Big Brother Out Of Control

( A spoof?  Yes.  But one worth giving some serious thought to — just in case.)

Presidential Seal - chocolateBIG BROTHER OUT OF CONTROL

He pulled the plastic sandwich bag from his pocket and shook out the contents onto a small plate. He looked at it hopefully. One half-piece of chocolate left – and crumbs. He’d gather the crumbs first, pressing his finger onto them and licking them off. He didn’t want to miss one tidbit. Then he’d take time savoring the larger piece itself.

Since enforcement of the President’s War On Obesity, the total ban on chocolate had driven him mad. He would never have believed the government could get away with making it illegal for people to eat chocolate – or a number of other foods. Of course, that was their way around it: they claimed that the products on the banned list were not “real foods,” but simply agents of disease due to their extraordinarily high content of fat and sugar.

It had all started with the seat-belt laws. He had said himself that once the government could control whether you wore a belt across your body in your own private car, they would eventually control all kinds of things: how many hours you had your lights on at night, what you could eat, what you could wear, etc.

But even in his own imagination, he’d never dreamed things would go this far – or that so much of the public would agree to it and actually help enforce it. He couldn’t believe all his friends and family members who said this new law was a good thing and who actually called and reported people who didn’t comply with it!

Well, he was alone now. His sister, who shared the house with him, was one of those who had been brainwashed into believing the law was good, but she was going to be gone the rest of the day. So …. He breathed a deep sigh of relief and sat down to the table, prepared to enjoy this treat.

Suddenly the kitchen door swung open, and before he could turn around to see who had entered, his sister shouted, “You have chocolate!” He jumped up and tried to hide the plate behind his body.

“What are you doing home? You went shopping over in Springfield.”

“Never mind about me. What are you doing with chocolate? And don’t bother to try to hide it now. You know it’s against the law. Where did you get it?”

“Look, Sis —”

“Are you going to throw it away?”

“No! I’m not going to waste good food!”

“Food? Ha! Give me that,” she said as she tried to reach behind him for the plate.

“No! It’s mine!”

“All right,” she said, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. “You leave me no choice.”

“What are you doing?”

“Reporting you to the police, of course,” she answered, turning her back on him to ignore the protests she expected.

He glanced around wildly. He had to do something right now. There … on the wall. The iron skillet.

He made the move before he had time to talk himself out of it. And in one swift, fluid motion, he managed to strike her before she’d finished dialing.

He reached down and picked up the phone from where it lay beside her body on the floor and punched the “End call” button. Okay … He was safe.

He turned back to the table and took time to sit down and settle his breathing before lifting the plate and inhaling the intoxicating fragrance again.

“Some things,” he whispered, “are just too valuable to lose.”



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