“I’d like to speak to the manager, please,” she said, politely.
“Why?” he asked.
“Are you the manager?”
“Then obviously, you are not the person I …”
“I’ll get him. Stay here.”
“Why would I go away?”
“How should I know?”
A tall, lanky, man came out from a back room.
“How can I help you?” he asked, smiling.
“Your sign is a lie and you need to take it down.”
“It’s not a lie, and I paid a fortune for it. I’m not taking it down.”
“There are a billion things that are impossible. Let me see you fly.”
“Without a plane or hang glider.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you saying that it’s impossible for humans to fly without a plane, or device.”
“Count backward from a million in twenty seconds. Start….NOW,” she said, looking at the timer on her phone.
He stared at her.”
“Can’t do that either, can you,” she said. “How about this one: get pregnant, then try and get an abortion in Texas.”
“Okay, so everything isn’t possible. What’s your point?”
“My point IS, that there are MORE things that are impossible for us to DO, than there are things we can do. Let me see you stop war, or hatred. How about stopping disease, or aging, or death. How about making the world a place filled with friendship, and equality, a paradise for animals. Can you stop all violence on earth. Turn people into gardeners for the earth. Bring back our ancestors, so we can put them on trial for crimes against humanity.”
“What do you want from me?” asked the manager, tiredly.
“I want you to stop telling lies and take down the sign.”
“No. Not a chance.”
“Have it your way,” she said, waking toward the door.
“What do you think she meant by that, boss?”
Once outside, she cackled with glee, and released her flying monkeys.
And that, my dear friends, was the end of the sign that told a lie. Oh, one more thing. The manager, started walking with a limp that very night, but surely that can’t have anything to do with him refusing to take down the sign, right?”