Ah, Chris. What a guy. Who better to record the wild chronicles of his life than himself? Within these posts are stories and jokes, thoughts and wild conspiracy theories. As Chris grows and continues to view life as nothing more than an extended comedy sketch so will this blog continue recording the weirdness of the life led by one really epic guy.
I had 20 minutes to write this in my fiction class. I must admit, for only 20 minutes I'm pretty proud of it!
“He came a home with a freaking knife!”
“Honey,” he said, his eyes rolling at her turned back, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset! He’s a little boy, boys play with knives!”
“Did you see the knife? It’s huge!”
“Exactly! See, he was playing. It was his sword! Boys will be boys, you know?”
“I never played with knives when I was little!”
“You weren’t a little boy when you were little. Just because our son comes home with a oversized steak knife doesn’t mean he’ll grow up to be an axe-murderer!”
“Oh darling, if only you had seen him you might understand. It flipped out. It was one of those…whatchacallems…a switchblade!”
“See, that’s even less reason to worry! It has a built in sheath so he won’t get hurt by accident!”
“Oh, but darling he looks so intimidating with that leather jacket he’s been wearing lately.”
“He’s just trying to look cool. It’s a phase, he’ll grow out of it.”
“And what’s that A with a circle around it mean? That’s sewn right on the back. And there’s all these red circles with upside down stars in them too, what are those?”
“Oh, I don’t know dear. Probably just a fad. You know, kids these days come up with such funny games.”
“And have you see that thing he does with his friends? Whenever he sees them it looks like he makes some sort of sign language thing with his hands, you know? And they all do it. It looks like they’re making some sort of letters.”
“Oh that, it’s probably just from some TV show or something. You know, they’re so impressionable when they’re as young as him. It’s probably something from, what’s it called that the kids are supposed to be into? Pokemon? Is that still cool?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’s it. I’m sorry, it just makes me nervous sometimes. He’s such a nice young boy though. I doubt we need to worry.”
“Yes honey, I agree, he’s probably the most respectable little 21 year old in the neighborhood. We should be proud.”
“Death solves all problems. No person, no problem.”-Josef Stalin
“Welcome. Please submit name and verification information before entrance, sir.” Staring irritably at the holographic face floating in front of him the man dug through his memory trying to remember everything he needed to know to get past the security checkpoint outside the hospital.
“Ares Vari, PhD., Md. Euthanasiologist, politician, lecturer. I.D. code 000042334,” said Ares slowly. The holographic head flickered and disappeared, indicating that he had again messed up his identification code. “Damn!” he grunted, punching the orange button just below the hologram projector, turning the system back on.
“Welcome,” said the effigy of a female receptionist. “Please submit name and verification information before entrance, sir.”
“Ares Vari,” spat Ares, “PhD., Md. Euthanasiologist, politician, lecturer.” Ares paused, glowering darkly at the hologram before continuing, “I.D. code 000024334.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the security system, “Welcome back. St. Kevorkian’s Hospital is glad to see one of our esteemed doctors back again.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m in a hurry!” Ares grunted futilely at the deaf hologram. “Open the damn door!” The door hissed as it slid open. Ares quickly strode in. “Dumb bitch security system,” he muttered. As Ares power walked into the hospital a young nurse ran up to him, her face contorted as she tried to hide her frustration.
“Dr. Vari, they’ve been waiting for an hour! Please follow me right this way, the crew is already all set up, and we have patients waiting for you.”
The nurse led Ares into a large room with a camera crew and lighting equipment set up around three beds and three Thanatrons. As Ares moved to look over his patients the man in charge of all the cameras motioned at him impatiently. Ignoring this Ares checked the Thanatrons, making sure everything was in working order.
“Dr. Vari, with all due respect, can we please start this already? We’ve already been waiting a long time, and…”
“I’m the fucking doctor here, techie,” snarled Ares. “We’ll start when I’m ready to start.” Taking a few more minutes Ares spitefully continued to check the Thanatrons and the straps holding his patients down to the beds. “Okay, we can start,” said Ares.
“Okay.” sighed the director, turning to his camera man he said, “This crazy old guy thinks just because this is a government propaganda vid he can treat me like this? If this wasn’t paying so well I would show that him that working for the government doesn’t make you God! Whatever, we go in 1…2…3, action!”
“Hello,” said Ares to the camera, “my name is Dr. Ares Vari, and I am a Euthanasiologist. Today I’m going to show you what I do. Here’s my first patient,” said Ares, walking over to the first bed, “a convict who received brain damage while being chased by the police for violating parole. Not only is he now a drain on society, but he’s been against us for most of his life.” Ares checked the IV once more before casually pressing the button on the Thanatron and saying, “Goodbye Mr. Convict, maybe now you’ll actually be of worth to us.”
“My next patient is a quadriplegic. Ironically enough this is the police officer who was chasing our now deceased convict. Breaking your neck is bad, Mr. Officer,” said Ares mockingly. “Now you’re a drain on society. Thank you for serving society for so long, but now you’ve lost your worth. Well, for your last gift from society, a good death—Euthanasia. Goodbye, Mr. Po’po.” Chuckling at his own little joke Ares pushed the button on the Thanatron.
“And now to my final patient for today…” Ares’ voice trailed off as he looked down at the 7 year old girl on the bed next to them. An unintelligible sound escaped her mouth as she smiled stupidly at the man about to take her life. You sicken me, thought Ares, I am the epitome of human intelligence and physical capacity. But you…I despise you.
“My final patient is this mentally retarded girl. Her parents have tried to hide her retardation, but of course it was apparent to us. The drain on society must end. This poor girl will never be able to give back to us, so for the greater good she’s going to have to go.” Ares looked with mock sadness at the girl, his lips curling slightly with the disdain he was fighting not to show. “Goodbye my darling little waste of society…” Ares sighed with relief as he once more pressed the button that would send liquid death in the veins of his “patient”.
*~*
As Ares opened the door to his apartment he saw his roommate and oldest friend half-dressed and leaning over their sink. The sound and smell of vomiting floated across the room. Ares frowned and wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“Seriously, Siegfried? You’re sick now? I have a big speech at Almagor University this afternoon. I need you to help me edit it. If I can’t depend on you at times like this…” Ares stopped in shock as Siegfried fell to the floor and started thrashing and foaming at the mouth, a wild look of fear in his eyes. Ares pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed the district med office. As he put the phone to his ear Siegfried thrashed and gargled loudly. “Shut the hell up!” yelled Ares. “I’ll deal with you in a minute!”
“Hello?” he said, “This is Dr. Ares Vari. My roommate seems to be violently ill. I need a team dispatched here immediately. Thank you.” Ares hung up the phone and ran over to Siegfried’s medkit, pulling out some restraining cords. Dragging Siegfried over to his bed Ares strapped him down.
“Damn it, I’m not as young as I used to be, and you’re not as thin and light. But you were about to smash your head in. God, the trouble you put me through, Siegfried, you dumb ass! Agh, whatever, the medics will be here soon.” As Ares watched, his friend’s spasms became less and less powerful, and his eyes began flickering between open and half shut. “What the hell Siegfried! Don’t fucking die on me now!” Spat Ares as he felt his friend’s faltering pulse, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’re not going to make it. It’s better for both of us if this ends now.”
Ares quickly crossed the room and opened the closet, picking up the Thanatron he used to show during lectures. He deftly connected the IV to Siegfried’s arm. Ares was surprised to see that the fear in Siegfried’s eyes didn’t decrease, but rather increased to panic. Through the white foam on his lips he squeezed a noise that sounded like the word, “No.”
“Don’t worry old friend,” said Ares matter-of-factly. “Death is the end. No more worries. You’re no use to society like this anyway. Besides, this is a good death. Ha, Euthanasia, remember?” As Ares pushed the button, sending the Saline, Sodium Thiopental, and lethal Potassium Chloride into his friend’s body he chuckled and remembered how he and Siegfried used to joke about the protestors who called them angels of death.
“We aren’t just angels of death,” Siegfried had said, “We’re the angels of good death! Doesn’t that make us angelic?” Both Ares and Siegfriend had laughed at the play on words. The word Euthanasia coming from the Greek word Eu, meaning good, and Thanatos, meaning death, they viewed themselves as advocates of good death, simply trying to relieve the pain of society and the world.
A few minutes of sadly reminiscent chuckling later the door burst open and 3 young medics in bright orange vests came in, looking around to see why they had been called. “He’s dead,” said Ares, “He was going to die slowly and painfully, so I euthanized him.” The medics stared at him in shock. One walked shakily over to Siegfried and felt for a pulse.
“He’s gone,” said the medic, “Do you have any idea what might have been killing him, Dr. Vari?”
“I have no idea,” said Ares, shrugging.
“Dr. Vari, I know this may be a bad time but…” the medic looked at his shoes nervously, “I went to Almagor University for med school. So, you’re something of an idol to me, Dr. Vari. How did you have the guts to found a school like Kevorkian U and then keep speaking about Euthanasia even when people like the IPLL…”
Staring in shock at the sensitivity of the young medic Ares snarled, “No, this is not a good time! I had the guts because I had good support from people like Siegfried, who is dead now, damn you.”
Ares sighed and then remembered his place. “Well, anyway, I’m giving a speech at your good old alma mater tonight if you’re interested, and…” Ares’ voice trailed off as he noticed something he should have noticed as soon as he entered the room. Lying on the floor next to his bed was a half eaten box of chocolates that seemed to have been dropped carelessly, most of the remaining chocolates having fallen out onto the floor. “He was poisoned” gasped Ares angrily.
Walking swiftly over to the box Ares picked up the envelope that had been carelessly dropped near it. Typed in a flowery font across the front it said, “To: Dr. Ares Vari, From: Society” Tearing it open Ares unfolded the piece of paper inside. On the paper in a considerably more somber font it said, “For Freedom and Life! Compliments of the IPLL.”
Throwing the paper on the floor and stomping on it Ares said, “I always find it ironic that the International Pro-Life League chooses to work through death. If they are so pro-life how can they also be so pro-my-death? You start out burning abortion clinics and killing abortionists and look what it leads to? Are they really working for life or for death? This is a blatant assassination attempt by some desperate and impotent terrorists, and I will not stand for it. My friend is dead, and it’s all due to those IPLL bastards!”
The medics listened in stunned shock to hear this distinguished looking politician in his fifties speaking so angrily and coarsely. “We-we’ll have those chocolates analyzed right away, Dr. Vari, and we’ll send his autopsy results to you immediately!” stammered the lead medic. As the medics began collecting the chocolate and preparing to take Siegfried’s body Ares went over to the body of his old friend. Leaning over him Ares whispered one final goodbye in his ear. “Farewell Siegfried. You’re more useful to society and me now than you ever were before. Thank you for dying. It was getting to be about time.”
With that said Ares straightened, thanked the medics, and left. This is fantastic, thought Ares, I’ll have to add this into my speech for tonight. This only makes my case stronger, you moronic protestors. You know nothing of politics, society, or the world. Tonight I will deliver you a fatal blow and strengthen my own case even further!
*~*
Ares’ mind was filled with mixed thoughts and feelings as he rode the Skytrain to Almagor University. Was what I did right? He thought, Siegfried seemed…scared. He never feared death, and he loved Euthanasia for society’s sake. I don’t understand. If Siegfried could be afraid, what of all the hundreds of other…Ares sighed deeply, just as he had every time doubt assaulted him. I’m doing the right thing, he reminded himself, I’m serving society. I’m saving our resources. Euthanasia is best for everyone. *~*
“Earlier today my dear old friend, Dr. Siegfried Phobos, had an attempt upon his life. He was dying slowly, obviously in terrible pain. So I was able to save him through euthanasia. But why was he dying in the first place? A few minutes ago I received the coroner’s report and the report on a box of chocolates that was mysteriously delivered to my room earlier today, delivered by the so-called International “Pro-Life” League. The chocolates were poisoned, and now my friend is dead. I was the target of these terrorists! This underground terrorist movement must be opposed! They have undermined the our government and society for too long! We cannot allow this to stand! They want to shut down our programs and damage society, but I say, ‘No!’ If these people get their way than, as we can see, death, not life, is the result!”
Ares paused, looking out across the auditorium, counting the nodding heads, looking out for the disapproving faces.“Our world resources are low and getting lower, and that’s why we need to forget pointless sentimentality and continue our program of Resource Conservation and…” Suddenly the doors of the auditorium were kicked open and the sound of automatic weapons fire drowned out the sound of Ares’ voice as five men in ski masks ran in, shooting randomly towards the podium. As Ares ducked beneath the podium he saw a grenade land several yards away. The last thing he heard was the sound of an explosion and shrapnel hitting all around him.
*~*
As Ares opened his eyes all he could see was the fuzzy glow of an industrial fluorescent light. He groaned loudly. As he tried to stretch his body he was shocked to get no response. He tried to sit up, and nothing happened. He tried to move his hands to examine his body, and then he realized he couldn’t feel his hands. In fact, he couldn’t feel his body at all! He groaned again, even more loudly this time.
Ares heard the sound of hurried footsteps and saw a grizzled face float into view. Turning his head to the left a few inches, which was as far as he could make it move, Ares saw the torso of a man in a white lab coat with a flashing laminated nametag that declared him to be “Dr. Smithers: Euthanasiologist, Euthanasia Center of New York.”
“Ahh, Dr. Ares Vari, it’s a pleasure to have you here today. It’s thanks to you that my profession exists, so it seems only fitting that my final patient before I retire would be you. I’m sure you realize where you are…” Ares turned to his the right and finally saw the Thanatron, The Death Machine. The three bags, one of Saline, one of Sodium Thiopental, and one of the lethal Potassium Chloride, dangling ominously from a grisly metal frame, leading to an IV attached to his arm.
His words were slurred when he spoke. “I shouldn’t die,” forced out Ares. “Society needs me!”
“Why would society need a quadriplegic like you?” sneered Dr. Smithers. “You can’t walk. You can’t carry things. You can’t really work. You’re simply a drain on society.”
Quadriplegic? thought Ares. The IPLL terrorists, and the grenade, and...oh God… “But I can still speak!” slurred Ares, “I can still think! What of my political influence? What of…”
“The cost of keeping you alive has already been a considerable drain on society,” sighed Dr. Smithers, “but our psychology department requested it, calling it an interesting opportunity to see whether your opinions would change once faced with the consequences of those opinions yourself.”
“I refuse to believe I’m useless,” Ares slurred on, “I have money. I can pay for my medical costs! That’s not a drain on society. That’s supporting it! I have the money!”
“Correction,” said Dr. Smithers mockingly, “You had money, but you’ve been in a coma for a month. The cost of keeping you alive has considerably drained your bank account.”
“How is that possible!” said Ares as vehemently as he could muster, “I had lots of money. I…”
“Here, let me show you a video,” said Dr. Smithers, a smile sliding onto his face as he got the remote control and prepared to turn on the video. “I think you’ll recognize it, considering who’s in it.”
Saying that, Dr. Smithers turned on the video and Ares saw a much younger version of himself standing behind a podium and passionately saying, “…Take quadriplegics for example. The average cost of care, depending on age at time of injury, needed to keep them alive for the rest of their lives is a million dollars, used to cover life support and other medical costs. This means our country, our society, is throwing away 5.6 billion dollars a year on people who can give us nothing, and who will die without ever giving us anything! It is for people like this that euthanasia is made. It’s people like this who need to be sacrificed for the betterment of society!” The sound of applause came from the TV, echoing ironically in Ares’ ears.
“Your words, Dr. Vari, not mine,” said Dr. Smithers. “I’m grateful for your contributions to society. You were almost as influential as the great Dr. Kevorkian himself, but now you are no longer useful.”
“Wait, no!” slurred Ares, “I’m alive! You can’t take that from me just because you think I’m worthless! That-that just feels wrong! What gives you the right to kill me?” Filled with panic Ares tried to move, even just a toe, to show that he wasn’t useless. Was this how Siegfriend was feeling? He thought, And all those others? Even the quadriplegics…like me.
“I can’t die!” Ares said as loudly as he could muster, “Don’t kill me! This isn’t a good death! I’m not ready. I’m afraid. I don’t want to die. I…”
“You don’t have a million dollars,” said Dr. Smithers scornfully, “and even if you did it would be wasted on you. Apparently you never even truly believed what you taught. On society’s behalf, goodbye, Dr. Vari.” With that Dr. Smithers pressed the button and walked away. As the Saline and then the Sodium Thiopental entered into his body through the IV Ares felt heavier, and heavier, until finally he fell asleep.
