In The End

“Grandpa, tell us a story!” whined the young children. The old man turned from his listless gaze out into the darkness and times long past back into the illuminated light and eager children in his immediate area-he did not hear them. “GRAAAANDPA!!!!!!!!” screeched the children, shrill enough to rouse even him from his trance.
He wasn’t their grandfather exactly- not in any real sense, but he was the only adult around too old to do all the labor that had to be done, and therefore the only one with time to amuse the children. He was always ready with a story to tell the kids. “GRAAAANNNNNNNDDDDDDDPAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!” screamed Isaac, who was too old to be considered a child, yet too young to labor. “Tell us a story before we go to bed! Pleeease?” the other children chimed in on their cue at the “please”- the old man was no match for the beautifully coordinated attack. “Yes...I suppose I could tell you a story, younglings. About what do you desire to hear?”
The answer was the predictable. 'Grandpa' had only one story that was worth the telling. “Tell us the story of the war that was not a war!” shouted the children with delight. It was a privilege to hear this story from the old man. It really DID get better with each telling.
“Yes...the war that was not a war...or, as my grandfather called it “World War 3”...
Nobody is old enough now to recall when it happened, but everyone who has heard of it agrees on the main thing- it was the largest scale war we had ever seen. And it started, as most wars do, with two feuding tribes.” The old mans eyes grew wide. He remembered his grandpa sitting him on his knee and telling him the same story, so many years ago...
“What were the tribes named?” prompted Isaac, who had heard this story many times before, but was always captivated by it.
“Why, the tribes were called the Makdunalds and the Buhrguhrkeengs.”
“Those are funny names for tribes.” Chimed in Isaac, who was already starting to become sleepy, as the light outside dimmed.
“Yes, but in those days, maybe OUR names would sound funny” countered grandpa, before he continued his story. “Well, these tribes, the Makdunalds and Buhrguhrkeengs, were very powerful. So powerful, as a matter of fact, that for the most part they had free reign over the land-almost nobody could challenge them, and those that could had better things to do than fight” (at this, some of the younger children laughed, showing their few teeth, only some of which lost due to bad hygiene).
“Well, these tribes had always fought over the same territory. When one tribe would do something to get the upper hand, the other would copy it. Soon, everywhere where there was a Makdunalds base, a Buhrguhrkeeng outpost would appear, and visa-versa. And the world was fine with this- as long as no side got too powerful, there would not be a war, and they could all live in peace. But then, one fateful day, the Makdunalds finally broke the stalemate- they signed a treaty with the tribe of -and I hope I say this right- Kokakola. The Kokakolans were even more powerful than the Makdunalds and Buhrguhrkeengs combined! When the Buhrguhrkeengs heard, they were furious. They immediately challenged the pact as unbinding, but to no avail. They sought protection by making an alliance with the Pehpsee-kolans, splinter group and bitter rival of the Kokakolans who, through time and manipulation skills, had become almost as powerful.
The stage was set for the Great War.”
“Grandpa, why did the Kokakolans and Pehpsee-kolans ally with the other tribes? Weren’t they powerful enough?” asked Isaac. He already knew the answer, but he was prompting the old man for the children who had never heard this before.
“Well, you see, the Kokakolans and Pehpsee-kolans had their own feud, even worse than the Makdunalds and Buhrguhrkeengs. They figured if they could ally with other clans and tribes that would have the upper hand. They figured wrong. These two alliances were now so powerful that they threatened the very world economy!”
“Grandpa?” asked a tiny little voice “what was an ‘economy’?”
The old man looked out across the sea of captivated faces to the little girl who spoke. She was new, and had never heard the story before by the look of wonder on her face.
“Why, the economy was the tie that kept the world from falling apart. Trade. Once the tribes allied, though, between them they controlled so much that when they stopped trading with each other, the economy fell apart. Workers had nothing to do. Jobs were lost. People starved. It has happened before. It’s called a depression.”
“Grandpa, what happened to the tribes?” said Isaac, eager to get back to the story.
“Well, this fight caused the most powerful of all the tribes, a clan called the Mykrosawft, to come into the fight. The Mykrosawft acknowledged themselves as arbiters”-
“Grandpa, what’s an arbiter?”
“A judge.”
“Oh.”
“-As arbiters of the dispute, and warned both sides that if they did not stop their bickering, the Mykrosawft would “eat them up.”
“What do you mean eat them, grandpa?” asked a little boy.
“It’s an expression my grandpa used. I asked him the same question, and he told me this:
“The Mykrosawft did not want to EAT the other clans, but to control them. They threatened what is called a “hostile takeover” of the other clans, and since hostile means very unfriendly, it was obviously a threat of a battle for the power over the tribes.”
“So what happened? Did the Mykrosawft beat the other tribes?” asked the same boy. Isaac snickered to himself.
“No.” replied the old man. “The other tribes, instead of solving their differences like the Mykrosawft told them to do, decided to join and up and ally against the Mykrosawft.”
“Who won grandpa?” asked the little boy.
“The Mykrosawft were strong, but not strong enough to win against all four tribes. A brilliant economic war ensued, people starving and dying and other crises elsewhere in the world being completely ignored until finally, Byll Gaydes, the Mykrosawft See-Eee-Oh, or chief, died. The Mykrosawft, without his guidance, fell. But everything did not go back to normal. The other tribes, without an economy to keep them alive, or a purpose to keep their people dedicated, slowly died out. And we are much better off without them and their ways. Don’t you think so?”
“Oh yes, grandpa, much better off.”
“Well, it’s time to go to sleep. Off to bed with you. Turn out the light.”
“But grandpa!” says Isaac, “it took me half an hour to make this fire! Do you know how difficult it is to find tree wood within five lakes of here? And flint…”
“Silence! You are lucky to have any. Have you seen the world outside? We have shelter. We can find food. We have water. Not many people can say that. We are very lucky to be living in such luxury. Yes sir. Very lucky…..”
The children blew out the fire as the old man got up and left the cave to get some fresh air.