Local Man’s Idea to Reduce Carbon Gas Emissions & Global Energy Waste

Dateline—Monterey, CA
We at Foolish Times have had a rare opportunity to interview the local Tom Burns, a far-thinking futurist and heretical conservationist. Mr. Burns was interviewed while on his back, wearing cowboy boots and a Speedo, making “sand angels” at Del Monte beach.
FT: Mr. Burns, we understand you have a rather controversial idea to eliminate a huge environmental problem.
TB: Indeed. It came to me while reading the Bible.
FT: Please continue.
TB: It was a beautiful day. I had had a P&J sandwich for lunch, as I recall. My cold sore was healing, and my . . .
FT: NO! Don’t start this again! Every single interview, you lose focus, ramble, and stray to some idiotic drivel!
TB: Are you having a bad day?
FT: I, for just once, would like to interview you without your nonsensical litanies. Pllleeeeeaaaaaaassssseeee!
TB: Okay, since you put it that way—I’ll behave. By the way, you’re standing on my last sand angel. Stand next to me, please.
FT: This spot okay?
TB: Yes, but don’t knock over my Coppertone.
FT:
TB: Why are you rubbing your temples?

FT:
TB: Cat got your tongue? Anyway, while you sulk in silence, I’ll continue the interview. While flipping through the Bible one day, looking for those numerous verses laden with steamy sexual passages that no Good Christian will admit to, I came across a scary account of Hell. It seemed . . .
FT: You were roaming through the BIBLE, looking for SEX SCENES?
TB: Why, yes. The way you say it, it sounds like “Bible” and “sex scenes” will be in all capital letters.
FT: Why, why, WHY do I always volunteer to do your interviews?
TB: Boy, wouldn’t you love to have spent a week or two in Sodom and Gomorrah? “What happens in S&G, stays in S&G . . .”
FT: Why, why, why . . .
TB: And those concubines! Oy ve!
FT: Why, why, why . . .
TB: You’re blocking my sun. Please move over there.
FT: Why, why, why . . .
TB: I hear the Meter Maid coming. You parked on the wharf? How many quarters did you put in? I’ve got a bunch of quarters in my Speedo pockets, if you want to stick your hand in there and fish them out. They make me look “bigger,” if you know what I mean.
FT: Why, why, why . . .
TB: Well, I’ve finished this angel. Wanna give me a hand up so I can make the next one?
FT:
TB: Run out of “why’s”? I’ve got some in my Speedo pockets if you want to . . .
FT: WILL YOU SHUT UP??? JUST SHUT UP!!!
TB: How can we continue the interview if I JUST SHUT UP?
FT:
TB: Aw, come on back. I’ll be good. Really. Trust me.
FT: Okay. Steady now. Easy does it. What . . . is . . . your . . . energy-saving idea?
TB: Hell. It has to do with Hell. To be honest, I never believed in Hell until I met my second wife.
FT: Was she religious?
TB: No! The marriage was Hell.
FT: Need I continue to be your straight man?
TB: This is a great place for a “straight man-gay man”’ joke, but your editors would probably edit it out.
FT: If they had an ounce of sense, they would edit YOU out!
TB: Snippy, snippy, snippy. But I digress . . .
FT: That’s ALL you ever do.
TB: Now that’s just downright rude.
FT: Sorry. My bad.
TB: Back to Hell. My mathematical calculations indicate that about 6.5 billion dollars are spent to heat up Hell. At today’s prices, that’s about 6.5 billion dollars.
FT: 6.5 billion a year?
TB: No, you ninny. A SECOND! Do you have any idea how many BTUs are needed to roast the gazillions of sinners throughout eternity? My calculator doesn’t go that high!
FT: And you propose . . . ?
TB: CLOSING HELL! OPEC is going to raise a stink, but they hate us infidels, anyway.
FT: And how do you, sir, propose to close down Hell?
TB: Kick Satan out and have a government agency operate it. They’ll run it into the ground, no pun intended, in a matter of months.
FT: And what would Satan do?
TB: He would make one hell of an arson investigator—pun intended, or, he can make sand angels. My arms are getting tired.
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Tom Burns can be reached at: burns100@earthlink.net