Ass Warfare

They developed on one of those planets, twenty-some light years from earth. Maybe it was the "Goldilocks Planet." Or maybe the "Three Bears Planet."

In any case, they more or less filled the space occupied on earth by humans. But with some crucial differences. This species was built ... lower to the ground. They were shorter on brains than humans, but what they lacked in intellect, they made up for in a more generous ... seating capacity. In a word, they had gigantic bottoms.

It would be tempting to say that their brains were in their ... posteriors. That might rate a rimshot, but it would not be true. It would be more accurate to say that their virtue was in ... that place. That's "virtue" as in "power." As for any other kind of virtue, I make no comment.

As it turned out, some of our large-fundamented brethren were more generously endowed than their fellows. They were known as the Big Bottoms in contradistinction to their more poorly set-up kindred, who were known as Little Bottoms. The Big Bottoms soon discovered that they could get pretty much anything they wanted by throwing their weight around, as it were. Before long, the Big Bottoms found themselves in possession of practically the entire planet. This, they attributed to Divine Will. The Little Bottoms, on the other hand, had scarcely any room to rest their inferior bottoms, or even exercise their lungs. This, they generally attributed to Fate, Bad Luck, or any of a variety of other reasons, but seldom to greedy Big Bottoms.

By and by, some of the Little Bottoms did begin to make the Big Bottom connection. And they began to push back. "We need some room to sit, too," argued the more clever of the Little Bottoms. And the pushback began to spread.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!" moaned the Big Bottoms. "There are still a few square inches we haven't occupied, and now this? What shall we do, what shall we do?"

But some of the Big Bottoms were made of sterner stuff. "Don't be such wusses!" they counseled. "This is our planet, and we can kick those little asses anytime we want. Or ass those little kickers."

"We're bigger, but there are a lot more of them," whined the faint-hearted Big Bottoms.

"Pshaw!" scoffed the cleverest Big Bottom, "Listen! And learn!"

And the clever Big Bottom began to bellow.

"Ass warfare! It's ass warfare!"

"Hush!" gasped the not-so-clever Big Bottoms. "Don't give away all our secrets!"

"Will you shut up for five minutes?" hissed the clever Big Bottom. Then he resumed bellowing. "This is an assless society, but some Little Bottoms want to make it all about ass. Big Bottoms are so good and kind and virtuous, the epitome of asslessness. But some Little Bottoms want to wage ass warfare! Not the good Little Bottoms, of course. They know this is an assless society. They aren't unpatriotic radicals!"

"Oh, Karl!" moaned the wussy Big Bottoms. "The Little Bottoms are stupid, but they aren't that stupid!"

"Five ... four ... three ... two ...," said Karl.

The Little Bottom banter began, a susurration at first, swelling to a pulsing crescendo ...

"It's ass warfare!"

"Bunch of radicals, that's what they are! This is an assless society!"

"Disgrace to the name of Little Bottom!"

"Right! No ass warfare! No ass warfare! No ass warfare!"

"Golly, Karl!" oozed the other Big Bottoms. "You da man!"

"You may not be able to fool all of the Little Bottoms all of the time," said Karl smugly, "but you can fool some of them all of the time, all of them some of the time, and they'll fool themselves the rest of the time."