Fiction

Buddha Delivers a Speech

Photo Credit: d.a.n.n.y.c.Licensed CC-BY.
Photo Credit: d.a.n.n.y.c.
Licensed CC-BY.

Buddha is nervous. He is about to give a speech. Buddha hates giving speeches.

He was up all night writing it. The speech was his attempt to tell of his experiences reaching enlightenment under the tree of figs. Buddha hoped that by sharing his experiences through public speaking, he might help others to improve their lives.

Shortly before the speech was to begin, Buddha vomited in a public bathroom. Buddha hoped that this would ensure he would not vomit during the speech.

Buddha put on a clean suit and tie. He looked like a dapper gentleman.

His speech began and Buddha proved himself an eloquent writer, though a somewhat inelegant, inconstant speaker. Nonetheless, the audience listened patiently and were polite, and Buddha managed to finish his speech without any major anxiety attack or particularly embarrassing flub. When the speech had concluded, Buddha told the audience that he would now take questions.

A tall man in the front row wearing thick, black glasses raised his hand.

“Yes, you in the front,” said Buddha, pointing to the man, “what would you like to know?”

“You never mentioned the part where you were crucified.”

Buddha stood in a daze of confusion for a moment.

“I never was crucified.”

The crowd gasped. A woman sitting in the middle, near the aisle, stood up.

“What about Pontius Pilate? Did you ever forgive him?”

“Forgive him for what? I wasn’t crucified. I never knew Pontius Pilate. You’ve got me confused. You’re thinking of Jesus Christ.”

The crowd began talking amongst themselves. The frustration was palpable. Buddha felt like a fool.

The crowd began to boo. The man who spoke first shouted loudly “Get off the stage!”

Just when it appeared the that the audience may become violent, everyone present suddenly transformed into balloons of every color and floated so far up into the sky that Buddha could no longer see them.

Buddha reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cellular phone. He dialed his manager’s number. There was an answer.

“Hello?”

“Dang it, Chuck, it happened again!”