The Oracle Story and MRP

strategos_autokrator · 2015-01-09T13:24:40+00:00

So much wisdom in such a fun little nugget. I wish I could write like this.

psyflux · 2015-01-09T17:06:17+00:00

http://www.redditlog.com/snapshots/1460385

BluepillProfessor · 2015-01-10T20:21:08+00:00

This is the original story written by /u/CrimsonCapsule

Once upon a time, somewhen in the Universe, was a world nearly identical to Earth. They had the same desires, problems, triumphs and challenges; they had men and women and children and work and family, and all the joys and sorrows that come with them. Their world was the very duplicate of our own, save for one difference:

The Oracle.

The Oracle was a machine — a metallic cube of indeterminate age and origin. It appeared mysteriously one day and set about its only function: to answer questions, and to answer them well.

The Oracle's answers were more valuable than gold. Its advice, dispensed on neatly-printed cards, had saved businesses, stopped wars, and brought an end to famines. You simply asked your question, and, after enduring a faint metallic grinding noise, your answer would stick out tongue-like from the slot embedded in the Oracle's polished surface.

There were but two limitations: one imposed by society, and one by the nature of the Oracle itself. First, due to high demand, you were only allowed to ask the Oracle three questions. Second (and this was usually the tricky bit for most people), the Oracle was frustratingly literal. It would answer your question simply, exactly as you'd asked it.

And so it was that Bob found himself, after a long and back-breaking wait, at the front of the longest line in the world. He was a downtrodden-looking man, looking none the better for his days spent waiting for the Oracle's advice.

Bob was a weary soul. He worked long hours — it was easy to tell that much just by looking at him. He ate his fast-food lunches hunched at his office desk while he listlessly tapped numbers into spreadsheets. He dragged himself home, night after night, with the stresses of work creasing his face. But those problems paled in comparison to the one he was seeking an answer to.

It would be the answer that would save his marriage.

As the years went by, something had changed between Bob and his wife. The light had gone out of her face. She seemed dour, bitter, distracted. Sex was almost nonexistent — and it used to be so good! Intimate and wild and exciting! They'd spend entire days in bed, once upon a time. But those days...those days were just a painful memory now. Bob felt as if he were living with the ghost of the woman he loved. If his work depressed him, it was nothing compared to how he felt as he looked at his wife's face day after day. He was tired of begging her for scraps of physical intimacy — and she was clearly tired of being begged. Something had to give.

"Next!"

The stern-faced guard made a sharp motion in Bob's direction. Bob took a very deep breath. It was now or never.

Shaking, Bob shuffled towards the Oracle's polished surface. He'd practiced his question again and again, refining it to its most basic form — he was only going to get three chances to get the answer that would save his relationship. He loved his wife, so much that it hurt sometimes...but he was out of ideas. If this didn't work, he knew, it was all over.

Bob cleared his throat. "Oracle!" he said, as clearly as his nerves would allow. "How can I make my wife have sex with me?"

The Oracle winked to life; its slot glowed with a soft and enigmatic light. There was a grinding of unseen machinery, and then, without fanfare, a card extended itself from the Oracle's otherwise blank face.

Bob, his heart pounding, reached his hand forward. He took the card with trembling fingers, and lifted it up to read:

The simplest way is to force your wife to have sex. Overpower her with your physical strength and initiate sexual intercourse.

Bob's mouth dropped open.

Had...had the Oracle just told him to rape his wife?

Bob's face flushed with rage. If the Oracle had been another man instead of a metal cube, Bob would have punched him then and there. That wasn't a real answer at all! Was this a joke? He had spent hours formulating that question, and now he had only two...

Bob steadied himself, thinking back to the question he had just asked. How can I make my wife have...

Ah.

There it was. Make. In other words — force.

The Oracle had answered Bob's question, all right. But he realized, the cold sweat forming in his armpits, that he had asked the wrong question entirely.

He could still make this work, he realized. He just needed to reword his question.

"Oracle!" cried Bob, his mind racing, "How can I get my wife to have sex with me?"

Once again the arcane machinery whirred; once again the card extended from the Oracle's slot. And once again, Bob read the proffered card with quick flicks of his bloodshot eyes:

The simplest way is to manipulate her emotions. At random intervals you must disappear. Leave for hours or days at a time. Do not announce your departure. Do not announce your return. Your wife will agree to your sexual demands for fear of losing all that you give to her.

The first answer had made Bob angry; the second made him sick. That was it? Trick his wife into sex? Mess with her mind so that she'd grudgingly spread her legs? His wife wasn't dumb — she'd catch on eventually. And what would happen then?

"Look!" Bob shouted, desperation flooding into his voice. "I...I don't know what to say! We used to have everything — we had love and passion and desire! We had...I don't know...romance. And chemistry, and...we had fun! We had so much FUN. We had everything we needed, and now it's GONE. I'm at my wit's end! Tell me, just TELL me...WHAT CAN I DO!?"

Bob's eyes went suddenly wide with the horror of what he'd just said.

He clapped his hands over his mouth. He'd asked his final question, and he hadn't even meant to. He fell to his knees, his mouth already whispering pointlessly for a do-over.

But it was too late. The machine had already begun to formulate its response. And when it finally extended its tongue-like card in the direction of Bob's defeated form, it was as if the Universe itself was giving him a cosmic raspberry.

This was it. The last piece of advice Bob would ever receive from the cold and indifferent box. He let go of any lingering shreds of hope, plucked the card from the Oracle's slot, and peered at the neatly-printed line of text.

It wasn't even an answer.

It was a question — the question that changed everything.

Bob read it aloud, again and again, and, as he did, the stormclouds finally parted. He knew that there was a future for him, his wife, and his family. There was, for the first time in a very long time, a tiny glimmer of hope. He knew what he had to do.

A smile worked its way upward at the corners of Bob's mouth. He whispered the question aloud, and his world-weary heart leapt for joy at the new possibilities spreading out before him. Giddy, he read the Oracle's question one last time:

Do you even lift, bro?

Title	The Oracle Story and MRP
Author	BluepillProfessor
Upvotes	24
Comments	4
Date	January 9, 2015 4:32 AM UTC (9 years ago)
Subreddit	Posted in /r/MarriedRedPill
Original Link	https://old.reddit.com/r/marriedredpill/comments/2rtp4h/the_oracle_story_and_mrp/
Archive Link	https://theredarchive.com/r/MarriedRedPill/the-oracle-story-and-mrp.202695 https://theredarchive.com/post/202695