How the Big Bang Began

                                                                                        How the Big Bang Began
                                                                                          © 2010 O. Wade
In the beginning, before there was anything, there was only vast nothingness beyond concept. Somewhere, in the absolute center of this sterile void, there existed a tiny brown mouse. I know this is true because the evolutionists say it is true. There was no way to identify ‘nothing’, so the little brown mouse floated alone in the dark unnamed, He could not even tell where the unnamed was, because there were no street signs, no maps and no lights, although it didn’t matter about the lights—there was nothing to see. 
However, the little mouse was self-aware, and self-awareness requires neurons, protons, croutons and maybe lettuce and a few tomatoes and pickles. But this small requirement of  electricity for his brain was not powerful enough for lighting. Fortunately, a fresh copy of Militant Evolution in Action had just that moment arrived, and because he had learned Braille in another existence, he deciphered the front page in the depthless dark. His paws read…

                                                                  Evolutionist Unearth a Power Company.
Progressive professors of evolution, at a fresh archeological excavation in West Nothing, just across the border from Nonsense, have unearthed a power company. The archeologists are definite it is a power company because the first shovel to strike the exterior wall produced sparks.

Ecstatic, the little brown mouse rushed to the power company and demanded to be hooked up. Unfortunately, the mouse was the only one in his sector for ninety-three mazillion miles, and the cost to run a line that far would be exorbitant and would require a gazillion years to realize a profit. In addition, the little mouse didn’t exist, and if he didn’t exist, how would the power company ever find him? Besides, copper wire had not yet evoluted, so the entire construct was meaningless. 
All this was giving the little brown mouse a heck of a headache. His mind kept turning back upon itself because, if there was nothing, how could he be, and how could he be thinking, and if he was thinking, then there was something, and if there was something…it was just too confusing. He wished that evolution had been invented so he could evolute into something. Exhausted, he took a couple of pills and went to sleep.
  Evolute is my word. It is a tense of evoluted—whether perfect, imperfect, present, or past noon, I don’t know. Evoluting is also my word, but it sounds good and seems to fit—so don’t try to find either in the dictionary; but they should be. 
Twenty sladkillion years later, he woke. He could not believe his eyes. As far as he could see into the distant blackness of the void, there were billions of bright pinpoints of light. Wow! The power company had evidently changed its mind. He was grateful. He felt like celebrating.
  He dressed in his best gray fur, brushed his teeth, gargled Cheese-A-Tosis, the new breath freshener, made a mad rush toward town, and ran WHAM! into something. He staggered back, gained his feet and stared. There in front of him stood the strangest thing he had ever seen; which wasn't saying much, since he had only laid his little black eyeballs on a couple of sights.
  “What…who…?” he cried out to the twisted, spotted, convoluted thing brushing itself off in front of him.
  “I am a skerdsnottle,” the thing said in an offended tone. The he/she/it/thing continued to brush itself off. Gray hair from the little mouse flitted away from its body. The skerdsnottle eyed the mouse “Where the heck did you come from?” 
  The little mouse stared. “But, you can’t exist…I mean, there ain’t no…”
  The skerdsnottle was obviously chewing tobacco. There was a knot in one cheek, and just as the mouse asked his question, the skersnottle launched a brown gob over its left shoulder and almost hit a passing comet. The skerdsnottle wiped a ‘hand’ across a slit of a mouth and glared at the mouse. “You think you’re unique?” It shouted in anger. “You think you’re something special? I can’t believe it! Just one other…what are you?... in the entire nothingverse, and what do I get—prejudice!”
  The little mouse said, “I’m truly sorry. I had no idea there was another…uh…uh… being in the area. I mean, I’ve been here for an eternity and there has been no one else.”
  The skerdsnottle jumped the knot of tobacco around in his jaw. “I accept your apology,” he said, though his tone was less than friendly.
  “Well,” said the mouse, “That’s settled. I’ll see you later. I’m going to town and celebrate being hooked to power.”
  The skerdsnottle paused in mid-chew and gave the mouse a puzzled look. “What power?”
  The mouse nodded toward the bright points of light. “There.”
  “Oh, that,” said the skerdsnottle with a dismissive wave of a hand. “I just turned them back on. I was taking a nap. Light keeps me awake.”
  “Hmmm,” said the mouse skeptically. “Well, off to town. See you later.”
  “Can I go with you?”
  The mouse shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
  So the skerdsnottle and the little brown mouse ambled, rambled and gamboled around town. The skerdsnottle, wondering what the mouse was looking for, frisked, frolicked and larked along, for he/she/it was happy-go-lucky. He/she/it was also a practical joker and his/her up-turnings and dis-settlements nearly drove the little brown mouse to the ‘in’ of sanity.
  The little brown mouse stopped so suddenly that the skerdsnottle ran into him. “Umph!” said the skerdsnottle, then angrily, “What's going on?” It vigorously brushed shed brown fur from he/she/its body.
  “There,” said the mouse, pointing to fireworks in a store window.
  “Yeah?” said the skerdsnottle.
  The mouse threw his tiny paws above his head. “Boom! Boom!” he shouted with eyes alight.
  “Those are for mature people,” cautioned the skerdsnottle.
  The mouse turned a puzzled expression to the skerdsnottle. “What’s people?”
  The skerdsnottle sighed. “Never mind. Go ahead. It’s your funeral.”
  So the little brown mouse went into the fireworks store and bought four hundred truckloads of minor fireworks, three nuclear bombs, a dozen cruise missiles and a cherry soda. He figured that if he were frugal, he would have all eternity to use up that many explosive. He told the proprietor of the store he wanted a small box of matches.
  Over the top of his glasses, the proprietor eyed the mouse. “A small box?”
  The mouse shrugged. “I need more, I’ll come back.”
  “You buy a large box,” the man said, “I’ll give you a discount on the soda.”
  “A small box is plenty. How long before delivery?”
  The man started to put numbers on a piece of paper, which had just evoluted the week before. “I figure by late this afternoon.”
  “That will be fine,” said the mouse.”
  Later that afternoon the mouse stood admiring the colossal stack of just delivered crates of fireworks. He wanted to explode something right away, but he was tired, and he wanted the skerdsnottle to go away. The thing was such a pest. He figured tomorrow would be soon enough, if the skerdsnottle remembered to turn the lights back on.
  “Got a match?” asked the skerdsnottle, startling the deep-in-thought mouse.
  “Yeah, sure,” said the mouse absently, his eyes on his explosives. He handed the small box of matches to the skerdsnottle.
The skerdsnottle leaned against the mountainous stack of fireworks, lit a cigarette, then dropped the still burning match at his feet. He inhaled deeply.
  “No! No!” cried the mouse. “Stay away from the fireworks!”
  “Okay!” said the skerdsnottle. “Don’t get your drawers in an uproar.” And he moved a distance away from the crates.
  “Thank you,” said the mouse, not at all comforted.
  “Don’t mention it,” replied the skerdsnottle.
  “Aieeeee!” cried the little brown mouse, pointing to the wall of explosives, his eyes filled with terror. “You’ve lit a fuse!”
  “What? Oh, crap!” yelled the skerdsnottle, already a league ahead of the mouse.
  But it was too late. The Big Bang had begun.