The Assignment

“There was only one rule: don’t open the door,” the clown in front of me grinned.

Spinning around, there were dozens of clowns in the room, with only one door for an exit. The other clowns started chanting the same rule that the first one had whined.

“I hate clowns!” I yelled. They each pulled out a drill. Running to the door, I opened it, thinking that whatever was on the other side couldn’t be worse.

On the other side of the door, I splashed into freezing cold water. My body in shock, I tried to keep from drowning. Above the water, I heard someone yell, “Sharks!” Sure enough, sharks swam eerily, with fins like death flags... waving.

Five feet away, a ship lingered with a door that said, “There was only one rule: don’t open the door,” on the front of it. “I hate sharks!” I yelled. I swam to the door, yanked it open, thinking that whatever was on the other side couldn’t be worse.

On the other side of the door, sat the parents of the girl I desperately wanted to marry. They were in an old fashioned parlor, calmly drinking tea. Soaked to the bone, they said to me, “You passed the tests, “You may have her hand in marriage!” Something didn’t seem quite right. Their heads cocked askance and their eyes rolled backwards as they were actually zombies.

“I hate zombies!” I yelled. I ran to a trapdoor in the floor, that said, “There was only one rule: don’t open the door.” Pulling it open, thinking that whatever was on the other side couldn’t be worse.

I fell a couple feet down onto a stage with a massive audience who applauded rapturously. The spotlights were bright!

“Congratulations! You’ve been selected to lead a revolution!”