"Say. How are you?" asked the purple.
"Fine, for me," said the yellow.
"I see. I really do. Do you like waiting in line-ups, Yel? May I call you Yel? I base this solely on the colour of your raincoat," replied the purple.
"I doubt that, but feel free. Lineups... oh yes! Those clumps of people where you stand and wait for an attraction such as a roller coaster or a bank teller. I've never really thought about it, ol' Purp."
"Oh come on!" urged the purple.
"Fine, fine, I hate lineups. I hope you're happy!" the yellow exclaimed between sobs.
"I figured you would. Know why? It's natural. Most people hate having to share the earth with other people."
"I wouldn't go that far. I recall liking some people along the way."
"I bet you did, in more ways than one. Name them."
"My mother?" the yellow asked, his head betraying his confusion.
"You sound confused."
"But..." began the yellow.
"Ah!" interrupted the purple.
"Bu..." began the yellow.
"AH!" interrupted the purple.
"B..." began the yellow.
"Ey!" interrupted the purple, now thoroughly annoyed.
The man in the yellow raincoat paused. He appeared on the verge of tears.
"Let's start again," offered the purple, kindly. "You were saying..?"
"I wasn't - saying anything, I don't think," moped the yellow.
"What do you want from me?" said the yellow in a whiny voice.
"None of that," admonished the purple.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"Shut up. Of course you do!" said the purple, with a light chuckle.
"No, really, I..."
"Shut up!" yelled the purple, and hit the yellow with a hammer.
The man in the yellow raincoat tried to cry, but found he could not. He was too stunned.
"Now, you were saying..?" prodded the purple. "Something about how the earth is too crowded."
"No, that was you," whined the yellow.
"Me, you, what's the difference. Anyhow, go on."
"Well," continued the yellow, "there are really too many people on the earth." He started to speak more confidently. "The earth doesn't really need any people, so perhaps we should leave."
"And there you have your thesis."
"Yes," said the yellow, shocked at his own bravery, "I suppose."
"Actually, you stole it from me, ol' Yel," said the purple.
"No I didn't. You simply prodded me into thinking it up myself," said the yellow, annoyed.
"Nope. Lies. Not gonna work. Not this time," said the purple, sadly. He pulled out the hammer and began sadly hitting the yellow in his torso.
After a few hours of this, the yellow reached out and grabbed the hammer away from the purple and threw it into the ocean. "Ah ha," said the yellow. "Your true hostility comes to light!"
"Moi?" asked the purple. "I freely admit to hostility towards any and all humans. Even myself! For humans are a plague upon this earth."
"How so?" asked the yellow, now interested.
"Ever heard of DDT, oh Yellowish comrade?" the purple humbly inquired.
"Why... No!" exclaimed the yellow, shocked that he had never heard of something so widely known.
"It's a bug killing chemical. It slaughters insects. You see, they ruin things, and therefore have no right to live, wouldn't you say?"
"Well, they deserve a fair trial at l-"
"Shhh! I said, don't you agree?"
"Welll... Yes, hell yes, absolutely," said the yellow, now convinced.
"Fine then. Now, a crop is to an insect as the planet Earth is to...?"
"Umm... an insect?" guessed the yellow.
"We've covered the insect," admonished the purple.
"A different insect," stated the yellow.
"Nay! Oh nay say I! Try again. What animal's relation to the planet Earth is a direct parallel to an insect's relationship to a vegetable?"
"Like, which vegetable?" asked the yellow, confused.
"The left one!" yelled the angry purple.
"Oh. Um. How about lettuce?"
"Yes, okay, an insect's relationship with lettuce, for example," humoured the purple.
"No, that's my guess. An insect is to a crop as lettuce is to the planet Earth."
"In what way?!" said the purple, now very frustrated.
"I don't know. Don't lettuces try to eat the Earth?"
"No. Not at all. They absorb nutrients and give back to the Earth everything that they take from it. Think again. It starts with 'hume'."
"Humungous cabbages?" attempted the yellow, in a feeble manner.
"No. Humans. Humanity! You and I!" said the purple.
"Me?" asked the yellow.
"Oh," said the yellow. He turned about and looked guilty. He scuffled his shoes and looked at the ground. "Sorry."
"No need. It's not your fault you were born alive. Now you simply have to do something about it."
"Oh. You mean, stop living?" asked the yellow, with minor alarm.
"Technically yes, but we'll ignore that, as I need your help for Project Diditi."
"Project Diditi?" questioned the yellow.
"Ouiment. It's really quite simple - we get all the human inhabitants of this fine planet called Earth and we get them to jump into the ocean and drown. Then we follow," uttered the purple with an air of smugness.
"I see," said the yellow. "How exactly do we convince the five billion people living here to stop?"
"You leave that to me! Now we must part, but briefly. Go and seek out all your friends and relatives and a few complete strangers, and tell each of them to bring all their friends and relatives and a few complete strangers. I will do likewise, we will meet back here along with the populace of this planet in... twenty Earth minutes."
"Make it twenty-five," suggested the yellow.
"Indeed. Twenty-five minutes, here, you, me, the human race," said the purple, waving as he wandered to the East.
Twenty-six minutes later, the yellow wandered back with three billion humans in tow. The purple stood at the head of another three billion humans.
"Ah! There you are. You're a bit late," admonished the purple. "Oh, and let me guess, this must be the other half of the human race?"
"Correct," said the yellow, quite proud.
"Eastern hemisphere, western hemisphere," said the purple, and a few million greetings were exchanged, "Western hemisphere, eastern hemisphere." More greetings.
"They like each other," said the yellow, happily.
"Well, that doesn't really matter as they're all about to cease to exist."
"I still don't see how you intend to have them all kill themselves."
"Well, our society has offered mankind handy tools which are helpful in making intelligent beings do stupid things," confided the purple. He then turned to the human race and yelled, "Right then! Shall we commence.
"Look! There, in the water! Money!" he cried, and a billion people jumped into the ocean.
"Oh say," said the purple in a sly tone, "in the water. Sex!" Another billion people plunged into the salty spray.
Now the purple peered intently at the water. "There in the water, beside the money and the sex, isn't that... yes, it is! It's power!" he exclaimed, and a billion power seekers plummeted into the sea.
"Well," said the purple, taking the remaining three billion souls into his confidence, "I certainly respect you. You don't fall for such cheap treasures, and that's good." He paused for a moment. "Hold on a moment," he said with a feeble smile. "I've just spoken with God, Allah, and Buddha on a conference line. They'd like you to jump into the ocean. They promise they'll reward you if you do so."
Naturally, another billion people jumped into the ocean.
Two billion people remained. The purple's smile faded, and he took on a scowl as he shouted to the crowd, "Look what you did to this planet! You bastards! You should be ashamed!" There was some crying and another billion fell to the sea.
The purple paused briefly and shot the yellow a concerned look. "This isn't working," mumbled the purple. "They should all be dead by now."
The yellow now faced the crowd and yelled, "Could you all please jump into the ocean? It would make a friend of mine feel much better."
There was a moment of hesitation, and then the remaining one billion people dove to death.
The purple smiled lazily. "Thanks," he said to the yellow.
"No problem," said the yellow, joyous that the purple was now content.
"Now it's just you and me, Yelly," said the purple, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
"Delighted," said the yellow, taking the extended arm.
The two strolled to the edge of the earth together, lurched forward and began to plummet.
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