Timothy the Questioner - or, Let the Punishment Not Fit the Crime

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Timothy. Timothy had lived all alone in a house since birth; the people of the village all helped to take care of him. Although Timothy had no parents, he had a happy enough life, as the villagers fed him and gave him clothes and toys.

When Timothy began to grow up, the villagers began to tell him stories about Albert, the architect who built his house. Timothy enjoyed the tales, and was glad to know about Albert, who had provided him the roof over his head.

But as Timothy got older, he began to ask questions: If Albert had built the house, where was he now? Timothy wanted to thank him. Although his house was built of granite, the stories said that Albert had shaped the house from raw clay; Timothy wanted to know how the clay was turned to granite. And sometimes, there were differences in the stories about Albert; why is that, asked Timothy?

The villagers grew tired of Timothy's questions. They told him that they knew Albert existed because the house was there, and that the story about how it was built was a parable, not to be taken literally - but no, the man across the street said that it WAS to be taken literally, so...

Timothy grew more and more confused. In the end, the villagers finally told him that if he did not simply accept Albert's gifts, the boy would have to be punished for eternity. When Timothy asked why this was the case, the villagers grew angry and told him that Albert loved him, had built the house for him, and Timothy should stop asking questions.

After a few more days of questions, the villagers awoke one morning to a horrible screaming. They walked outside their homes to find Timothy's stone dwelling blazing, with Timothy trapped inside, burning alive. No matter what they tried, the flames could not be put out, and desite the horrendous temperature, Timothy continued to scream, and did not die. Outside of the house, pinned to the fence, was a piece of paper: Believe or burn - Love, Albert.

The villagers learned to live with the screaming and the constant smell of burning, melting stone. And every day they commented to themselves how lucky they were to be loved by Albert, the great architect.

The moral of the story: Eternal, fiery torment is an appropriate punishment for the damnable crime of asking questions in an uncertain situation.