The Button

"So what does this button do?"

"Nothing.  Don't touch it."

"But it does nothing so why not?"

"It does nothing that you'd like to see."

"That's what you said last time before I poked the alligator with a stick, and I thought that was interesting."

"This time I'm serious."

"Just letting you know that I actually like explosions and going really fast."

"It is neither of those things.  Don't touch it."

"But it's RED!  You have to push red buttons!"

"The bright color is supposed to deter you; a warning that bad things happen if you touch it."

"Why even have a button that only does bad things?"

"Because maybe it fixes things if they've already gone bad."

". . .Is boredom bad enough?"

"No."

". . .how about. . .superboredom?"

"No."

"Ultraboredom?"

"No form of boredom is ever bad enough."

"Borelexia?"

"What did I just say?"

"But it's a condition, not a type of boredom!"

"Stop making things up."

"Okay, then tell me what the button does."

"No."

"But there's nothing else to do here!"

"Then take a nap or something."

"I'm not tired."

"You've been up all last night, how are you not even a little tired?"

"I stole the last of your coffee at the last rest-stop."

"The coffee you said a hobo stole?"

"Yep."

"That's also why you had to go to the bathroom right after, huh?"

"Mmhmm."

"That's one mystery solved."

"So what's the button do?"

"Just wait for the coffee to wear off."

"But I'm bored!"

"So be bored."

"I'm gonna push the button."

"Do it and I take away your dessert for a week."

"Awww.  Please?"

"No.  Have you tried looking out the window?"

" 's just sand."

"And cactuses."

"Yeah, but those are lame too."

"Clouds?"

"Boring."

"Read a book."

"Don't have one."

"Look in the backpack."

". . .A complete history of the park bench?"

"Yes, it's educational."

"Bleh.  That's worse than boredom."

"Try it."

"No."

"What about the other book?"

"Other book?"

"In the other pocket."

"Oh!. . .It doesn't have a title."

"It's about trees."

"Sounds boring."

"Try it."

"No."

"Just sit there then."

"Are you suuuuuuure I can't push the button?"

"Yes."

". . ."

". . ."

"Fine, I'll read the book."

"Park benches?"

"No, trees."

". . ."

" 'For many long years there were Ents in the forest that roamed and kept the trees. . .' "