Stories From the Shut-In

Proof (#crack)

There was a crack in the universe. Professor Terrance Epps was the poor soul who discovered it.

He outlined the proof in 259 pages of complex and arcane mathematical calculations that would have most people scratching their heads.

Still, the math proving we didn't exist was solid. There was empirical proof of our nothingness. Nihilism ruled. Our imaginary lives were pointless.

Upon making the discovery, a despondent Epps chugged a flask of non-existent Jim Beam, got in his imaginary Camry and drove aimlessly around his virtual neighborhood. When the falsely perceived blare of police sirens beckoned him to pull over, the esteemed professor did so only out of habit.

Epps pulled out his license and registration waiting for the inevitable. If the universe wasn't going to exist, it was comforting to know it did so in a predictable pattern. The cop walked to his car on cue.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" the towering officer asked. After having discovered the secrets of the universe, Epps considered this to be a very banal question. The cop seemed to think it was important, though.

This illusion was acting exactly as an officer of the law should. Asking obvious question?. Check. Condescending tone? Check. Donut? Maybe not, but Epps was sure there was a half eaten box of Dunkin in the police car.

"You pulled me over because that was how you were programmed," Epps answered, noticing the dab of jelly clinging to the cop's lower lip. The quintessential jerk cop. The scientist's mind was spinning thinking of the equations and code used to create this guy. If he wasn't stuck answering questions about his intoxication, Epps would have taken out his notebook and mapped it out right then and there.

"I pulled you over because you were speeding and weaving. And because you smell like a whiskey distillery."

"That statement is untrue," Epps said. "You couldn't have smelled me from your car. This is a false arrest."

"I haven't arrested you yet, moron," the cop said. "Get out of the car and let's breathalyze, Then you'll see what a real arrest looks like."

"I'm not saying the arrest is invalid because you made an erroneous statement," Epps said. "It's false because nothing's real. I've proved it."

"Oh really?" The cop clutched the billy club handle in his belt. Epps braced for the pain which would seem very real. Instead the cop politely doffed his cap and smiled.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you sir," he said. "Enjoy your drunken evening."

Epps watched in surprise as the officer indeed walked back to his car. What the hell? Why didn't he arrest an obviously impaired motorist. Was this a glitch in the system? By having mapped out the workings of this virtual universe, had Epps somehow changed the rules just by observing them?

There had to be an answer. He ran out in the street, blocking the police car.

"Why didn't you arrest me?" Eppst demanded.

"Because you think you know everything, Einstein." the cop answered.  "You don't."

The car squealed away leaving Epps holding scraggled computations and formulas of nonsense. The secrets of a non-existent universe would remain a mystery.