I think we can all agree not nearly enough people are being thrown off cliffs these days.
I know for sure the ancient Greeks would agree. They used to toss people off cliffs on a regular basis and they didn’t have near the social issues we do.
Take unruly teenagers, for example.
The ancient Greeks had a rule about teenage girls attending the Olympics. The rule was they couldn’t. That was because the men competed naked. The reasons why they competed naked has been lost to posterity, but it was all that naked male posterity so to speak that the Greeks in Charge feared would give rise to impure thoughts and deeds amongst impressionable young women.
Hence, the ban.
Problem was, precocious little rebels that they were, girls snuck into the games any way.
Fling!
They tossed one off a cliff.
No judge. No jury. No pleading her case. They just marched her up a mountain next to the games and Fling! Off she went.
Apparently, not everyone got the message.
Fling! Off went the next offender. They probably tossed a few more for good measure.
Fling! Fling! Fling!
Word got around.
Not only did cliff flinging guarantee a zero percent recidivism rate, but it worked wonders on even the most hard headed teenage offenders. They stayed home during the games. Chastity preserved.
Fast forward a thousand years or so and just think what a simple application of gravity would do for our teenagers.
Wanna disrupt the classroom and threaten the teacher.
Fling!
Wanna bully the little guys?
Fling!
Go ahead. Cuss your parents.
Fling!
What about automobile jerks?
Wanna blast your car stereo at a million decibels during bumper-to-bumper traffic?
Fling!
Wanna drive twenty miles per hour under the speed limit in the fast lane?
Fling!
No kidding, I was once caught in a huge line of traffic that was crawling down a one-lane road. After several minutes of this, I was beyond homicidal. I cursed a blue streak that doppler shifted to red from the sheer intensity of my rage. When the road split into two lanes I stomped the gas. I couldn’t wait to pull alongside the jerk who had been holding up traffic. I saw the car. I limbered up my middle finger. I was about to deploy it. I pulled my hand back.
The driver was my grandmother.
Fling!
Hey big pharma, wanna hike up the price of prescription medicine to a point King Midas would have to put together a bridge loan just to finance it?
Fling.
Actually, a simple flinging isn’t good enough for the big pharma crowd. Here’s an example why: A friend of mine has a rare disease that only one, small pharmaceutical company made the drug for. He will die without it. It cost him forty bucks a month. Another company bought out the small company that made his drug and raised the price to (and I am not kidding) $3,400 per month.
Emphasis on: He will die without it!.
I think a dangle over the edge a few times first then fling protocol should be adopted for dirtbags like that is in order.
As someone highly allergic to bee venom, we might as well go ahead and toss the epi-pen crowd, too.
What about congressmen who delay stimulus checks to desperate Americans so they can imbed funding for pet projects into relief packages?
Democrat – Fling!
Republican – Fling!
Speaking of Congress, I would enact the “Lottery Fling.” As long as they are not getting anything done because of partisan bickering, pick a congressperson by lottery each month and fling them off the nearest cliff. Remind the rest of them that we are paying their salaries and we are a little tired of not getting anything for it.
Problem solved.
I vote we broadcast the flingings on cable and the internet. Have a pretty girl who’s job it is to tell folks a little about the flingee and the details of their offense.
“Next up on the cliff of justice is, ironically, named Cliff,” she says smiling perkily. “Cliff Evans, that is, of 4213 Elm Street, Columbia. Cliff is a 32 year old father of two who was caught in the drive through line at Burger King making seven different orders for himself and six people from work who were not with him.” She frowns for the camera. “Instead of going inside to get all those orders filled, Cliff chose to make the people behind him in the drive thru wait thirty-seven minutes.”
The audience in the bleachers near the cliff gasp as one. There are boos and cat calls. A few of the words are bleeped.
The hostess frowns deeply. “Three drivers stuck in line behind him went clinically insane.”
Our hostess considers the crowd a moment, then turns back to the camera. She is smiling again. “In today’s giveaway, if Cliff lands on the Wadford Travel Agency logo at the bottom of the cliff, the Bowers family of West Columbia – mom, Theresa, dad, Chad and the little ones Mary and Will win an all expense paid vacation to Myrtle Beach!”
The crowd cheers.
The excitement mounts!
A drum roll sounds from a set of giant speakers.
Lights! Camera! Action!
Fling!
Fraudulent and Flatulent 