Kamikaze

The Lever Fucking Broke

Yesterday was a day I will not soon forget. It was a calculation error of huge proportions which I have learned from.

You see, I was walking across a bridge with one train track, later dividing into two train tracks, on it. On one track, five people were walking. On the other, there was only one. We were all happy and calm and things looked fine.

As if you couldn’t already guess, something bad was about to happen; a train was coming down the tracks. It was racing up behind the five people walking.

But the bridge was fairly large, so I had enough time to try to yell at the simpletons. Unfortunately, each time I opened my mouth to scream at them, the train blared it’s horn. I would yell, the horn would blare. But I tried, and was silenced. I waited one exact second and tried again. And again. I was silenced two times. So I waited three and five fourths of a half second before making another attempt - but it seemed the guy blaring the train horn had the same idea. So I tried seven eighths of a ten quarter seconds wait before yelling. Same result. Yelling was of no use.

Not wanting to simply give up, I studied my immediate surroundings. Much to my surprise, in my left palm, I was already gripping a lever which would switch the track over so it would only run over one guy instead of five. Bingo! Problem solved sort of!

A realization struck me, and I stopped to analyze the morality of pulling the lever. However, though the bridge was large, it was not large enough that I had a whole lot of time to think this situation through. So I decided to throw the switch based upon the fact that the single man walking on the track was wearing a NASCAR t-shirt. I figured he would not be missed. At the very least, not by me.

When I pulled the lever, it snapped like a twig. My jaw dropped and my situation seemed to worsen. But I wasn’t giving up so easily.

I charged forward, broken lever still in my hand, and tossed the piece of metal at the five people walking. It bounced at their feet.

For once in that day, things went right. They turned, saw me, saw the train, and simply stepped over onto the next track.

The train flew by and, with a handshake, they each thanked me for saving their lives. They put their heads down and walked back the way they came. In true simpleton fashion, they walked single file ignoring everything except for what was immediately in front of them.

I was just relieved and happy to see that they were all safe. So I walked energetically and happily forward, separating myself from the people a considerable amount.

And then I heard the familiar sound of a train’s horn blaring. I thought it must’ve been the same train for a moment, but it was getting closer. It came out of a tunnel in front of me, coming up behind the six people. I could’ve gone retarded with rage, but I controlled myself and went for a good cussing instead.

I tried yelling. At one second intervals. The horn covered my voice completely. Half second intervals. The horn increased its tempo. One fourth of a second! It copied me!

If I kept this up, I knew they were as good as dead.

Fortunately, though, I again magically found a lever in my hand. I started flipping it back and forth frantically. Forget morality!

But it dawned on me that the train was coming from the tunnel, where the tracks were already in two. So, like the people already walking the track, there was only one path for it to take.

I released the lever and started running again. I shouted at one tenth of a second intervals - kind of like a monkey making a techno whooping sound - while the train drowned me out. I picked up the broken lever as I passed it. I threw it hard at them, but that only served to fly over their heads and off the bridge without a sound.

I caught up with them, still screaming like a techno monkey, and was two arm lengths away from the back of their line was penetrated by the speeding train.

Limbs and body parts rained over me. The grim reaper’s confetti. A NASCAR shirt floated from the sky as the train continued past.

I stood in shock, but was still aware enough to realize that the train in front of me was a passenger train. I counted really fast and discovered there were four-hundred and ninety-four on board. They stared out the windows of the train.

On one of the two latter tracks.

Heading toward the one track, which had the switch.

The switch I’d flipped randomly back and forth just moments ago, not thinking about how this part of the situation would play out.

The train hit the switch and went flying off the tracks, car after car, in a big ball of fire. The blaring horn could not cover that many screams, so I heard most of them. Once all the train cars went off, the train floated down the river below and went off a waterfall. Then it went into a whirlpool. So I knew everybody was dead.

Defeated, I smacked myself in the head like I’d done a math problem wrong. “If only I had just let the five people die!” I started walking home. “Now I killed exactly five hundred.” I kicked a skull off the bridge like an empty soda can. “Oh well, guess I know what to do next time.”

Filed by kamikaze189 at August 26th, 2007 under Fiction with a point, Humor, Seriousness