Bookshelf Battle

PREVIOUSLY ON BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER AND THE MEANING OF LIFE…

Our hero, BQB dies on the toilet, much like Elvis except with more lightning.  He returns to life after being advised by William Shakespeare to seek the meaning of life.  Thus far, all he has managed to do is eat cornflakes while resting his butt on a prescription donut pillow whilst being lectured by the greatest detective of all time.

READ PARTS 1-5

PART 6             PART 8          PART 10

PART 7              PART 9

AND NOW BQB AND THE MEANING OF LIFE CONTINUES…

“Look,” I said. “I’m not an idiot. I realize Blandie is never coming back. But she was an important part of my life for years. So what if I keep a picture of her around?”

“Prominently displayed on the wall behind your kitchen table,” Holmes said.

“And so what if I changed my life for her?” I asked. “Maybe she was the reason in the beginning, but after awhile, I stayed in the business world because I believed there was a better chance of success for me as a businessman than as a writer. Everyone who can push a pencil thinks he can write. I thought at least in business there would not be as much competition. I had no idea the economy would tank and a lousy assistant’s assistant job would be all I could find.

“And every day you wonder what would have been had you taken the time you spent rising to a go-nowhere job at Beige Corp. and applied it to your love of the English language,” Holmes said.

Average Beige Corp employee.

I banged my forehead against the table with a thud.

“Yes,” I said. “You’re right. Every day of my life I wonder exactly that.”

“I’ve done it again, Watson!”

“You’ve solved the case, Holmes?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Holmes said. “Elementary! Mr. Bookshelf’s testicles now reside in a mason jar prominently displayed on his ex-girlfriend’s night stand!”

“Highly unlikely, Holmes.”

“I’m speaking metaphorically, man!”

“You know, Old Sports,” Gatsby chimed in. “Some of us are trying to read the funny papers.”

“Guys,” I said. “I appreciate you trying to help. But that isn’t even what’s been bothering me lately.”

“Then please, Mr. Bookshelf,” Watson said. “Unload your burden on our ears, sir. It is the least we can do for the room and board you provide us.”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” I said.

“We’ve seen many unbelievable things,” Holmes said.

I sighed.

“After the toilet incident, I briefly died,” I said. “I found myself in God’s waiting room, where William Shakespeare, the greatest writer of our common language, informed me that he had been appointed as my spiritual guide. He then told me that the best experience man can hope for is a brief, fleeting moment of contentment, and that can only be provided by discovering the meaning of life, the path toward which I will find in a most annoying manner.”

Holmes, Watson, and Gatsby all shot blank stares in my general direction.

“Sounds like somebody needs to lay off the goofy juice, Old Sport.”

“You guys don’t believe me?” I asked.

“Mr. Bookshelf,” Holmes said. “My archenemy is a traitorous university professor. Watson and I once encountered a case that involved allegations of a murderous ghost dog. Your claim of meeting the Bard after dying in your latrine does not provide me with any doubt whatsoever. Watson and I shall gladly help you solve this mystery.”

“Indeed we shall,” Watson said.

“It will be even greater than the case we just solved moments ago,” Holmes said. “The Case of the Meaning of Life!”

“I always thought it was to eat a balanced diet, perform your calisthenics without fail, and when in doubt, swallow a heaping table spoon of cod liver oil,” Watson said.

“You’re thinking of how to live a clean life,” Holmes said. “We’re talking about the meaning of life.”

“Party all day and convince others you’re better than they think you are, Young Duffer,” Monroe said.

“That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” I replied.

“Bark! Bark! Bark!”

Unnoticed by me, Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog had left the kitchen and made his way to the living room.

“Now then, Watson,” Holmes said. “We must return to the bookshelf and consult Mr. Bookshelf’s volumes pertaining to science, religion, philosophy, and spirituality.”

“BARK! BARK! BARK!”

Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog’s barks grew louder and louder.

“A wise course of action, Holmes,” Watson said. “Surely some scholar has expounded upon the meaning of life.”

“BARK! BARK! BARK!”

“Battle Dog!” I yelled. “Keep it down in there!”

“Devise a list of noted philosophers, Watson,” Holmes said. “We will start with the modern thinkers and work our way backwards until…”

“BARK! BARK! BARK!”

“I say,” Holmes said. “Is it possible to shut that hound’s mouth…his incessant yammering is really most…”

Holmes and I looked at each other, smiled, then said it together.

“ANNOYING!

Surely you are brimming with anticipation over the next part of BQB and the Meaning of Life!  Stop begging.  You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Oh Sir Arthur Conan Doyle please forgive me.