One would make a mistake if oneself were to underplay the importance pudding has played in the major historical events of world history. Most of the details concerning the pudding's role at Waterloo, for example, are well known and need not be covered here.
Another mistake would be made, if one were to overestimate the stickiness of your average pudding. When smeared on a tiled bathroom floor it will not provide the needed friction to force ones foot forward.
Evil Pop had made a mistake.
While dancing one of his manic dances (something he did because his human-suit became itchy from time to time) he had needed the reliable friction of the bathroom floor. All he got was the fateful pudding, obscured by the bits and pieces of Iman. He had hit his head on the sink, then the bath, then Iman, then the pudding, then the floor.
The front doorbell rang. It rang again. This went on for a few minutes. Then in came Nyar, through the window, shoebox under his arm. A shoebox with most deadly contents.
Two mistakes had cancelled each other out. The first, Pop's belief that revealing the meaning of life to the world would end in the human race committing suicide under the impression that their lives were pointless. Actually it would inspire world peace and an enlightened age. The second, Nyar's destruction of the meaning of life and his substandard replacement is what would actually succeed in making people think life had no real meaning at all.
So everything was on track, so to speak.
On track especially for Nyar, who now had a golden opportunity to be rid of his rival, he raised the gun he found laying next to the brush in the bathroom cabinet, and made to pull the trigger.
KERPOW, or BANG if you prefer.
Bowie was still on the run.
His major objective was to outrun the big earlobed people who were suddenly chasing him. It had all started so suddenly that David did not remember how the chase started. It was as if he had always been in the middle of a big-earlobe-person chase.
There were at least six of them, urgent looks on their faces. Their earlobes had an almost…a ripeness to them. As if they were ready to be plucked. They swayed with the rhythmic beat of bare feet slapping against concrete.
"Ok…Ok…," David was panting like nobody's business, "…I give up…you got me"
"You dropped your book, a very unfortunate affair, but misfortune is a mortal tramp masquerading as a ghost, here it is, we found it for you." Then the usual blushing of the lobes occurred, almost expected by Bowie even though it had only happened once so far.
"Oh, thanks for that, very kind of you." These guys made him very nervous. Bowie hated to discriminate, and he wasn't even sure he was. He looked at the earlobes again. Yep, he was sure, equal rights be damned.
Watching him sprint off into the darkness Jubnig, Uyrugynux, OypOypGixy, Juuuuz, Wuggg and Berf could only hope that they wouldn't be punished too severely if everything went wrong. Of course the strategic importance of this planet meant that it's loss would mean certain extinction for most of the galaxies races, untold suffering for countless numbers of beings and another rise in the price of petrol.
Malone was furious once again. If it was up to him to kill McKenzie, what was this intruder doing here? Before allowing the guy (who looked a little like Malone) to end McKenzie's time here he asked him what the story was.
"Ah yes, the story. Good evening Mr Malone, my name is Malony, Mr Malony. You see, around Chapter 12 you were introduced to everyone as Malone. When you reappeared in Chapter 15 all of the sudden you were Malony, or at least I was. Please understand that this duality we share has been upsetting to our barely concrete existence."
The news was shocking to Malone. His whole existence boiled down to a typo.
McKenzie saw and took his chance. Whispering (a little too loudly) to Malone that he should, "Shoot that guy, he's causing problems for everyone!" the Father started to back off into the shadows conveniently occupying the corner of the room.
So Malone shot him with a minimum of fuss.
Another Malony walked into the room.
So Malone shot him.
This was followed by another Malony, who was also promptly shot.
A few reloads and 16 Malony's later something unexpected happened. The lights went up, the television went off and a knock could be heard, sure and confident, at the door opposite the one all of the Malony's had used. Before any action could be taken by any of the dead and living in the room in entered a thin tall man in an old dark suit. Hair slicked back. A pained looking man, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
To be continued...
Although the world is very full of suffering
It is also full of the overcoming of it.