Writing Prompt #8

Before I get to the actual prompt for this week, let me remind you that you can share your responses to the prompt either in the comments on this post, or in the comments on my response. If your response to the prompt is too long, let me know in the comments and we’ll get it posted as a regular post!
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This week’s prompt: I have recently discovered a religion called Discordianism.  Whether or not this is a parody religion, no one is quite sure, but everyone is in agreement that it is rather hilarious and everyone should read about it, at least briefly (hence the link to their wiki). Anyway, parodies are a true art form, and have left us in stitches for years. So….

What in your life deserves a parody? Maybe it’s something you take too seriously. Or your friend takes too seriously. If you’re looking for some inspiration, take a look at one of my favorite parodies of all time: Body Rituals among the Nacerima. And start parody-ing!

A glyph of Eris of Discord.

2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt #8

  1. Here’s my attempt at a Parody for applying to Medical School. Thanks for prompting me to try this fun little endeavor. It really pushed me beyond my comfort zone, which was great.

    “Have a seat, Mr. Bigsby.”
    “Thank you.”
    “The Admissions Committee and I have reviewed the entirety of your application in detail,” the Director said flatly. The finality of his tone made Matt uncomfortable. He simply nodded in reply.
    “However we have not yet come to a conclusion,” said the Director as he licked his teeth. Matt’s heart plummeted.
    “Did you receive my Letters of Recommendation?” asked Matt.
    “We did.”
    “And my Curriculum Vitae?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’ve read both Supplementals? Did you review my Work History, my Dating Profile, and my Video Journal? And the poems I was required to write, you received those didn’t you?”
    “Mr. Bigsby, as I said, we have reviewed the entirety of your application. Yet before we can accept you into Medical School, there is still one more matter that must be dealt with.” Matt’s head raced, he had worked so hard just to receive an interview. What else could the school need to make a decision? He wondered if perhaps he was required to submit to a physical, as college athletes must. 
    “Do you need my medical records?”
    “We have them already, they were in your First Supplemental Application. No, the Final Evaluation is designed to determine whether or not you have the fortitude to dedicate yourself to a career that walks the line between life and death. Do you think you are ready?”
    “Yes, sir. Is this a multiple choice exam?”
    At this, the Director laughed. The sound was sharp, almost electric, and jarring. Matt winced reflexively. 
    “Yes, I suppose it is multiple choice in a way. You have two choices,” the Director continued after his laughing fit had passed. “Anyone who wants to be a doctor must be able to make life or death decisions. We find most applicants, even those as promising as yourself, do not appreciate the gravity of those decisions. This evaluation will correct that.”
    “What do I have to do?”
    “You have to kill someone.” As he said it, the hard-eyed Director could not resist a smile.
    “Is this a joke?”
    “Is medicine a joke? Is being a doctor, a joke?” the Director’s eyes flashed. “What makes you think you can save someone’s life if you can’t take one? How will you know how hard you have to work to keep someone alive until you know how hard it is to kill them?”
    “I don’t want to do this.”
    “Don’t you want to be a doctor?”
    “Yes I do, but not like that. Didn’t you tell me I had two choices? What is my other choice?”
    “Let someone kill you.”
    “This is insane!”
    “This is what it takes to be a Physician. But if you cannot keep your cool, Mr. Bigsby, and cannot make a difficult decision here, what makes you think you can do it when a person’s children are clawing at you, crying, begging you to save their mother’s life?”
    “I’m not a murderer.”
    “As a doctor you will be. Might as well come to terms with that. Sooner or later you are going to kill someone.”
    “That’s different, I’ll be trying to save them.”
    “What is the difference between trying to save someone else and killing them, and trying to save yourself and killing them? Except that in the second scenario, at least  the person you’re trying to save will survive.”
    “So its a fight to the death?”
    “The person you face will be wholly devoted to ending your life as painfully and brutally as they can.”
    “I can’t believe this is happening. This can’t be real.”
    “It is real. We are making the next generation, the best generation of doctors. No other physicians will be as dedicated to their calling as you and your colleagues will be. One life lost now will amount to dozens, perhaps hundreds more saved later. Until you push yourself to the limits, how can you know what your limits are? Once you complete this task, you will have put yourself through the most difficult endeavor one man can endure, and succeeded! There is no task you cannot accomplish if you can accomplish this.”
    “How am I supposed to do it?”
    “It will be held in the faculty gymnasium. The squash courts have been reserved.”
    “Do I get a weapon? A gun or something?”
    “No. We found applicants were more apt to take their own lives if we provided any firearms. You and your opponent will both be unarmed. But rest assured, you will have your wits, if you keep them, and they are a doctor’s greatest tool.”
    Matt did not say anything, he put his head in his hands. He felt sick and weak and hot. He tugged at his tie because he felt like it was strangling him. Strangling, he thought. Strangling...
    “What is your decision, Mr. Bigsby? Are you ready to become a doctor?”
    Matt flexed his hands into fists, feeling how hard he could squeeze, wondering how much force it took to crush someone’s windpipe.
    Without looking up, Matt finally whispered, “I’m ready.”
    “Let’s hope so. The world needs you to be.”
    

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