New Logo! Also, since it's been so long, if you're interested in the previous installments of this series, you can follow
this link.
This post is way different than any of my other Twist Ending stories. Usually I have the first half be true, while the second half is fiction. This time, this story actually contains multiple real-life incidents that actually happened to me while at work, but they are all told within a completely fictional framework. These incidents are all very similar, so I decided I'd combine them into one long story.
The grocery store where I work occasionally holds fund-raising drives for various causes. Childhood illnesses, military veterans, disaster victims, etc. Every time we do these, the vast majority of people do not donate. And I am perfectly fine with that. I actually don't really even like asking people to donate to things, it's just kind of awkward all around.
However, awkwardness is no excuse for rudeness. To me, the most appropriate response to being asked to donate to something for which you might not feel you have the money, or whatever reason, is to just say, "No thank you," politely, and move on with the transaction.
That is not what (far too) many people do, and those people are why this post came to be.
~
"Hear ye, hear ye! Court is now in session!" A towering, angelic-looking man with four arms, wearing flowing white robes, stepped up to the bench and addressed the sea of people before him. He was at least 6 feet taller than anyone in attendance, and seemed even taller from his place behind the bench.
"For those of you afraid that this is the afterlife, and that this is your final judgement day, don't worry! This is nothing like that! Well,
mostly nothing like that! This court is closer in relation to the human concept of karma, than of actual judgement. I am a judge here, but the cases I see are all strictly petty in nature, and none of them deal with anything even close to the kinds of cases my colleagues over in Finals see in their courts."
The judge sat down, but still towered over the people in front of him. "All right! All of you here today were pulled from your current time and place, moments after your transgressions took place. You are here to bear witness to your 'crimes,' and to hear your judgement in person, but you will not be permitted to defend yourself, as we have complete omniscience in all matters pertaining to your case. We know your every motivation and action, from the moment your offence took place, to now. We know what you would say to defend yourself, and we have already rejected it."
The judge began rifling through some papers on his desk, using all four arms, and pulled out a large file, opening it with his lower set of arms, while gesturing with his upper set. "When your case has been heard, and your judgement delivered, you will be put back exactly where you were when you were taken, and you will have no memory of these events. However, when you experience your judgement, or 'karma' as it were, you will experience something like a memory, and you will know exactly why your fate, whatever it is, has befallen you."
The judge started pulling papers out of the file with his upper arms, and examined them, making a stack on his desk. The number of papers in the stack was quickly surpassing the number of papers that the file seemed to hold, but he still had more. "I see that I have a surprisingly large number of cases that are the same, and this first bunch are all quite mild. It looks like the defendants in these cases will all be let off with more or less a warning. If I call your name, please approach the bench."
The judge, apparently calling a great many of their their names at once, said something that no one could understand, except, it seemed, for the people he was addressing. Dozens of people stood up at once, and they all stepped forward. "Okay, I think we can get all these over with at once. Every case here is relatively the same, let's review the evidence."
Behind the bench, a massive screen appeared, and dozens of videos, all showing the accused, began playing simultaneously. However, on every screen, the exact same scenario played out, and the exact same dialogue was spoken. The defendants were all customers at the same store. Their purchases had been rung up, and the cashier was asking them all almost the same question.
"Would you like to donate to, (and here the audio was overlapped as several different charities were named) today?"
"No," the customers replied, "I'm good." And here the videos ended.
"No, I'm good," the judge repeated, staring at the dozens of people before him. "No, I'm good. Do any of you hear the irony in that statement? Had you simply stopped at no, and preferably a no thank you, you wouldn't be here today. However, adding, "I'm good" to a refusal, polite or otherwise, to give to a child with cancer, or a hungry family, or victims of a storm, shows a complete lack of self awareness on your parts, bordering on a lack of empathy.
You may be good, but those for whom the charity is collecting, definitely are not."
The judge picked up his stack of papers with his upper right hand, and began looking through them before continuing. "I know that most of you probably didn't think anything of that statement when you made, it, you just wanted to get your transaction over with and move on with your day. But those statements do not go unnoticed, and I really just want to make you aware of how you sound when you use them."
Using his lower arms, the judge began typing at a computer that had suddenly appeared before him, while while flipping through his papers with his upper arms. "In a minute I will be sending you all back to the moments you were pulled from. You won't remember your time here, but you will be acutely aware of your words, any time you use that particular phrase."
The judge finished typing and looked out at the people before him. "None of you will be able to say 'I'm good' anymore without cringing a little inside, even in benign situations. Eventually you will not be able to say it at all." He set down the papers, which immediately vanished. "Thank you," he said, gesturing with his upper right arm, "You're all dismissed." And with that, the crowd vanished.
Once again the judge began removing a massive stack of papers from his file. Holding the stack in his lower arms, he flipped through it with his upper arms, removing papers as he went. "Okay, looks like we're going to do another batch judgment. However, these ones won't be getting off as lightly as the last one." He repeated his call from earlier, and again, dozens, if not hundreds of people all stood up at once. In fact, most of the courtroom stood up at once, leaving just a few individuals still seated.
The crowd of people all approached the bench together, and as before, the same screen appeared and began playing in unison. This scenario was almost exactly the same as before, up until the customers' reply. All of them were variations on the same thought. "No thanks, I've already donated." "No, I donated yesterday." "Oh, I donated the last time you guys asked."
The screen vanished and the judge turned around and stared at the defendants. "Really? You expect us to believe that? You already donated? Not even the cashiers believed that." Across the crowd of people, several faces began turning red with embarrassment.
The judge continued. "Half of you said you donated 'last week,' or 'yesterday,' when the charity drive hadn't even started yet. If you're going to lie, at least make it believable." Using his lower arms, he began typing at the computer again, as he looked through the stack of papers in his upper hands.
"All of you committed variations of the same act of dishonesty, so all of you will be receiving variation on the same judgement," he said, still typing, and looking through the files. "All of you will be the victims of some very minor instances of dishonesty. Some of you will get tiny door dings on your cars from people who will not leave notes. Some of you will drop money, just something small, like a five or ten, and someone will see it happen and just keep it."
The judge finished typing and set down his papers, which once again vanished as they left his hand. "None of your karmic sentences will be earth shattering, just minor inconveniences. And from now on, you will feel more than a little guilt should you lie to a charity in the future, and eventually you will be unable to lie, and your default reaction will be to just donate immediately. Thank you, you're all dismissed." And the crowd was gone.
"Okay, that brings us to the individual cases," the judge said. It looks like we just have three today. I'd say that's good, but really, that's three too many. Justin Patterson! Approach the bench!" A young man slowly approached the bench, as the screen behind the judge began to play.
In this video, the cashier finished the man's transaction and began to ask that old familiar question, "Would you like to donate-“
“NO!” the young man snapped angrily, interrupting the cashier who looked stunned.
The screen vanished and the judge just stared at the man. "Really?" That's how you respond to someone who was asking you to donate to a children's' hospital? There are children literally dying in your own state, in your own town, and you angrily refuse to help them, while at the same time berating someone who was just doing their job? Shame on you. Shame, shame, shame on you. Your punishment will be far more psychological than the others'.
He began typing again, but he stared at the man the entire time, not even looking at the paper in his hand. "From now on, every time you see a sick child, whether on TV or in real life, the scene we saw today will play back in your mind. The only way to relieve yourself of the guilt will be to donate to another charity. You will lie awake at night, unable to sleep until your guilt has been assuaged. And that won't happen before you donate far more than you were being asked at the grocery store." He finished typing, still looking directly at the man, and he set down the paper which vanished.. "Dismissed." he said pointedly, and the man was gone.
"Hiram Daniels!" the judge called, pulling out another file. "Approach the bench!" Once again the screen appeared and a new scene began to play. The elderly man approaching the bench was in a grocery store with a younger woman, his daughter.
"Look dad," the woman said pointing out a sign by the checkout. "They are collecting donations for victims of that hurricane in Texas. Do you want to donate $5?"
"No! I'm not doing that!" the man abruptly replied.
"Dad!" his daughter was taken aback. "You've got a daughter down there!"
"So?" the man snapped back. "She's not getting flooded!"
"Dad!"
"What!? Nobody gave me money when my house got flooded! Why should I?"
"Why should I?" The judge turned around as the screen vanished behind him. "Why should you help total strangers in need? Because it's the right thing to do! It doesn't matter if no one helped you. If someone refused to help you, they will have their own day in court. You are responsible for yourself, and yourself alone."
The room began to slowly get darker. "Your judgement will be of your own doing. Your selfishness will be your downfall." In the distance, thunder faintly rumbled and the judge continued, slowly rising out of his chair. "Slowly but surely the people around you will realize how terrible your behavior is, and slowly but surely they will distance themselves from you."
The judge seemed to have gained several feet as he now towered over the old man in the quickly darkening room. "Finally, when you are all alone, you will die, lonely and friendless, with no one there to mourn your loss." Thunder crashed around them and the room was almost pitch black, save for the judge, who seemed to be eerily lit from below.
The old man stared at the judge in horror.
"Was that too much? That was probably too much," the judge said as the lights flicked back on and the thunder abruptly ceased. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do." He sat down and began typing as before. "No, you won't die alone, but you will push people away. Once you start losing people, you will vaguely remember the circumstances in my original judgement, and out of fear that something similar will happen, you will be forced to come to terms with the kind of person you have become. You will seek out those you have wronged to make amends, and you will be forced to humble yourself and ask for their forgiveness."
He finished typing and set down the man's paper which vanished. "In addition, whenever you see a donation drive for hurricane victims, no matter where in the world it's happening, you will guiltily remember the scene we just watched, and you will donate twice the maximum of what the charity is requesting. Dismissed!" And the man was gone.
"Okay, on to the last case!" the judge said, holding up the final sheet. "Janice McMurphy! Approach the bench!"
A middle aged woman slowly approached the bench as the screen appeared once more, showing one last scene at the grocery store.
“Would you like to donate milk to the local food bank?” the cashier asked the woman, as they finished her transaction.
“Sure, I guess," she replied. "How much is it?”
"It depends on how much you want to donate," the cashier explained. “We have options for $2 for a half gallon, or $4 for one gallon.”
“What?" the woman exclaimed incredulously. "Forget it!" she glared at the cashier. "That’s ridiculous! You can buy a gallon of skim milk for $1.69!”
“Well, they don’t actually send specific kinds of milk to the food banks," the cashier replied, taken aback by the woman's sudden attitude. "They send out vouchers to the food banks to give to families who need them.”
“I don’t care," the woman snapped. "That’s insane. $4.00 for milk? I’m not wasting my money on that when they could get skim for $1.69. No. Forget it. What’s my total?”
The screen vanished and the judge glared at the woman who turned red, and then paled. "I have seen a lot in my 4000 years on this bench, but somehow, some people still manage to surprise me. Not only were you downright rude to your checker, but you tried to dictate how a charity uses the funds that they collect. Or worse, what kind of products those in need are allowed to have. What happens if someone has a dairy allergy? What if they have a malnourished child who needs the whole milk? Why should they be forced to drink skim milk simply because you didn't want to donate a higher amount? The selfishness of some people still manages surprise me in the absolutely bizarre ways that it can manifest itself in them."
The judge turned to his computer once again and began to type. "For your punishment, I feel like I need to get creative. For starters, you're going to develop a dairy allergy. You're either going to have to start buying the most expensive, lactose-free milk, or some other expensive and/or disgusting milk substitute. Either that or your going to have to buy a lot of probiotics, and those things are not cheap. Next, you are going to start meeting people exactly like you at your own job. A lot of them. They will be rude, dismissive, and just plain angry. It will happen every day, and will continue until you realize that these people are behaving exactly like you. You will be forced to come to terms with your own terrible behavior, and as you change yourself, those around you will change as well. Lastly, you will no longer be able to resist any charity. Every time you see a food drive, or donation box, you will remember the terrible interaction we just witnessed, and your shame will compel your generosity. Soon that new generous attitude will spread to other areas, and you will be donating to homeless shelters and clothing drives, and volunteering at food banks and hospitals. Eventually you will become a completely new person, and the person you once were, will only exist as a dark flicker in the back of your memory. Sometimes you will think of her, wince in quiet shame, and move on with your life, vowing to never go back to being that wretched person again. Dismissed."
The woman vanished and the judge was left alone in his courtroom. He set down her paper, which rose upward, as the previous papers reappeared beneath it. The judge gathered up the papers and returned them to his file. He typed some notes into his computer and checked his calendar. "Oh great," he muttered to himself. "I've got the nursing home cases tomorrow." He rolled his eyes. "Those are always a treat." And with that, he was gone.
