marshmallows over the burning coals.”

   “Eventually, their slightly inebriated heads hit the pillows and they quickly fell asleep. Somewhere around three in the morning Sherlock awoke and elbowed his friend.”

   “Watson … Wake up!”

   Alarmed, Watson's eyes immediately popped wide open and he slowly turned towards his associate.

   “Sherlock … What's wrong?”

   Sherlock pointed straight up.

   “Watson my old friend, I'd like you to look up at the stars in the sky and tell me what you think.”

   Being the ever obedient friend, Watson did as instructed and pondered the night time sky. Mere seconds later, he responded.

   “Well Sherlock … Knowing that there are billions of stars that I can see with my naked eye and countless billions more that I can't. I have to believe that we are not alone in the Universe … There just has to be other intelligent life out there.”

   Sherlock slowly shook his head in disgust before responding.

   “Watson you idiot … Someone stole our tent!!!”

   The entire group surrounding the storyteller erupted into laughter, including Scott, who had just finished taking a big sip of his beer. The punchline caught him completely by surprise, and his uncontrollable laughter had the undesirable effect of making him pass the frothy carbonated suds painfully through his sinuses, and out his nose. 

   Scott quickly grabbed a few napkins from the bar and while cleaning up the mess he'd made, the little man continued.

   “The Germans' however, have a completely different idea about what makes a joke funny, and this is what they overwhelmingly voted for.

   A dog walks into a Telegraph Office, places his front paws up on the counter and asks to send a Telegram. The operator slides a pencil and pad across the counter, towards the dog, who writes …

                        WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF

   The dog then pushes the completed message back across the counter toward the operator, who quickly and quietly counts the number of words before continuing.

   “Sir, by my reckoning you've eight WOOFS written here. I'd like to inform you that we're having a bit of a sale. Today only, you can send ten words for the same price as eight. Which means, that for absolutely no extra cost, you can include two extra WOOFS in your message. 

   The dog briefly ponders this new information before responding.

   “But then it wouldn't make any sense.”

   Surprisingly, a hush fell over everyone gathered at the end of the bar. Collectively, they waited for another amazing punchline. One by one, quiet groans escape their lips, when they were struck with the realization that the joke's ending had already been delivered. 

   The little man chuckled before continuing.

   “Really … I can assure you that if there were any Germans present, they'd all be rolling on the floor laughing their guts out. Now, I've hogged the limelight for long enough. I'm always in search of the next great new joke and I'd love to hear any that you'd be willing and kind enough to share with us. 

   Hesitantly, a few brave souls put forward their favorite jokes and after each and every punchline had been delivered, the little man asked the teller whether they'd been the one that made up the joke. In every case, the teller admitted that they were just retelling tales they'd heard elsewhere. When pushed to recollect where they'd heard it, they were always at a loss for words and incapable of remembering the joke's source. 

   Scott had patiently been waiting his turn. He remembered every joke he'd ever heard and thoroughly enjoyed retelling his favorites, loving nothing more than the laughter he received in return. When the little man's eyes finally met his, Scott confidently began telling his tale.

   Garry's pet parrot Pauly, had been acting rather strange lately. Normally, the bird calmly kept to his perch and happily impressed anyone that came within earshot, with it's incredibly large and slightly salty vocabulary. 

   However, over the past few weeks, Pauly had been acting a bit strange. He inexplicably shredded the Livingroom drapes, ripped a large hole in Garry's favorite recliner and began swooping at Sally the Toy Poodle, trying unsuccessfully to pick a fight with the small dog.

   Garry was concerned and took Pauly to the neighborhood Veterinarian. After a brief examination, the Vet told Garry that there really wasn't anything seriously wrong with his pet. The strange behavior was a direct result of the fact that his bird was horny and needed to mate. 

    Garry felt a whole lot better, after being assured that once Pauly had done the deed, all of the strange and erratic behavior would immediately cease. However, even though this strange news made him very happy, he remained concerned. After all, he told the Vet, he didn't know anyone that owned a female parrot of the same rare and exotic breed. 

   The Vet told Garry that he actually owned a female of Pauly's breed and as luck would have it, the bird was currently sitting in a cage, in one of the clinic's back rooms. Furthermore, for the small sum only of Fifty Dollars, he would put Pauly into the cage with the female and let him have his way with her. 

   Garry was appalled. The bill for this visit was probably going to be somewhere around a hundred dollars, and an extra fifty on top of that seemed a bit excessive. Also, Garry had never in his life, employed the services of a prostitute and didn't know if he could justify the fact, that the first time he paid for sex … It would be for his bird. 

   Next, he reasoned that he also couldn't afford any more expensive repair bills, like the ones he'd just paid to fix up the drapes and recliner. The fact that finally tipped the scales in the Pauly's favor, was that poor Sally the poodle would be able to come out of hiding once again. 

   Immediately after the cash changed hands, Garry and the Vet put Pauly in the cage with the female. The next five minutes seemed to crawl by, while both men stood waiting, watching both birds sitting on opposing perches and ignoring each other. Finally, the Vet suggested that they should probably give the parrots some privacy, and maybe  they should adjourn to the Staff Room, where they could relax and enjoy a cup of hot coffee. 

   Shortly after they'd sat back and were enjoying their first sip of coffee, a ruckus broke out in the backroom. Together, they raced towards the birds' room, where the squawking and screeching was so loud, that Garry feared for both bird's safety. 

   When Garry and the Vet burst through the doorway, the air was full of flying feathers and inside the cage, the male had the female pinned to the bottom. With one claw he held her down by the neck and with the other, he was frantically ripping out her feathers … The entire time he was screaming … FOR FIFTY DOLLARS, I WANT YOU NAKED!!!!

   The crowd erupted with laughter, and while their reaction  to the unexpected punchline ran its course, the little man nodded his head towards Scott in a sign of respect, then asked.

   “Did you write that? I don't believe I've ever heard a joke that was even remotely similar to that one before.”

   Scott thought for an instant before replying.

   “I guess I could take credit for coming up with that one. It's actually a mash up of a few different stories, ending with what I believe to be a completely original punchline. 

   Before launching into his next joke, Joe seemed to file away the information he just received, into a part of his brain exclusively reserved for just such things. Throughout the remainder of the evening, Joe and Scott took turns telling some of the funniest jokes that most of the other patrons had ever heard. 

   Joe never ran out of funny material and kept up his extraordinary performance, right up until the Bartender hollered

   “LAST CALL.”

   Just before everyone headed towards the door, a slightly drunk, beautiful, long haired blonde woman, slid between Scott and Joe. She poked Scott in the belly and while looking up into his eyes, asked.

   “Knock … Knock”

   Scott couldn't help but reply.

   “Who's there?”

   The blonde laughed and slurred her words a little while responding.

   “Obviously not Pavlov … He'd have rung the bell!”

    It was Scott's turn to laugh and he was quick with a comeback.

 “Knock ... Knock,”

   Immediately the Blonde fired back.

   “Who's there?

   Scott replied.

   “Lion.”

   The Blonde smiled sweetly while responding.

   “Lion who?”

   Scott unleashed his best wicked smile.

   “I'd be Lion if I didn't tell you, that you'd look really good between the sheets of my King size bed.”

   The Blonde nodded and it was clear to everyone there, that she'd have no problem whatsoever, agreeing to go along with that suggestion. However, before allowing her to accept his not so subtle invitation, or tell another Knock Knock Joke, Scott asked.

   “What would you call a man who's intelligent, incredibly handsome, wealthy, gives great back rubs, hung like a horse and really good in bed?”

   The curvy blonde didn't hesitate for an instant.

   “I'd have to call bullshit on that one … No such man exists!”

   Scott chuckled. 

   “Well then, I guess we'd have to call him Mr. Impossible … Right?”

   The Blonde nodded in agreement and added.

   “You bet … Mr. Impossible works for me.”

   Scott fired back with.

   “Knock … Knock.”

   Now it was the blonde's turn to reply.

   “Who's there?”

   With a shit kickin' grin and a wink, the words flowed off Scott's tongue like honey.

   “Mr. Impossible.”

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CHAPTER 2                                                                                          

SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT

 

   Scott filed out of the bar in Joe's wake and once they were both standing on the sidewalk, the little man turned and invited Scott out for a bite to eat. He immediately accepted, and soon found himself seated in a booth at Denny's, opposite the man whom he believed was beyond a shadow of doubt, the funniest and quite possibly best story teller he'd ever heard. 

   In retrospect, Scott was also somewhat surprised that he wasn't in a big bed somewhere, under the covers and letting the curvy blonde take advantage of him. 

   Scott had ordered the largest breakfast possible and was somewhat surprised by the minimalist and seemingly vegan fare that the rotund little man had ordered for himself. When they'd first arrived, he had assumed that Joe would be drunk as a skunk. After all, nearly everyone at the bar had bought him at least one drink and Joe had quickly drank them all. It was as if the rotund man's stomach were actually on fire and the flames needed to immediately be doused. While waiting for their food to arrive, he realized that Joe was actually stone cold sober and couldn't help but comment on that fact.

   “In the time I was at the bar, I watched you down enough drinks to make a Clydesdale black out, and yet here you sit … Sober as a judge … How is that even possible? … What's your secret?”

  Joe immediately shot back.

  “My secret? … You gotta know that's confidential information … If I told you, I'd have to kill you … Just out of curiosity … How drunk are you? …  And … Are you any good at keeping a secret?

   Scott chuckled.

   “I have to admit to being a bit drunk and as to keeping secrets … Well, I'm pretty damn good at that. Maybe before sending me for the big dirt nap, you could answer a little question. One that I hope doesn't involve you leaking highly confidential, or extremely sensitive information.”

   It was Joe's turn to chuckle.

   “Big dirt nap … I like that one … I think, I might be persuaded into prolonging your existence on this plane, just long enough for one innocuous little question … Shoot.” 

   Scott nodded.

   “Whenever anyone told a joke, you seemed to be quite interested in finding out if they made it up and if they didn't, you asked where they'd heard it. Why were you so fascinated in determining the source of all the jokes? … Are you a member of Interpol's Copyright Police or something like that?”

   Joe briefly contemplated how he was going to answer the question.

   “For as long as I can remember, I've been a storyteller. Over all those years, in an attempt at improving my craft, I've also searched out the stories told by others. In this lifelong quest, I've made a few observations.”

   “First off, Mankind, or maybe I should say Humans, do have an incredible sense of humour. However, it comes with a certain, unique set of limitations:” 

      “Slapstick or accidental humour seems to get the biggest laughs.”

      “A person’s intelligence is directly proportional to what they'll find to be funny– the more the merrier”

      “Similar to Man's inability to remember pain, is their equally strange inability to remember something that they've found to be funny. I've been told that if a woman could remember the incredible pain of childbirth, they'd never agree to have another child. Maybe a Human's reaction to humour or maybe I should say, remembered humour, might just be stored in the same areas of the brain as remembered pain. I only propose this theory because in my experience, the majority of people will laugh their heads off at a funny joke and almost immediately forget exactly what it was they'd just heard.” 

      “Finally, 99.9% of the Earth's population seems to be incapable of creating anything even remotely considered to be funny. The rare exception being accidental humour, such as Puns, Sarcasm or Slapstick.”

   Joe paused to take a sip of his coffee, before continuing.

   “As a form of personal research, I've always tried to find out the source of a joke and the result I always seem to get, is that they can't recollect where it was that they first heard the joke, continually reinforcing my previously stated statistic of 99.9%.”

      “Now, solely based upon my earlier expressed observations, I have to believe that the 0.1% capable of remembering and actually creating humour, are extremely rare Human mutants … And you my friend, are one of those genetic freaks … What do you think of that?”

   Scott had been listening intently, and Joe's extraordinary conclusion along with his follow-up question, had caught him completely by surprise. He took a few seconds to evaluate all the information and formulate a response. 

 “Hmmm … Mutant … Genetic freak … I haven't been called either of those before, but I can see how you got there. Now, based entirely on the fact that you are by far one of the most creative people and funniest storytellers I've ever encountered, and because of my meager comedic talents you consider me to be a mutant  … I have to wonder, just what does that make you? … Some kind of alien?”

Joe looked Scott directly in the eye and held his gaze while responding.

   “Yes … You've got that right … I am an Alien.”

   After spending most of the evening with this little man and being a witness to his wicked sense of humour, Scott didn't know if Joe was pulling some kind of prank or being completely honest. He took a few seconds to consider all the options, before deciding to go with the prank option.

   “Ya, Ya ... You're as much of an alien as I am … Now hit me with the punchline.”

   For the first time since they'd met, Joe paused momentarily, while he tried to decide the right tack to take in convincing his new friend about the truth in his words. 

   “Earlier you assured me that you were good at keeping secrets. What I'm going to tell you is a secret of the greatest importance and I'd really appreciate it, if you were a man of your word and never, ever tell anyone what you're about to hear.” 

   “You see, I really am an alien. My crew and I are from the Planet Jester and we're visiting your Earth, on what for us, is a mission of the greatest importance. In our civilization and culture, the ultimate goal, the highest achievement, or you could even call it the reaching of our own unique type of enlightenment, are all centered around one's ability to make another laugh. Truly, Comedy or Humour, in all its forms, is what we dedicate most of our waking hours working towards.”

   “As further proof of my alien origins, I'd like you to look closely at my hands. You Humans' have only one opposing digit per appendage, we Jesterians have two. Watch carefully while I realign my hands.”

   Scott's jaw dropped so low it nearly hit the table, when both of Joe's hands slowly changed, reforming in a weird new configuration, the likes of which he'd never seen before.  

   Joe continued.

   “And, if I were to take off these extremely uncomfortable shoes, you'd see that my feet are nearly perfect copies of my hands. Furthermore, at the towering height of four-foot eleven of your inches, among my people I'm considered to be an extremely tall, freak of nature. Next, when you look very closely, you'll notice that I don't have any body hair whatsoever … Not even any of your protective Eye Brows or Eye Lashes. Now, are you convinced that I'm an alien? ... Or do you require more proof?”

   Scott slowly shook his head.

   “I'm convinced and I have to admit, more than a little surprised. I do however have a few questions. The first of which is: Why did you reveal yourself to me? … And secondly, just what is this … Mission of greatest importance … That brings you to our planet?”

   Joe was happy to answer both questions

   “My people have been regularly visiting Earth since well before Homo Sapiens' developed the ability to walk upright. Over all that time, we've also been developing the sense of humour of many of the other, higher order of Mammals. Whales, Dolphins, and many species of Monkeys are more than capable of laughter, and our Universal Translators allow us to effectively communicate with nearly any intelligent creature.”

   Scott interrupted.

   “Really … Monkeys can laugh?

Joe chuckled.

   “Not only can they laugh but you'd be surprised to learn that the one thing that totally cracks them up, I mean, really makes them howl with laughter, is the way their incredibly ugly, hairless cousins, Homo Sapiens look. “

   After his last observation Joe paused only long enough to enjoy a small laugh before continuing.

   “Now where was I? … Oh ya, similar to your species, the rest of Earth's other sentient inhabitants have the ability to find humour, or maybe I should say appreciate comedy, as just like mankind, they are incapable of remembering and creating humour.”

   Joe looked directly into Scott's eyes and unblinkingly held his gaze.

   “Now that I've laid the groundwork … I think, I just might be able to answer your first question …   Why you? … Scott, the simple truth is that tonight, back at the bar, you showed the most potential that a human ever has. Your ability to create humour is nearly on par with one of the younger Jesterians, and if you're willing, I'd like to offer you what I guess you'd call an internship. One that takes place on-board our Mothership. We're currently in the early stages of a three year Intergalactic tour and you could hop on-board, learn, and ultimately become the Earth's very first … Guru of humour … What do you think of my offer?”

   The offer genuinely intrigued Scott, but like the average human … Just the idea of a major change is very scary and he immediately began to come up with reasons for why he couldn't … Instead of reasons for why he should. 

   “I've got family here … A mother, father, brothers, sisters, an apartment and a job. I can't just disappear for three years. Everyone would be worried and think that I'd died under mysterious circumstances. However, the prospect of traveling on a spaceship and learning how to be funnier is really very appealing. If there were some way for me to maintain my things here on Earth, keep my family assured that I didn't run away and wasn't dead … Well, maybe I might … As you say … Hop on-board and accept your internship offer.”

   Joe smiled knowingly.  

   “My presence at your local watering hole tonight wasn't by accident. We've been watching you for a while and anticipated making you the first ever Human to be offered an Internship. Subsequently, we anticipated your objections and our computers have been hard at work and already sorted out the logistics to successfully overcome all your concerns. Now, please check your phone. You've been sent a complete set of instructions. After accepting our invitation, you'll have 48 hours to set everything in motion and say your goodbyes.”

   Scott was intrigued and as instructed, quickly scanned his smartphone. He was astonished that the Jesterians' computers had actually thought of nearly everything. The plan appeared to be flawless and not only was there a believable explanation for his three year absence but his apartment and all his belongings would be waiting for him upon his return to Earth. He was surprised to learn, that by utilizing computer apps such as Facebook and Skype, regardless of where he was in the Universe, he still could be in instantaneous contact with all the loved ones he'd be leaving behind.

   However, there was one issue that the computers had miserably failed to address, and It had taken Scott a little while to realize that this was a major concern … And somehow, would have to be resolved, before he could wholeheartedly accept the invitation.  

   While Scott scrutinized the plan, Joe tried to be proactive and figure out if there would be any other objections and how to quickly resolve them. Joe's mind flashed back to earlier at the bar. He remembered that every woman in their little group had looked longingly at Scott and tried to not only get physically closer, but were also attempting to establish a relationship of sorts. Joe had studied humans long enough to understand that thirty year old Scott Darling was considered to be an extremely handsome and desirable member of the masculine gender. 

   From Scott's Bio, Joe knew that this human was single and unattached, stood 6 foot 3 inches tall, was a ripped 200 pounds, had medium length natural blonde hair, green eyes and striking Viking like features. This handsome appearance was combined with a staggering intellect and quick wit, that very few members of the opposite sex were capable of resisting. Further reflection reaffirmed the little alien's theory that sex was one of the major laughter triggers in a humans' perception of humour, and that this aspect of humanity had been completely neglected in the computer's proposed action plan.

   Scott looked up from his phone and hesitantly began expressing his concerns.

   “I have to admit that I'm impressed with this plan. It seems to perfectly and more importantly, believably, cover all the bases. However, there may be one point of contention for me. But in order to make an informed decision, I first have a few burning questions that need answering.” 

   Joe had been expecting something like this and motioned for Scott to continue.

   “First, is the decision as to whether I join your mission solely mine or is there a danger that I could be abducted and conscripted into service? Secondly, if I'm to be the first representative from Earth to accept your invitation. Does that mean that I'll be the only member of my species on-board your ship? … And finally, my people aren't very good at being alone. Instinctively, we're accustomed to being part of a group or tribe and in that respect …  I'm also guilty. I may not currently be in a relationship but I'm used to regularity interacting with members of the opposite gender ... In sexual, emotional, and intellectual capacities.”

   It was Scott's turn to take a sip of his coffee before continuing. 

   “I'm well aware of the fact that I'll have immediate and unrestricted access to Porn, and I'm sure that your technology could more than likely produce a mechanical surrogate of sorts, one that would probably be perfectly capable of filling all those roles … But for me, three years is a really long time, and I know that I'd quickly tire of these stop gap measures. I'd actually love to join you on this mission, but without the company of a beautiful, real, live, human female to keep me company … I'm not sure that I can.” 

   Joe was ready with answers, ones that included a quickly put together Plan B, and he hoped his new friend would find these new arrangements to be an easily acceptable solution.

   “First off, we never have and never will abduct anyone. Forced confinement or should I say, any restrictions to an individuals freedoms are completely at odds with who we are as a people. I know that in comparison to you Humans we are short, fat, and completely bald, but amongst all the space-faring Galactic Civilizations, we are considered to be the hippies of the universe … You know … We champion: Freedom, peace, free love and all that jazz. I want to assure you that your participation must be 100% voluntary. After all, it's nearly impossible to be creative and funny while being oppressed or unlawfully confined and in shackles.”

   “I do have to admit that we've accidentally overlooked the social aspect of your internship. Under the plan you've just finished reading, you indeed would've been the only Human on-board or for that matter, traveling throughout the universe. However, I just might have come up with a solution to this dilemma. There is another human that we've been watching closely and she's on the brink of being offered an internship of her own. According to her Bio she's very attractive. Does the fact that she's a part time Victoria's Secret Angel mean anything to you?”

   Scott chuckled, knowing full well that Joe knew the relevance of his last question and rather than comment, he nodded and motioned for the little alien to continue. 

   “Her creativity and story-telling abilities are nearly on par with yours. However, we believed that she still needed a bit more time to develop. That's why it was decided, that if, over the course of the next few years, we allowed her talents to mature organically. We'd definitely be able to make her an offer when we swung by the Earth on our very next circuit. Your understandable reluctance has made us reevaluate the situation, and accelerating our plans in regards to Maria has already been approved by the committee.”

   “Now here's the deal … You and I will both go and interview her. If the two of you agree that you'll be able to get along with each other. Then of your own free wills … Consent to participate and when the Blue Moon of Belzog fails to rise above the horizon ... Will an Internship offer be tendered to you both. From this point onward, the pair of you will be considered a package deal … Agreed?”

   Scott had been listening intently, but still needed a little while to mull things over before responding.

   “Victoria's Secret Angel Huh? … And just out of curiosity  … Has the Blue Moon of Belzog ever risen above the horizon?”

   Before Scott continued, Joe chuckled softly while mischievously shaking his chubby bald head.

   “Her name is Maria huh? … Well I guess I've got nothing to lose by meeting her … Sure  … What the Hell … Let's do it … When and where do we meet?”

   Joe was quick to respond.

   “Now, or I guess to be exact, I should say in about a half an hour … And she's in Medellin, Colombia … Your chariot awaits … Lets go!”

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