A month ago, my lazy sloth of a Great Uncle, Stoffel, invaded my home. Schrutes are obligated to provide lodging for family members, so long as they're willing to hunt, slaughter, and/or cure meat in exchange for their room and board. Stoffel refuses to do any work of any kind. He just sits around on our wolverine-skinned couch, drinking tea, reading books, and shivering. The man is truly a 104 year-old menace to society and an example of what happens when a Rumspringa lasts from the Roaring Twenties through the Swinging Sixties.
Stoffel's continued hedonistic lifestyle is a symptom of a pandemic sweeping the globe: with the spread of modern medicine, the elderly continue to live longer and longer, surviving despite their deteriorating bodies and minds, and burdening society with their "needs" (Note: insulin is a privilege not a right). A person should only exist as long as he proves beneficial to his community. Schrute children adhere to this rule by the age of 6 or else they're permanently reassigned to a weaker, more tolerant family. So why can't old people abide?
Unfortunately, humanity seems to lack the backbone to demand that the elderly continue to contribute until they terminate. Instead we both indulge their laziness and demean them, locking them away in retirement homes while they slowly rot in a medicated stupor. The thought seems to be, the elderly, like most minority groups, enjoy being grouped together in a designated living area. But what if we stripped them of their pills and deprived them of their Rascal scooters, perhaps the elderly would stand up and face death like a man: head on, in a battle royal. Win or lose, they'd be more alive than they are now, even if the exertion caused them to cease living.
I'm proposing we take all the seemingly washed-up old geezers sucking at society's teat like wrinkled old leaches and put them on some remote island. There, they would compete for survival in a format not un-like the popular television program Survivor, only there would be no challenge rewards, medical assistance, or immunity. Just old men and women working together to battle time and Mother Nature, reliving their glory days in some treacherous tropical paradise.
Some would surely die, many immediately, but at least they would die with dignity. Plus there would be those that rise to the occasion-that fight and triumph against the odds. They would of course be welcomed back to our youthful society as conquering heroes, free to live out their days however they see fit. I only pray that if my body ever shows any signs of corrosion, that I'm given such an opportunity. There's no way I'm going out like old Stoffel, annoying my relatives as I slowly expire. Better to die living my life with honor: sabotaging my opponents, crushing my competition, and surviving no matter what the costs.
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