Thursday, October 12, 2006


Sometimes you are posed questions that you are never going to have adaquate answers for. Maybe, even if you thought about the questions a thousand times for a thousand hours, you still wouldn't adaquate answers.

There's a game we play on long road trips and on the off days when we need to kill time. I wasn't the first one to come up with it. I can't take claim for it. I'm not actually sure where I picked it up, on the internet somewhere. Fuck Marry Kill. FMK in polite company. The premise is simple. Name three people, usually of the same sex, alive, dead, real, imaginary, any three people you could think of and have the person you are talking with decide out of the three who they would Marry, who they would One-Night Stand and who they would Kill outright. It is a variation of Death is Not an Option, but with another variable and seemingly endless variations.

I got a call from Fighting Nun today. Driver's License (That's a friend's nickname. I'm calling him Driver's License because the subject of his age was a frequent subject of debate and conversation amongst us, to the point that he had Fighting Nun convinced he was much older than he actually was, until I asked to see his Driver's License) wanted Fighting Nun to ask me a rather serious question of the upmost urgency. Of the following people, who would I Fuck, Marry, and Kill? The people were Mr. Burns, Donald Trump, Larry King. I was pretty dumbfounded by the choices. I couldn't talk for a moment. My answer went like this: "I'd marry Larry King because he's got a bum ticker and could keel over at any moment, I'd Fuck Donald Trump (God Help Me!) and I'd Kill Mr. Burns because I remember too much about the episode where he was naked and yee-ach." Fighting Nun and Driver's License wanted to debate my choices and there relative merits, but we're all three at our respective jobs so we didn't have time to mull over the matter. I said we'd continue the conversation over beers and buffalo wings at Hooters. I hung up but started thinking about it more.

At first I thought my answer should've been: I'd Marry Larry King because his marriages have the life expectancy of a fruit fly anyway, plus the bum ticker (and hasn't he had as many marriages as by-passes? What is that about anyway?) I'd Fuck Mr. Burns (which, God Help Me!) and I'd kill Mr. Trump with his own hair, because Heh!

But now I'm aware that it's a trick question and that my answer should've been: I'd kill myself before I'd have to make that choice. Because Ye-ach! Shudder. Maybe the real answer is in the trite T-shirt many of the death-metal kids wore at my school "Kill 'em all. Let God sort 'em out." Which brings up an interesting question: If God was faced with the eternal question of FMK between Larry King, Mr. Burns and Donald Trump, what would God do? No, What Would Jesus Do?

I'm kind of convinced that Jesus would marry Donald Trump so that they could talk about their respective hair styles in The Great Beyond. I'm sort of convinced Jesus would kill off Mr. Burns, but I'm not so sure. I'm not sure that Jesus and Larry King would make great bedfellows. That just seems awkward. I'm now inundated with visuals of Larry King and Jesus spooning, with Jesus's hair all in Larry King's mouth. It's not a pretty visual, I have to say.

So now I'm stuck with more questions than answers. And a Larry King cuddling up to Jesus on a bear rug. I think I might have to go pray now.

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