Why are you going to throw a pie at that man’s face?
It’s for charity.
But still, you’re executing this man’s comfort.
He gave it up willingly.
Just because someone’s willing to sacrifice themselves, is it right for you to carry out their wish? What if he isn’t of sound mind?
Then this ought to wake him up.
I’m just saying—asking—what gives you the right to make that call?
Probably nothing—but it’s fun.
As a kid I remember nailing the dunk tank with a fast ball, but it didn’t go. The guy sitting there just looked around and avoided eye contact like he didn’t see anything — like he wouldn’t be paying attention. The lady said, “Oh, almost.”
“What do you mean? I pegged it.”
“You have two more tries.” She smiled until I looked away. I missed the next one bad, but I nailed my last attempt, however the guy still didn’t dunk. I threw my hands up. The lady couldn’t smile her way out of it this time. She let me walk up and press the stubborn red knob, kind of like a friendly execution. The man put on his goggles and braced himself with a dry swallow. I looked straight at him, the serendipity of success washed from my face by the bureaucracy of the carnival dunk tank, and watched him fall.
allmostrelevant 