Religious Movement

Story Sent in by Allen:

At a Chinese restaurant on my first date with Jody, things took an interesting turn. She asked me, "What religion are you?"

I told her, and she replied, "That's great, but not as cool as Bundooz."

"Bundooz?" I asked her.

"The coolest religion ever. There is no god. There is only Bundooz, the smartest thing ever. It speaks to anyone who listens. Not through signs, wonders, or any symbolic crap."

"Does… er… Bundooz speak to you?"

"He's speaking to me now," she said, then stood up. "Excuse me."

She headed for the bathrooms, leaving me puzzled. She returned after several minutes, sat down, and said, loudly, "Praise Bundooz!"

"What did Bundooz have to say?"

"He speaks through natural biological processes," she explained, "No tricks or visions. You physically feel what he wants you to do. Just now, he ordered me to poop, so I did."

Hmm. I asked, "Was that possibly your own… insides telling you that?"

"No. Bundooz all the way. He also makes it so that I can breathe while not thinking about it, at night, while I'm asleep."

"What about those of us who don't believe in Bundooz? He still helps us, it seems."

She nodded. "He does, whether you believe in him or not. If I were you, I'd believe in him, though. Something bad always happens to people who don't believe in Bundooz."

"Isn't that most people?"

"And we wonder why there's so much pain and misery in the world."

"So if I believe that Bundooz is the source of my physical needs, then all will be well?"

"Something bad will happen to you, otherwise. I just know it."

I steered the conversation away from any further talk of Bundooz, and we talked about soccer (we were both fans), some TV shows, each other, and so on. Anything but theology.

Towards the end of dinner, she asked me, "So, do you believe in Bundooz, now?"

"I don't think so."

She frowned. "How about now?"

"Uh… no."

"What's it going to take? Your next trip to the bathroom? Do you ever go to the bathroom?"

"Sometimes, but I think that's more a natural process."

"And who governs natural processes? Bundooz!"

I would have been laughing had she not worn a straight face every time she mentioned Bundooz. She sounded genuinely reverent, and if it was a joke, then she was definitely taking it too far. Have some fun with it, I thought.

"If I expressed a belief in Bundooz, what would be my first step?"

"We'd poop together."

I couldn't take it anymore. I laughed, long and hard. She cut in, "In separate stalls. Not so that we could, you know, see each other. But in the same room."

"Okay," I said, "What is this all about? Why'd you make all this up?"

She said, "For a college religion class, we had to make our own religion. After I presented mine, a couple of the guys in class said that they really liked mine, and so I thought that there might be more to it, so I spent the past few years developing it, and now I think it works as a system."

"Uh-huh."

"A beautiful way to bond!"

"Going to the bathroom together. Great. I think I pass on it."

"I didn't say right now. I'd work up to it with a potential convert. It would be weird to do it right now."

"It would be weird to do it, period!"

It went back and forth for a little while, but remained pretty lighthearted. We're still acquaintances, actually, and she still brings up Bundooz every now and again. However, I never took her up on her conversion offer, and we never went on another date.