Troglodytes, Real or Not?

Long ago, Troglodytes roamed the earth as early humans, but they were granted a second chance to return as unseen observers of human life. Their spirits live on, tasked with bringing mischief and mirth to the world, hidden yet ever-present. Initially, Troglodytes coexisted peacefully with other humans. They didn’t know that when their bodies died, their spirits lived on and went to a sacred place. When the last Troglodyte became a spirit, God let them return to life in new bodies, not exactly new, but always as someone frustrated with life who needed a harmless laugh. They never meant to hurt anyone. Without free will, they followed a divine plan instead of making their own choices. This way, they couldn’t repeat old mistakes and kept things peaceful. Their mischief, while it might look random, never caused real harm and often helped teach or guide people, but the Troglodytes themselves weren’t blamed for it.

One of the best things about being a Troglodyte is that no one believes you exist. That means you can get away with anything; after all, how can you be blamed if people think you're imaginary? Troglodytes are the spirits of early humans, and when they come back, they act like playful troublemakers. They look for harmless ways to pass the time. Sometimes they sneak into art galleries and swap paintings to confuse people, or they hide the keys to the town clock tower so everyone runs late. Their reasons are all over the place: sometimes they want to remind people to pay more attention, other times they just want to shake things up a bit. Deep down, maybe they're even trying to make up for past mistakes, feeling a sense of duty to guide humanity in subtle ways. Teaching lessons through their harmless pranks gives them a purpose—whether it's to help someone realize the value of time or to bring laughter during a stressful day. At their core, Troglodytes find joy in the role of being unnoticed teachers of whimsy. For example:

“Any clue who painted your car?" the policeman asked an irate citizen. The cop tried hard to keep from laughing. It wasn’t funny, but it was in its own way.

“Yes, I do! I saw who did it. It was that Troglodyte son of my neighbor, that’s who. How about you arrest him or shoot him? Yeah, shoot the little bas.-"

“Troglodyte? You say a Troglodyte painted your car," the officer deadpanned. His eyebrow climbed the precinct wall, offering a fleeting look of disbelief that hung in the air, adding an extra note of visual comedy to the exchange.

“Yeah, the goofy kid ought to be."

“Sir, would you try to touch your nose with your index finger?" the policeman dryly instructed.

“Huh? That Troglodyte gave me the finger, too. What are you doing with those handcuffs?! Hey! Help! Call the cops."

The police definitely don't believe in Troglodytes.”

Neither do teachers, and they are supposed to be smart and educated. They are hard to fool, having heard every excuse ever used.

“Your homework got eaten by a Troglodyte? You mean your dog, don’t you?” the teacher asked little Johnny.

“No, ma'am, I don’t have a dog. It was a Troglodyte.”

“You don’t have a dog? It was a Troglodyte?” Always a teacher.

“That’s right, ma’am. I’m sure glad you believe me. Susie said you wouldn’t.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t believe you! You’re a lying brat who thought of something new. I was correcting your English. I don’t believe a Troglodyte ate your homework!”

“Well, ma'am, I ain’t got no dog, so it must have been a Troglodyte. That’s my story, anyway.”

Mothers are bad about it, too.

“Who broke the TV?”

“A Troglodyte.”

“Oh? Describe this Troglodyte. Do that for me.”

“Just sort of your average Troglodyte. Nothing special or outstanding about him.”

“Him?”

“It.”

“Come out from under that table so I can, uh, talk to you.”

“Uh, no.”

When, just short of being drunk, men believe in them. Why not? They see them often enough. They sometimes talk to them. They laugh at the Troglodytes, joking with them. Troglodytes not only humor them but also don’t nag them like some old bats at home do just because a man has a drink or twenty now and then. Anyone married to a witch like her would drink in self-defense. She used to be nice. Was that before he started to drink?

Old people claim that Troglodytes come to take them home to Jesus. Maybe they do. Since none of these old folks ever comes back, no one can say no for sure. The old girl is lying there ready to go. The family is gathered around and, frankly, getting on the old girl’s nerves. Why don’t they go away and leave me alone? Why don’t- oh, hello there. Are you here to take me to Jesus? You're not very attractive, are you? I guess the demons must really be ugly if you're one of the good guys. Be that as it may, get me out of here!

Priests hear it all the time. It’s not the devil that made me do it; it was a Troglodyte. Little Timmy was giving his confession. He was eight years old, so the sins weren’t a big deal. A couple of fibs, a few instances of disobedience, and one of cutting his little sister’s pigtail off. Timmy said he only cut one off, so what’s the big deal? Mom ordered him to confession, so here he is. The priest had heard it all before, so he told Timmy to make an Act of Contrition and apologize to his sister.

“Why should I? It’s not my fault. A Troglodyte made me do it.”

“No!” The priest shook his head, exasperated. “There are no Troglodytes! You did it. Add a couple of Our Fathers to that.” He was upset, not knowing that all priests got this nonsense.

Attorney Paul Drake was preparing to sum up his case to the jury. Mainly, he didn’t have one. His client was guilty. No one could get him off. Then it came to him. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The state has presented a solid case against my client. All the evidence points to him, and none of it points to anyone else. He was caught burglarizing the house. His fingerprints are all over the place. He was in a video! But, he’s not responsible. A Troglodyte did this.”

“A Troglodyte?!” exclaimed the prosecutor. What in God’s name is this? It was a good excuse, even though only an insane person would buy it.

“A Troglodyte?!”, exclaimed the judge. What in God’s name is this? It was a good excuse, even though only an insane person would buy it. This isn’t going to fly. He’d have to find a way to throw it out as not being a possible alibi. He wouldn’t do it; his clerk would. The intern would. When the judge was an intern, he heard some weird things. This one was the goofiest.

“A Troglodyte? I confess! I did it. I, all by myself,” the defendant exclaimed. Burglary? He’d be out in ten or twelve years. Troglodyte? They put him in the loony bin and never let him out!

Single women know all about stupid men. “The guy had the nerve to ask me to pay for the meal. He said he forgot his wallet. Naturally, I excused myself to go to the ladies' room and kept on going right out the door. This was a typical male stunt. They’d pull this and still expect to stay the night. Bet he found that wallet soon enough. The head waiter looked like a bad version of Frankenstein, but uglier. This was a typical male stunt. They’d pull this and still expect to stay the night.

The real perk of being a Troglodyte? You’re dead, but enjoy existing much more. No one believes you’re real. How can you get in trouble if you’re invisible to the world? Who could pin the blame on a figment of imagination?

Now that people no longer fear being burned at the stake, they talk openly about Troglodytes.

No one knows for certain that Troglodytes exist. They aren't entirely sure they do.

Troglodytes may well be the cause of the "Split Personality " thing.

Christians are told not to believe in Troglodytes. Jews sometimes question if God exists, and Muslims continue with their usual practices.

Troglodytes, if they’re real, wonder if they did, or didn’t, get a good deal from God.

It’s unknown whether or not Troglodytes can comunicate with each other.