The Meaning of Life

By Trevor Fletcher


Why are we here?  What’s life all about? Two friends, Wayne and Stan are enjoying a drink and having the sort of conversation people have in pubs.  Stan fancies himself as a bit of thinker whilst Wayne is a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic. Written for use as an introduction to a '40 days of purpose' series answering the question 'What on Earth am I here for?




Stan: There you go then, there's yours – a pint of lager and cranberry juice and a packet of German sausage and sauerkraut crisps.
(Stan sits down and they drink)
Wayne: Cheers
Stan: Down the hatch.  Shame about old Bert.
Wayne: Bert?
Stan: Yeah, you know, traffic warden – used to drink in here.
Wayne: Oh Bert – what happened to him then?
Stan: Got hit by a parked car.
Wayne: Hit by a parked car?
Stan: Yeah, it was parked on his head by some bloke he gave a ticket to.  Died instantly.
Wayne: So was he all right then?
Stan: (Sarcastically)  Oh yeah, he was all right – died instantly but took a couple of aspirin and was right as rain in the morning!  You really are a plonker aren't you Wayne?
Wayne: (Sheepishly)  Oh yeah…right.
Stan: Makes you wonder, though.
Wayne: Yeah, makes you wonder all right… (pause)…Er, what does it make you wonder about?
Stan: About life, of course.
Wayne: Oh yeah, life – makes you wonder about life don’t I?…(pause)… Er, what about life exactly?
Stan: Well, Einstein, for example, what does it all mean?  What's the meaning of life?
Wayne: (Smirks)  That's easy!  I know that.
Stan: Don't be daft, you’re the stupidest bloke I know – how could you know what the meaning of life is?
Wayne: Course I do – it's a film, innit – with them Monty Python blokes.
Stan: You know, Wayne, if you had twice as much brain as you do you'd be half way to being a halfwit!  I'm not talking about the film; I'm talking about what life's all about.  Why are we here?
Wayne: Oh I get you.  What's life all about, right… So what is life all about then?
Stan: Well, I dunno, do I?  Some people think it's all planned – you know, by some Supreme Being…
Wayne: What, like George Bush you mean?
Stan: I said Supreme Being, not soup-brain.  Other people think it's just like you; a freak accident.  Take my Dad, for example, he's a Darwinian.
Wayne: I thought he was a Leo.
Stan: Not his star sign, spongehead; I mean he subscribes to the theories of Darwin.
Wayne: Darwin – don’t know him.  He must drink at the Rose and Crown.
Stan: He doesn't drink anywhere, he's dead.
Wayne: What, him as well?  Was he with Bert then?
Stan: No he wasn't with Bert.  Look, let's pretend for a moment that the space between your ears is not just an echoing void.  Darwin was a scientist, right, and he thought up the theory of evolution.
Wayne: What, like we’re all distantly related to monkeys and all that?
Stan: Yeah, that's right – though not so distantly in your case.
Wayne: So first there was monkeys, right, then all of a sudden some of them stood up straight and started to shave?
Stan: Well no – it's not quite as simple as that – unlike you.  First there was the Big Bang and out of that popped Earth and on that grew these tiny single cell organisms called amoeba which is where all life came from.
Wayne: Ameobi?  Doesn’t he play for Newcastle?
Stan: More or less the same thing, I suppose.
Wayne: So what do you think?
Stan: Me?  I think Darwin was a bit of a twit as it happens; I can't help thinking there's got to be some sort of intelligent life out there controlling it all.
Wayne: Well there certainly isn't any intelligent life in here, is there?
Stan: No, you're right Wayne.  Anyway, whose round is it?
Landlord: Time, gentlemen please!
Copyright Trevor Fletcher, all rights reserved.
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