Nothing Is Funny Anymore
By: Timothy O'Neill
Tags: Play, Reincarnation, Humor, Drama, Fiction

I’m walking in the park when I am accosted by a stranger

Stranger: Well where do you think you’re going?

Me: Home.

Stranger: Where’s home?

Me: Yep, that does it for me. I’ll be seeing you.

Stranger: Don’t leave.

Me: That’s it?

Stranger: What do you mean?

Me: I mean you’re a total stranger and you want me to stick around and your pitch is ‘don’t leave?’ Come on. You gotta give me something to work with.

Stranger: Ah. Okay. If you stay here with me I’ll tell you a secret that will make your head explode.

Me: Better.

Stranger: Still not sold?

Me: Would you look at the time. I better be on my way.

Stranger: I’ll tell you two secrets. One about your life and one about the universe.

Me: There it is. You have my attention. Please proceed.

Stranger: This is bizarre.

Me: What is?

Stranger: This interaction. This never happens.

Me: Never?

Stranger: Never.

Me: Interesting. Share a lot of secrets, do you?

Stranger: A few here or there.

Me: How can anyone trust you?

Stranger: I always get permission first.

Me: From who?

Stranger: That’s a secret.

Me: Ah.

Stranger: So which secret do you want to hear first, the one about you or the one about the universe?

Me: The one about me. Let’s get the nonsense out of the way.

Stranger: In your past life you were a Nazi. You were a camp guard at Auschwitz. You know how your life, like, really blows?

Me: Nailed it. But in all seriousness, it does suck.

Stranger: Yes, and this is part of your karmic penance for the sins of your past.

Me: Prove it.

Stranger: I don’t have to prove it. I just have to say it and your subconscious will unlock your past life memories. Just wait a day or two.

Me: Sigh. I thought this conversation might be humorous, but now it’s just ugly and weird.

Stranger: Sorry.

Me: It’s not your fault. You’re just mentally ill. There is no shame in it, you just have to get the right treatment for what ails you.

Stranger: You wouldn’t understand what ails me.

Me: How so?

Stranger: I saw the alien machinery that is used to quarantine this planet in the past and keep it locked in vibrational density, and the sight of it fractured my soul. I was forced to retire. Kind of.

Me: So are you saying you don’t have a mental health disorder? That you’re totally lucid?

Stranger: That is my contention.

Me: I contend you need antipsychotics.

Stranger: Do you think I’m a fool?

Me: No. I think you’ve been fooled. By your own mind.

Stranger: Two days. You’ll see.

Me: Let’s hear the second secret. I’m getting cold.

Stranger: It’s a doozy.

Me: I want you to know that I am a man of low expectations, rock bottom expectations, really, but after that last secret I am expecting greatness from you. Sheer, life-altering greatness. If my head doesn’t literally explode I’m going to shrug and walk away mildly disappointed.

Stranger: The universe is not what it seems.

Me: I smell a conspiracy.

Stranger: The universe is alive.

Me: Oh yeah?

Stranger: Yes. It is actually a conscious organism with its own life and personality.

Me: The universe has a mind of its own?

Stranger: It just had a thought.

Me: What was it?

Stranger: You.

Me: What happens if the universe gets angry?

Stranger: What do you think black holes are for?

Me: Does the universe sleep?

Stranger: Every twenty to thirty billion years or so.

Me: What does it want? What does it do?

Stranger: It’s reaching out for a handshake.

Me: Come again?

Stranger: It’s trying to touch infinity. This is the goal of all universes. It wants to shake hands with God.

Me: All universes? How many are there?

Stranger: Too many.

Me: Can you elaborate?

Stranger: No.

Me: Alright then. Well can the universe hearing us talking about it?

Stranger: Can you hear me?

Me: Yes.

Stranger: There you go.

Me: So the universe is psychotic.

Stranger: Thoughtful.

Me: Creative?

Stranger: Yes!

Me: I have to know, who told you these secrets?

Stranger: You have to buy me dinner first.

Me: I’m broke.

Stranger: We could order Domino’s and hang out in your apartment. I’ll treat.

Me: Masks on. Except when we’re eating. And I get the couch. You sit on the recliner.

Stranger: Deal.

Me: Was I really a Nazi?

Stranger: Unfortunately, yes.

Me: So I deserve every shitty thing that has ever happened to me.

Stranger: You deserve love. And you deserve a chance to do the right thing.

Me: What’s the right thing?

Stranger: That’s up to you to figure out. I’m just the messenger.

Me: Can you give me a hint before we break bread?

Stranger: I would say the right thing is to accept, without condition, full responsibility for what you’ve done, forgive yourself for it, and then give over your whole self to the service of your brothers and sisters.

Me: Whew.

Stranger: You didn’t see this coming.

Me: I want to cry.

Stranger: Do you what you have to do, but just know that I’m an empath. If you start crying I’ll start crying along with you and we’ll both be standing in a puddle of tears.

Me: It’s too much.

Stranger: Who are you?

Me: What do you mean?

Stranger: Are you a good person?

Me: Not really.

Stranger: Of course you are. You’re just a bit…shy.

Me: What are you getting at?

Stranger: I’m getting at the fact that you may have committed atrocities in your past, but you stand before me, in this life, as a wholly decent human being who has suffered more than I can stand.

Me: Then I’ll ask you, who are you?

Stranger: You already know who I am.

Me: Can’t be. Angels like Domino’s?

Stranger: I’ve been in love ever since they changed their recipe.

Me: I don’t what to say.

Stranger: You’re cold. Let’s go order some food and talk like old friends.

Me: Are we? Old friends, I mean?

Strange: I met you in the garden. You have a beautiful soul. Now hurry up, before the universe changes its mind.