Er…  I have no explanation for this.  – Amy

Immanuel Velikovsky and Erich Von Daniken are sitting in a bar.  Erich says, “God was an ancient Astronaut.  Look at the Egyptians’ Sirius-based calendar.  And the Mayans’ precise calculations of Venus’ orbit.  These ancient peoples could never have computed them on their own.  It’s proof that they were visited by extraterrestrials.”

Immanuel shakes his head.  “No, no.  No extraterrestrials, you silly boy.  An enormous comet was ejected from the surface of Jupiter and collided with the earth.  It explains the parting of the Red Sea, manna falling from the heavens, the seven plagues of Egypt.  All perfectly obvious.”

A man sitting a few stools down shakes his head.  “You’ve both got it wrong.”

Erich waves the man over.  “What’s your theory?”

He shrugs.  “It’s not a theory, it’s a fact.  It’s all in the mind.  The parting of the Red Sea, the Egyptian calendar, all of it.”

Immanuel looks thoughtful.  “How so?”

The man draws a spoon from his jacket and appears to bend it.  “Psychic power, my friend.  The power of the mind.”

Immanuel laughs.  “Bartender!  Another round, for me and my friends here!”

The barkeep, an older man with thinning hair and a bushy beard, silently brings three shotglasses filled with clear liquid.

“A toast!”  Immanuel blinks to clear his increasingly blurry field of vision.  “To extraterrestrials, comets, and psychic phenomena!  And fat bank accounts!”

“Skol!”

“Nostrovia!”

They toss back their shots.

Within seconds, Immanuel Velikovsky, Erich Von Daniken and Uri Geller are dead.

James Randi smiles and steps out from behind the bar.

Copyright 2004-2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved. Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.