How to be Happy: Not a Self-Help Book. Seriously. by Iain S. Thomas

Author:Iain S. Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Central Avenue Publishing

Here is a drawing. I hope it makes you happy.

(Don’t actually do this. This is an art thing.)

kid_happiness.docx

The Kid That Caused Unhappiness

Some homeless guy first found the kid. Nearly flipped his lid. Ran up to me and said, “Listen to the crazy shit this kid is spewing,” which coming from a homeless guy, reeking of cigarettes and stale booze, is a pretty bold statement. So I humoured him and said ok, then turned to the kid. What he said next nearly destroyed the world.

“What if we were all just nice to each other?”

It may seem like a pretty common idea now but back then, you got to remember, we were killing each other ’n warring ’n raping the earth, not all peaceful like it is now. So I ask him to repeat himself and he says, “I said, what if we were all just nice to each other?”

So I phone the Chief of Police and get him out here to listen to this kid’s crazy political theory, some kind of socialisitimarxiside-mocracticthingamaboo that just doesn’t seem to make sense even though it does.

Chief comes down with a couple of SWAT teams to see what’s going on. By now, there’s a bit of a crowd around the kid, and he’s a dirty little bastard in some torn jeans and what used to be a white t-shirt with some fucked up sneakers and a runny nose and the crowd’s doing that, raarraarrarararr, low-mosquito noise. The chief yells, “What the hell’s going on here?”

“This kid’s lost his mind, Chief,” says one of the cops who got there first.

“You called me out here for a kid? Throw him in the back of a van and get him to a home or something, I haven’t got time for shit like this.”

“No, Chief, listen to what the kid’s got to say.”

“This better be fucking amazing, son, or you’re going to be working security at a fucking lemonade stand once I’m done with you.”

“It is, Chief, listen to him.”

Chief turns to the kid and says, “Ok, kid, let’s have it. What you got to say?”

“I said,” and he clears his throat, “what if we were all just nice to each other?”

At that moment a bead of sweat was born on the Chief’s forehead and I swear I saw it happen. I could see the cogs in his head working and the little puffs of steam coming out his ears.

Ten minutes later, there’s a black helicopter touching down in the middle of the street and guys in black suits and black sunglasses hop out and grab the kid, all civilised because obviously we’re all watching to see what’s going to happen, which is nothing because once he’s in the helicopter, they take off again. That’s the last we ever saw of that kid.

I heard that they took him to see the president. Then they took him to this tiny little cement room down in the bottom of the building, and shot him in the back of the head.

It was

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