Ladville’s Laziest

It started when Bill Gates suggested that lazy people were the most creative. Maybe Bill Gates actually said it. Maybe it was attributed to him by some lazy motivational speaker. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that humanity had to choose a new hero for the next millennia, and the person they wanted to choose was the laziest one.

Humanity’s search for their creative new hero led them to Ladville, the home of lads. The pretentious, puerile men and women who had built a separate city for themselves.

Ideally, the search party would’ve gone straight to the Mayor of Ladville, but the lad was found wasted, face-down near a dumpster just outside the town council building.

The lads and lasses of Ladville were unhelpful, to say the least. They made fun of the search party, ridiculed their prim suits and grey hair as they lounged in their bleached and dyed hair, wearing tank tops and awfully baggy shirts and the lot.

The search party found that about in an hour, they had got themselves a nickname. The lads with brooms up their asses, they were called. Miffed by this nickname, the members of the search party came up with a strategy. They were going to find the hardest working lad in Ladville because, they thought, hard-working people always resented the lazy. And as such that lad or lass, would know the laziest lad or lass in town.

The hunt began, and in about an hour, they spotted a lad running errands every fifteen minutes. A very hard-working lad indeed. They stopped him in his tracks and asked him, “Who are you? What’s your name? Where are you going?”

The lad looked at their stern, old faces and said, “Stop bugging, man. I have to go. Shit, you’re wasting my time.”

The lads with brooms up their asses were, however, a strong bunch, and they pinned him down. “You’re not going anywhere until you answer our questions.”

The lad tried to kick himself to freedom and finding no success spit on one grey somber face in the search party. He got a stiff punch for it. And as always, the punch cleared his brain.

“Okay, what do you wanna know? Tell me quick. I got to go, man.”

“Do you know who the laziest person is, here in Ladville?”

The lad laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed and didn’t stop laughing for minutes. Finally, he caught his breath and said, “Yes, I do. I’m working for her.”

The lads with brooms up their asses looked at each other and smiled. This was it. The key to world peace. The key to finding the new hero, or heroine.

The lad took them to the apartment he shared with the lass named Angie. Angie, he said, was the laziest lass you could find on the face of the planet. This little tidbit only made the search party happier.

The door of the dirty apartment opened as the lad used his key. The stink of beer and old pizza gushed out to meet the lads with the brooms up their asses. They smiled. This was no doubt a lazy person, the last of a dying breed.

Inside, they saw a place covered with lighting equipment and what appeared to be a green screen. A little way to the side, a girl sat on a stool, in faded old denim and a yellowing tee that was once white.

“Oh, you’re here, Sam. Where’s my clothes, and did you get that makeup stuff I asked you to?”

“No, Angie. There are some people that wanted to see you, and they didn’t let me, and-“

Angie sighed. Then she turned and faced the lads with the brooms up their asses, who looked very surprised.

“What do you want, lads?”

“Are you – are you Angie Flowers, the streaming phenom?”

“Another brand deal, huh?”

“No,” the lads with the brooms up their asses said in unison and looked at each other.

They were smiling. They were giddy. They had found the hero, the heroine, rather, who would protect Earth for the rest of the millennia. How would she do it? Well, that was up to her. She’s lazy, right? She’ll find a way.

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