Bedtime Story

It's really something when you fabricate a whole story out of something that happened uniquely to you in your childhood, as I did with this story in 2007, and then see it on TV as someone else's work afterwards, as though such things happen to everyone all the time. What a destructive impact such lies must have on our brain function. And what a destructive impact is has on our wallets when they make us pay all that extra money to watch multiple performers with no material all steal from the same artist. Hello, children. Are you all ready for another bedtime story? All right then, get under those blankets and listen up. Have you ever wondered why you need to sleep? Maybe your teacher says it's so your body can restore its energy, but that's only part of it. You need to sleep to practice for when you die. Each time you go to sleep, you die without knowing it. You leave your body and fly around in space. If you've been good, you go to Heaven to play with other good children, but if you've been naughty, you go to Hell and have terrible nightmares. Once upon a time, there was a boy who liked to play with stink bombs. One day, on his lunch break from class, he thought it would be funny to put a stink bomb in the gas tank of a beat up old truck to make it stink. The truck exploded and the fire spread to the school parking lot and blew up every car there. The firemen pulled him out of the smoke and flames and brought him to his principal. The principal said that when he found out who blew up his new station wagon, he would paint his office walls with the bastard's blood. Then he asked the boy who did it and the boy said he didn't know. That evening his mom and dad talked about the disaster over dinner. His dad said that they should get the fucker who torched all those cars and use his flaming corpse for a street lamp. His mother said that they should hack out his organs and use them for live transplants to pay for the damages. Then they asked their son if he knew who did it and he said no. After that he was glad to go to sleep so he could forget about his terrible mistake. But he kept waking up screaming all night from nightmares. The next day, when he was playing with a lit firecracker in the kitchen, he thought it would be funny to muffle the bang inside the gas stove. The stove exploded, killing him instantly. His mom and dad died slower of smoke inhalation. He had to go to Hell by himself while his parents went to Heaven without him. They say that whenever you boil water in a teakettle on a gas stove, you can still hear that boy screaming in Hell today. The end. But I'm sure that good little boys and girls like you have no secrets like that to hide from your parents and teachers. Off you go to Sleepyland now. Sweet dreams!
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© 2017. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.