Interactive Religion [Tuesday, April 1]
"I'm sure you're all familiar with the Beatitudes," Biff said, looking at his class while they assembled around giant tables filled with all kinds of fruit and rolls of plastic wrap. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, the peacemakers, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…" He made a "blah, blah, blah" gesture with his hand. "I was there when we were writing that up and I'm telling you that a few groups got left off the list."
He hopped up onto a table and let his legs swing free. "Not just the big, powerful, rich guys with swords-Josh told me that they didn't really need his help-but the wankers--" Biff paused to wink. "And let me say that more than a few apostles would have been really, really blessed if wankers had been included, and the dumbfucks were kept out of the final speech up there on the Mount. I always felt kind of bad for the poor, neglected dumbfucks, and we never did settle on a group to give the fruit baskets to."
Biff blinked as a tiny troupe of jesters, wee bells jingling, raced into the room, bopped Biff over the head with an inflated bladder and then fanned out among the students. "Huh."
He waved his hands at the tables. "Anyway, that's what you're doing today: making fruit baskets for dumbfucks. For your homework, I want you to deliver your basket, or baskets, if you know a lot of dumbfucks, to any that you've noticed around town. Just, um, don't tell them why they're getting the baskets. Dumbfucks tend to be touchy about being dumbfucks. Just give them a nicely vague smile-you know the kind, the ones you give to elderly people and the insane-and back away slowly. If they get really confused, sing a funeral dirge at 'em until they back away."
He clapped his hands together. "Okay, get started! Then we will celebrate with pizza."
He hopped up onto a table and let his legs swing free. "Not just the big, powerful, rich guys with swords-Josh told me that they didn't really need his help-but the wankers--" Biff paused to wink. "And let me say that more than a few apostles would have been really, really blessed if wankers had been included, and the dumbfucks were kept out of the final speech up there on the Mount. I always felt kind of bad for the poor, neglected dumbfucks, and we never did settle on a group to give the fruit baskets to."
Biff blinked as a tiny troupe of jesters, wee bells jingling, raced into the room, bopped Biff over the head with an inflated bladder and then fanned out among the students. "Huh."
He waved his hands at the tables. "Anyway, that's what you're doing today: making fruit baskets for dumbfucks. For your homework, I want you to deliver your basket, or baskets, if you know a lot of dumbfucks, to any that you've noticed around town. Just, um, don't tell them why they're getting the baskets. Dumbfucks tend to be touchy about being dumbfucks. Just give them a nicely vague smile-you know the kind, the ones you give to elderly people and the insane-and back away slowly. If they get really confused, sing a funeral dirge at 'em until they back away."
He clapped his hands together. "Okay, get started! Then we will celebrate with pizza."