retold by joshua scott paul
Once upon a time, a poor oil and gas producer named loman miller, was out drinking with his Bilderberger buddies. One by one they all got to bragging about their children, and loman, who was so proud of his daughter Jeannie, bragged that his university educated daughter would be a good wife for the president, as she had invented a way to synthesize straw into oil.
One of his friends or enemies told the president, who had Jeannie quietly and efficiently kidnapped on grounds of national security and had her put in a top security facility with all the latest equipment put at her disposal - for her "safety."
The president came to visit her, "Synthesize this straw in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or you and your father could be abducted by enemies of the state and executed." The president continued to mock her, "Of course if you succeed I would be happy to ask your father for your hand in marriage," she was told with a sneer.
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was the night before - and still she couldn't synthesize straw into oil.
From out of nowhere a little man appeared. He looked her up and down and said - 'what will you give me if I synthesize this straw into oil?'
Jeannie said 'I have nothing to give you.'
'Give me that gold necklace around your neck,' the little man told her.
'But that was my mother's necklace. It is all I have to remember her by. Don't ask for that,' Jeannie pleaded.
'What good is the necklace if can't save your life? Do you think the executioner will not slip it from your neck after he shoots you in the back of the head? Would your mother want you to keep the necklace and lose your life instead?' asked the the little man.
'What if you run away after I give you the necklace?' she asked.
He gripped her neck with surprising speed and strength - 'I could take it now,' he said and then let go.
'Take it then,' she said slipping it over her head.
He put the necklace around his neck, and set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the straw into the DNA sequencers, and as he worked he began to sing a lullaby. And the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon put Jeannie to sleep.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that the straw had been synthesized into oil.
"A fluke. It could happen to anyone. Put this into my strategic petroleum reserves, and move her in to a larger facility. This time give her more straw!" The president turned to Jeannie, "Synthesize this straw in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or you and your father could be abducted by enemies of the state, tortured and executed. Your not getting away that easily. You will need to do it again. I don't know how you did what you did, but you won't be able to do it a second time!"
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was once again the night before - and still she had nothing done.
From out of nowhere the same little man appeared. He looked her up and down and said - 'what will you give me if I synthesize this straw into oil?'
Jeannie said 'I have nothing to give you.'
He said 'Give me that gold ring on your finger.'
'But that was my mother's wedding ring. Don't ask for that,' Jeannie pleaded.
'What good is the ring if can't save your life? Do you think the executioner will not slip it from your finger after he shoots you in the back of the head? Would your mother want you to keep the ring and lose your life instead?' asked the the little man.
'What if you run away after I give you the ring?' she asked.
He gripped her hand with surprising speed and strength - 'I can take it now, just like I could have taken the necklace last night. And I didn't run away last night did I?' and then let go.
'Take it then,' she said slipping it off her finger.
He put the ring on the necklace around his neck, and set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the straw into the DNA sequencers, and once again he began to sing a lullaby. And the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon put Jeannie to sleep for a second time.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that even more straw had been synthesized into oil.
"Put this into my strategic petroleum reserves. Now move her in to the largest hangar we have and this time make sure you give her all the straw you've got!"
Just like every other time she was told "Synthesize this straw in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or you and your father could be abducted by enemies of the state, brainwashed, tortured and executed."
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was the night before - and still she hadn't been able to synthesize straw into oil.
In the hangar Jeannie busied herself configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the straw into the DNA sequencers. She couldn't give up. But nothing was working. The straw was being turned in to mud.
Something was missing, but what?
She's seen straw synthesized into oil twice - she knew it was possible. but she just couldn't make it work. there were too many combinations. she couldn't figure it out.
for millions of years humans have survived disasters, jeannie thought to herself, she could survive this small disaster. not an ice age. not a meteor. not a solar flare. not a disease or a volcano or a tsunami. just converting grass into gas. just a few more tweaks and she'd have it. but it's impossible. its too far away.
jeannie, too exhausted to cry slides her back down the side of the machine and puts her head in her arms.
As she was starting to go to sleep a familiar voice says to her 'what will you give me this time, if I synthesize all this straw into oil?'
'I have nothing left. You have taken everything, I have nothing left to give.' she said.
He looks her in the eye and says 'Give me your first child.'
'I couldn't do that. I will not do that. I would rather die than give you my child. What kind of mother would sell her child's life to save her own? Have mercy.' Jeannie pleaded.
'Who knows,' the little man says, 'maybe you will never have a child, what harm can come of it? Anyway you are going to die if you don't give me a child. At least if you give me a child - you will have had a child - a child to pass on your destiny - and your child may have a chance at a better life than you. How can you deny that child their chance at fighting inequality?' said the little man.
'What if I run away after I give birth?' she asked.
'I will hunt you down and kill you, I will kill your child, I will kill every last one of your family, I will kill your friends, and I will kill everyone who ever knew you, until every last memory of you is gone.' he says.
'Take it then,' she said, 'if i have i child it will be yours.'
He then set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the straw into the DNA sequencers, and he began to sing a lullaby. And soon the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon made Jeannie sleepy. But this time she was ready, and she stayed awake and recorded everything, and finally at long last all the machine was done.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that all the straw had been synthesized into oil.
"Good. Put this into my strategic petroleum reserves. Now you will marry me."
Within the year, the president and jeannie had married and a beautiful baby boy was born.
Remembering her promise to the little man, she doubled spending on white house security.
One day the little man appeared and said "Lady, I have come for the child."
But she refused, begged for mercy, and finally threatened to kill the child rather than have the child taken from her.
"I will have mercy on you, with one condition - you have 3 days to guess my name."
Immediately Jeannie dispatched every resource at her disposal out looking for clues, hints and threads.
The next day the little man came and she guessed. But every guess was wrong...
Jeannie redoubled her teams efforts, increasing the bounty placed on the information leading to locating the little man's name.
The next day the little man came again and again she guessed. Again every guess was wrong...
Jeannie redoubled her teams efforts, doubling the bounty placed on the information leading to locating the little man's name.
And finally, improbably, because this is a story, one of her security teams was able to locate the missing link and find out his name.
The little man pranced in, eager to collect his bounty when she bent down and whispered his name.
His fury was so great at hearing her say his name, that he tore himself in two.
The End.
