Good evening! The gummies turned out rather well, if I may say so myself.

Homemade strawberry heart- and lip-shaped gummy candy

I wrote a story. I have a lot of reservations about posting it on the Internet, but I'm trying to conquer my fears. The original concept for the story was not mine, but I was given permission to run with it.

Here we go.

It’s a Terrible Life

Chad is an asshole. He will argue otherwise. He will spend hours collating data to prove that you are wrong. He has the time for it. He works 20 hours a week for a nonprofit, so the majority of his days are spent sleeping and arguing with nameless, faceless enemies on the Internet. Everything that Chad reads that he disagrees with enrages him. He will walk up to random tables at restaurants and explain why other patrons should be eating vegan. Very few people like Chad, including his own friends and family.

Chad goes to the Women’s March to prove what a woke social justice warrior he is. He makes signs that say #METOO and TIME’S UP. Chad is so busy following the picket line around the Capitol that he doesn’t notice himself veering into traffic. The last thing he sees as he looks up from his off-brand Android is the front of a bus six inches from his face.

The next thing Chad knows, he is standing in front of a gate of fire. It’s pretty fucking hardcore. He used to be into that kind of thing, but not anymore. His bachelor’s degree in sociology with an emphasis in women’s studies has made him aware of how derogatory this toxic masculinity is to women.

Chad hears someone clear his throat next to him. He turns. Shit. It’s a giant three-headed dog. Cerberus, if he remembers correctly from his wannabe rockstar adolescent days. Is Cerberus the gatekeeper to the underworld? He can’t remember.

One of the dog’s mouths opens and a booming voice emerges. “Chad Sanborn, do you know why you are here?”

Chad’s voice sounds squeakier than he would have liked. “Well, where is here? That’s actually a complicated question if you think about it in a metaphysical sense. For instance--”

The dog-thing cuts him off. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Chad. You are always so goddamn insufferable. That’s why you’re here. At the gates of Hell.”

Chad’s eyes open so wide that his entire irises show. “That’s impossible. Heaven and Hell are constructs of religion to brainwash the sheeple--”

Cerberus cuts him off again. “Chad, what kind of effect do you feel that you have had on the world? Have your good deeds outweighed the bad? Do you feel like your existence is justified?”

Chad sputters indignantly. “Well, of course my effect on the world has been positive. I voted for Bernie Sanders. I’ve marched in every protest in my city for the past two years. I work for a nonprofit!”

The dog laughs. Not just a little. It laughs hysterically. He laughs hysterically? Chad is unsure of the creature’s sexual orientation and gender identity. He wants to ask it to clarify, but senses that this is the wrong time.

“Chad, you are a one in a million. Don’t get cocky about that. You’re not fucking special, and you don’t get a participation trophy. What I mean by that is that you have had absolutely no effect on the world around you. Zero. I could go through the It’s a Wonderful Life bullshit and take you on a tour of what things would look like if you had never been born, but it would be exactly the same.”

Chad is dumbfounded. “I...that can’t be possible. What about the time when I was twelve that I told my brother I wished he were dead? That has to be a mark towards the negative column, right? I mean, I can see the universe being better off without me, but...to have absolutely no effect on the world? What is...was...the point of my existence, then?”

Cerberus smiles faintly at Chad. Well, he thinks it’s a smile. Only the head that talks is smiling. The other two heads are still glaring at him.

“Chad, when was the last time you did something good for another human being on a one-on-one basis? Have you ever helped an old woman cross the street, or given food to a homeless person?”

“I believe that they prefer to be called--”

“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE CHAD!!!” The dog thing takes a minute to compose itself. “Chad, what would you do differently if you could go back?”

Chad looks dumbfounded again. “Well, I guess...I always thought about joining the Peace Corps, but they send you so far away, and it’s such a huge time commitment…” He trails off.

Cerberus, for the first time, talks to Chad softly. “And do you feel satisfied with your life the way it is right now?”

Chad bursts into tears. “No. I hate my job. I know that I should love it, but...I’m so bored. And I’m so angry all the time. That’s why I argue with everyone. My friends. My family. Random people I disagree with on the Internet. I don’t feel like my life is going anywhere, you know?”

The dog-creature cocks its heads at Chad. “If I gave you a second chance, would you go back and change things, or continue with your meaningless existence?”

Chad perks up. “You mean...like now?”

“No, Chad, in five fucking years. This is your last chance. If you would like to stay in the first circle of Hell for all eternity, you can also do that. It’s Limbo, so that’s not much better than the trite life you had going on before, but what the hell do I know.”

Chad takes a deep breath. “Yes. I’ll go back and make my life mean something. I choose to have a purpose.”

Then he blacks out.

Chad wakes up on the ground in front of the bus. The driver is babbling semi-incoherently about stopping just in time as he helps Chad up. Chad examines his body for signs of injury, but there appear to be none. Not even a bruise or a scratch. None of the other protesters, many of whom he considers friends, have come to his aid.

Chad walks across the street before he can change his mind. He keeps walking. He walks three miles to his apartment, and immediately logs into his computer to apply for the Peace Corps. He hears back in only a few weeks, and is given an assignment to help teach people how to purify drinking water in Haiti. He is scared. He is happy. He feels something other than anger for the first time in years.

On the day he leaves for Haiti, Chad packs only the essentials. He sees a man sitting on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign asking for money. Chad brings him a hamburger from the fast food chain next door. The man tells Chad to go fuck himself. Chad laughs.

As he is loading his suitcase into the Uber to go to the airport, he looks over his shoulder one last time and sees a black dog staring at him. It looks like the dog is smiling. Chad smiles back, and shuts the trunk.

The driver mentions that he’s looking for a part-time job. Something he can work around 20 hours a week. Chad gives him the contact information for his old manager at the nonprofit once they reach the airport. The driver is appreciative.

All in all, not a bad day, Chad thinks as he wheels his bag to the gate.

Good night. See you all in the morning.