Every day it rained, Ben made sure he went for a drive. It allowed him to participate in his favourite hobby of splashing pedestrians. He even set up cameras to document each victim so he could relive the experience during those awful dry spells.
Years of practice taught him the sections of road that produced the largest and deepest puddles. He took notice of the times of day when those sections had the most pedestrians. It was, by his own admission, ingenious.
Ben’s life took three dramatic turns over the next few years. The first came the day he learned others shared his passion. So many others, in fact, that they formed a secret club. The Association for the Liquification of Unsuspecting Pedestrians (ALUP). They met in secret, even developing new terminology. Victims of their mischief were called luppies. Drivers able to splash several luppies at once became known as herders. The highest honour bestowed upon herders was the splash down, where one or more luppies was knocked over by a deluge of water.
The second life altering change was the discovery of people who enjoyed being splashed. They referred to themselves as lupoholics. They began coordinating with herders so they could share in the underground experience. So fluid was their community that herders and lupoholics would often reverse roles. The years when the community thrived were the best days of Ben’s life.
The final change came when treachery struck ALUP. Several members, envious of Ben’s exalted status as a founding member of the community, arranged for Ben to unwittingly splash the mayor’s wife. They quickly ratted out Ben to the police. He was charged and found guilty of organized crime.
The judge, under pressure from the mayor’s office, used Ben to make a statement to other herders. Ben was sent to live the out the rest of his days in an arid part of the country.
Ben’s tale, though tragic, holds a valuable lesson for us all. Following your passion may start with a splash, but in the end you may find yourself all dried up.