Gremlin Resitas: The Suffering Disposal Protocol
Suffering and I are acquainted.
Not friends.
Not coworkers.
Not even neighbors who occasionally wave while taking the trash out.
Acquainted.
It has shown up often enough that I recognize the bastard on sight.
And somewhere along the way, people decided suffering is supposed to teach you something.
Build character.
Make you stronger.
Give you perspective.
Blah, blah, blah.
That's wonderful.
I've received the lesson.
Class dismissed.
From this point forward, unnecessary suffering will be handled according to the Gremlin Resitas Suffering Disposal Protocol.
First, place suffering into a bag.
Then place that bag into another bag.
Then, because suffering has demonstrated an irritating tendency to escape containment, put that bag into a third bag.
Three bags.
No exceptions.
Then retrieve...
The Brick.
DUN DUN DUUUUUUN.
The brick is important.
Not because we're going to do anything with it.
Of course not.
That would be ridiculous.
The brick merely sits there.
Menacingly.
It exists so suffering understands that we have considered additional options.
Suffering may look at me.
Then at the bags.
Then at the brick.
Then back at me.
"Wait."
Yes?
"Are those the three bags?"
Yup.
"And... is that the brick?"
YUP.
"...Well then, cya!"
Excellent.
THE SYSTEM WORKS.
Unfortunately, we're probably never going to eliminate suffering entirely.
Some of it comes bundled free with the Human Being™ subscription package.
Sickness.
Loss.
Accidents.
Disappointment.
Mortality.
Stubbed toes.
And discovering that the thing you wanted somehow costs THIRTY-ONE FUCKING DOLLARS BEFORE THE TIP.
But then there's another category.
A particularly irritating category.
Manufactured bullshit.
People treating each other terribly.
Systems creating problems that nobody fucking needed.
Somebody having a bad day and deciding:
"You know what? Everybody else should have one too!"
Petty cruelty.
Needless hostility.
Pointless drama.
Entire fucking side quests generated because somebody couldn't simply STOP BEING SHIT FOR FIVE MINUTES.
And that suffering?
We could make considerably less of it.
Maybe listen occasionally.
Maybe don't kick somebody while they're already down.
Maybe help when helping costs practically nothing.
Maybe admit when we're wrong.
Maybe realize the person standing in front of us isn't an NPC procedurally generated by the universe specifically to inconvenience us.
Revolutionary concepts, apparently.
I don't worship suffering.
I don't believe misery automatically makes somebody profound.
I don't believe every terrible thing happens because the universe has some beautiful lesson hidden inside it.
Sometimes...
SHIT. JUST. HAPPENS.
Sometimes people make shit happen.
Sometimes you make shit happen.
And sometimes you do everything you're supposed to do and life still kicks open your front door carrying a fresh bag of bullshit like:
"HEY! GOT YOUR GROCERIES!"
FAAAAAAAK!
But when that happens?
You deal with it.
You adapt.
When the battlefield changes...
CHANGE THE FUCKING MISSION.
You keep moving.
Not because suffering deserves your respect.
Not because you need to thank it for the experience.
Not because "everything happens for a reason."
You keep moving because suffering doesn't get to own you.
I've had enough surprises.
Enough bullshit.
Enough moments staring at the ceiling wondering:
"Okay... what fresh nonsense is waiting around the corner THIS time?"
And yet...
I'm still here.
That's the important part.
Suffering and I are acquainted.
Oh, do I know it well.
I simply don't intend to make the bastard comfortable.
So when suffering inevitably wanders back around and knocks on my door, there won't be some grand dramatic speech.
I'll open the door.
Suffering will look at me.
I'll look at suffering.
Long, uncomfortable silence.
Then I'll slowly reach behind the door.
Rustle.
One bag.
Rustle.
Second bag.
RUSTLE.
Third bag.
Suffering's eyes widen.
"Oh, come on..."
Then...
THUNK.
The brick lands on the table.
Suffering stares at it.
Then at me.
Then at the three bags.
"...Seriously?"
Seriously.
"Those are the bags?"
All three.
"...And that's the brick?"
You know damn well that's the brick.
Another long silence.
Suffering slowly begins backing toward the door.
"You know what? I just remembered I have somewhere else to be."
Oh?
"Yep."
Somewhere important?
"Extremely."
Thought so.
Suffering reaches the doorway.
Stops.
Looks back at me.
"So... we're good?"
I point toward the brick.
THUNK.
Suffering nods.
"Right. Well then..."
"...cya!"
Good choice.
And don't forget your complimentary parting gift:
A VERY SPECIFIC AND UNWELCOMING BAG OF CACTUSES.
Now...
Go chomp a cactus.
—Jerry "The Ankle-Biter" Silverhand