305-word post, or “Who The Hell Are We?”

“Okay, so once there was a carrot. And he was sitting in a crisper in the bottom of a fridge and he got to thinking: ‘What the hell is this all about,’ he thought. ‘Is this all there is?’

“Well, he had no eyes in the conventional sense, but from time to time, his periods of contemplation in the dark were broken up when blinding light would envelop him.”

“’What the hell is going on?!’ he would always say when this happened, for indeed he had no idea what was going on, but somehow his carrot brain knew it was hell, and that it was an ongoing thing. “

“So, one day, this light stayed on long enough for him to sense that he wasn’t in the crisper any more. ‘Where the hell am I now?’ said the carrot.”

“He had no idea that he’d been lifted out of the crisper by the HANDS of the PERSON who had BOUGHT HIM from the GROCERY STORE. All those concepts were too wild for his carrot mind, as was the concept of being julienned.”

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“’Who the hell are you guys?’ he said to the pile of himself growing in size as he himself grew smaller.”

“’Who the hell are YOU?’ replied the pile of himself to the carrot. But by this point, the carrot himself was the pile… and he had only one question: ‘Who the hell are we?’

And with that, Father Pearson completed his ‘crisper of life’ sermon. “Good job,” he thought as he stumbled over from the pulpit back to the altar, tripping over an altar boy on his way.

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