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The Great Debate
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: philosophy
“I’ll have a glass of the Oktoberfest special, please,” Paul said to the canine femme behind the bar. The bull cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not an IPA, is it?”
“No,” the beagle replied as she reached into the freezer for a glass, “it’s a Märzen.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll have one.” Paul eyed one of the three huge television screens as the beagle poured the dark amber beer out and placed a coaster in front of him on the bar before placing the beer on it. “Thanks.”
“Want a menu?” she asked.
Paul thought it over, for maybe a second. “Sure.” She grinned and set a menu down for him before going about her business, and the bull divided his time between glancing at the menu, looking at the game he was following, and what was happening on the two screens flanking it.
“Hey, Paul,” and his ears swiveled before he looked to his right and grinned as a large bay stallion took the seat beside him.
“Jim.”
“How’ve you been?”
“Not bad,” the bull replied. “My team’s down two runs in the eighth. They’re going to lose.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, we’ll never make up the deficit. Our batting stinks this season.”
“That’s too bad.” Jim ordered a lager, and Paul ordered a shared plate of cheese sticks with marinara sauce. The two watched the game, and when a commercial came on the stallion asked, “Have you thought about it?”
“What?”
“About coming to church with me. Mary and I would be thrilled to have you.”
Paul swiveled his ears, took a sip of his beer, and put the glass down. “Jim, we’ve been through this before. It’s nice of you to ask, but I’m just not interested.”
“You know, Paul, it’s hard to figure you out somet – “
“Jesus Christ!” Paul blurted, and Jim turned to see that the batter had managed to crack a solid hit into deep right field, resulting in two runners firmly ensconced at second and third. The bull grinned and as he reached for his beer he caught Jim looking at him. “What?”
Jim was grinning. “You say you’re an atheist – “
“I am.”
“- But you still use His name.”
Paul was unimpressed by this. “Everyone in this bar has probably said that once, today in fact. Besides, if I had said Allahu-akbar you would have shit yourself.” He chuckled. “So, you were saying?”
“I was saying, you’re hard to figure out sometimes.”
“How?” Paul signaled for another beer for himself and Jim. “Look, I think it’s possible to be moral and do the right thing without something looking over my shoulder and threatening me if I do or say or think something wrong. Simple as that.” He finished off his first beer as the second one arrived, and he munched on a fried cheese stick.
“What about your soul?”
“Show me where it is.”
“Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell? Thanks for the beer, by the way.”
“No sweat.” The bull scratched at the base of one of his horns. “Why would I be afraid to go to a place that doesn’t exist? That’s like me asking you if you’d like a vacation in France.”
Jim blinked. “France exists.”
Paul waggled his eyebrows at him. “Are you sure?”
The two chuckled for a few minutes, and Paul cheered as the game went into extra innings. The bull ordered another plate of appetizers, and scowled as the game ended with a one-run loss. “Ah well, better luck next season,” Paul grumbled.
“Maybe if you’d prayed, he wouldn’t have struck out.”
Paul snorted and looked at Jim. “Look, I know you mean well, and I know that Mary probably had you come here knowing you’d find me here. You’re a good friend, but I’m just not interested.”
The stallion sighed. “I told her that, but she wanted me to. Well, if you ever change your mind, Paul, you’re welcome to go with us on Sunday.” A meaty paw came down on the bull’s shoulder. “Thanks for the beer.”
“Not a problem. See you around, Jim,” and the stallion walked out of the bar.
Another game was starting up, and Paul settled back to watch.
An ear swiveled at the sound of sirens, coming from somewhere outside.
end
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: philosophy
“I’ll have a glass of the Oktoberfest special, please,” Paul said to the canine femme behind the bar. The bull cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not an IPA, is it?”
“No,” the beagle replied as she reached into the freezer for a glass, “it’s a Märzen.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll have one.” Paul eyed one of the three huge television screens as the beagle poured the dark amber beer out and placed a coaster in front of him on the bar before placing the beer on it. “Thanks.”
“Want a menu?” she asked.
Paul thought it over, for maybe a second. “Sure.” She grinned and set a menu down for him before going about her business, and the bull divided his time between glancing at the menu, looking at the game he was following, and what was happening on the two screens flanking it.
“Hey, Paul,” and his ears swiveled before he looked to his right and grinned as a large bay stallion took the seat beside him.
“Jim.”
“How’ve you been?”
“Not bad,” the bull replied. “My team’s down two runs in the eighth. They’re going to lose.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, we’ll never make up the deficit. Our batting stinks this season.”
“That’s too bad.” Jim ordered a lager, and Paul ordered a shared plate of cheese sticks with marinara sauce. The two watched the game, and when a commercial came on the stallion asked, “Have you thought about it?”
“What?”
“About coming to church with me. Mary and I would be thrilled to have you.”
Paul swiveled his ears, took a sip of his beer, and put the glass down. “Jim, we’ve been through this before. It’s nice of you to ask, but I’m just not interested.”
“You know, Paul, it’s hard to figure you out somet – “
“Jesus Christ!” Paul blurted, and Jim turned to see that the batter had managed to crack a solid hit into deep right field, resulting in two runners firmly ensconced at second and third. The bull grinned and as he reached for his beer he caught Jim looking at him. “What?”
Jim was grinning. “You say you’re an atheist – “
“I am.”
“- But you still use His name.”
Paul was unimpressed by this. “Everyone in this bar has probably said that once, today in fact. Besides, if I had said Allahu-akbar you would have shit yourself.” He chuckled. “So, you were saying?”
“I was saying, you’re hard to figure out sometimes.”
“How?” Paul signaled for another beer for himself and Jim. “Look, I think it’s possible to be moral and do the right thing without something looking over my shoulder and threatening me if I do or say or think something wrong. Simple as that.” He finished off his first beer as the second one arrived, and he munched on a fried cheese stick.
“What about your soul?”
“Show me where it is.”
“Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell? Thanks for the beer, by the way.”
“No sweat.” The bull scratched at the base of one of his horns. “Why would I be afraid to go to a place that doesn’t exist? That’s like me asking you if you’d like a vacation in France.”
Jim blinked. “France exists.”
Paul waggled his eyebrows at him. “Are you sure?”
The two chuckled for a few minutes, and Paul cheered as the game went into extra innings. The bull ordered another plate of appetizers, and scowled as the game ended with a one-run loss. “Ah well, better luck next season,” Paul grumbled.
“Maybe if you’d prayed, he wouldn’t have struck out.”
Paul snorted and looked at Jim. “Look, I know you mean well, and I know that Mary probably had you come here knowing you’d find me here. You’re a good friend, but I’m just not interested.”
The stallion sighed. “I told her that, but she wanted me to. Well, if you ever change your mind, Paul, you’re welcome to go with us on Sunday.” A meaty paw came down on the bull’s shoulder. “Thanks for the beer.”
“Not a problem. See you around, Jim,” and the stallion walked out of the bar.
Another game was starting up, and Paul settled back to watch.
An ear swiveled at the sound of sirens, coming from somewhere outside.
end
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Bovine (Other)
Size 120 x 92px
File Size 36.5 kB
Listed in Folders
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