A Zen master was nervously awaiting news as to the state of his Zen license. He had recently ticked off the Zen Council (which is a thing) by selling shoddy Zen wares – faulty rugs, clunky chimes, Zen booklets filled with swears – and the future of his zen-hood was in peril.
“What shall I do if I lose my Zen license?” he wondered, “I have no marketable skills, despite what my mother says. I fear I shall die broken and destitute on a shoddy rug.”
Suddenly, a light appeared in the sky. In the middle of the light was what looked like a lady one minute and a golden dog the next.
“Zen master,” a sweet, barkly voice said from out of the light, “fear not. While you fret and hem and haw and ham, I have taken steps to ensure that your license to Zen remains viable for the next three to six years.”
“What the hell?” thought the Zen master, “What the hell?”
“I expect no thanks,” continued the glowing woman-dog thing in the sky, “just a small contribution to my – my fund. My charitable fund. It’s a fund.”
The Zen master was so spooked and weirded out by whatever the hell, that he dropped a few dollars in the can that the dog thing was holding out on some sort of tentacle paw appendage.
“Later!” the thing called out. And vanished.
The Zen master was stunned and shaken, but pleased that his Zen license was no longer in danger.
He was soon stunned and saddened when he found out that he had, in fact lost his license as well as his boat which the Zen Council took because YES they can do that (they hold all the cards!).
“But,” said the Zen master, “but, there was this dog -”
“You weren’t taken in by the dog-head-woman-light-thing, were you?” they asked.
“M – maybe.”
“Lulz!” they shouted (which is Zen for “LOL!”), “taken in by that thing! We hope you learned your lesson and enjoy all your NOTHING!” And, they Zenned* away.
The Zen master never saw the dog-floaty-woman thing again. He did, however, start a rather successful lemon-ice stand and drank a lot.
*Zen (v) – to noisily depart with hooting and subtle flatulence sounds