The Baggage Ceremony
by Philip Hassey
Since everyone on campus likely has some horrible spiritual problem, I have written down
the solution. Find your roommate, close friend, advisor, or RA and follow my example on the path
to spiritual freedom.
"Lukey!" I screamed as I ran into his room in a frantic panic of despair, "I have baggage!"
I smashed myself down onto his bed weeping.
"What is it?" asked Luke in a tastelessly concerned voice.
"Womenfolk," I said, "I need to be debagged. I think I need The Ceremony."
"The Ceremony," said Luke, in the deepest reverence. He walked to the door like a priest
and locked it, and walked back to his desk and sat down, "Are you sure you're prepared for this?"
"Yes," I said, "I am, it is the only way."
Luke stood up again, walked to the window and closed the two inches of window that were
still open. Then he closed the blinds all the way, so no light could come in through the window.
Luke muttered a few mysterious words and the lights seemed to dim.
"If it comes to that, then fine," said Luke, he sat down again, and took a single tissue from
the tissue box. I stood up and watched.
He spoke, "This tissue, as found in the tissue box, for these following moments will be your
Womenfolk Baggage. Take the tissue and look at it. Focus all the Womenfolk Baggage into the
tissue." He gave me a few moments of silence to take care of putting my baggage into the tissue.
The tissue drooped. When I was done I nodded solemnly and Luke continued, "Now hold it high in
the air, and let go. Freeing it to flutter gently to the ground. By this you are releasing your baggage
from your person." I gingerly lifted it high into the air, and then released it. About half way down
Luke reached over to his spiritual gun rack, took out the largest spiritual elephant gun he had, and
blasted the tissue in mid flight about a thousand times with the most outrageous ruckus he could
muster. After which the tissue continued to flutter to the ground, having been spiritually
annihilated.
"Now shout at it!" commanded Luke.
"Die baggage die!" I shouted.
"Shout louder," he commanded.
"Die baggage die!" I shouted.
"Louder!"
"Die Baggage Die!"
"Now jump on it!" he yelled out.
I began to jump up and down on it, screaming the whole time.
"Grab it, and spit on it!" Luke ordered loudly, I did. "Again!" he cried out, "Rip it into little
pieces, throw them into the air, and let them fall to the ground again!"
"Arrrrrrgh!" I cried as I tore it into a million pieces and threw them into the air, and
finally ground them into the floor with my feet. For a final action I threw my self onto the ground
and bashed the scraps of tissue with my bare hands.
After a spiritual pause, Luke calmly knelt down, and touched my shoulder. "Now you may
pick it up and deposit it in the trash." I did so, and he said, "Paul will come by later to bless the
situation. You have been freed, my friend."
And I left the room free.
Glenn, please add this to the end of the article:
No friends? Nothing better to do? Be part of the live-studio-audience of "Story Hour" 7:00 Friday
night in the radio station!
