Saturday, May 26, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 110.05

Harold laughed before he noticed the expression on Jasfoup's face. “Sorry. I didn't realise you were being serious.” He clapped the demon on the back. “Look, I'm with you. I believe in all the Heaven and Hell stuff.”

“It's not belief if you've had lunch over the Pit of Eternal Anal Spikes.”

“No, I suppose it isn't, though I still believe it was in bad taste for Dad to serve pâté at that meal.” Harold frowned at the recollection. The texture of the meat and the ambient smell had convinced him the meat wasn't pâté at all. “Nevertheless, despite my knowledge of the worlds beyond this one, and adding in the fact I met Cain shortly before he clubbed Abel to death, even I don't believe the Bible is the end word of everything to do with God.”

“You don't?”

“Of course not. Look at the inconsistencies. Genesis was written in six different hands over the course of two hundred years and appears to be an amalgam of of a dozen creation myths from around the world. It only seems 'true' because whoever compiled it took pains to weed out the less likely myths, like the Jatravartids.”

“The what?”

“'The Jatravartids, a species of blue aliens living on the planet Viltvodle VI, believe the world was sneezed into existence by the Great Green Arkleseizure. As a result, they “live in perpetual fear of the time they call ‘The Coming of the Great White Handkerchief.’” Their priests conclude sermons with a reverential “Bless You!”'”

“I've never heard of them.”

“That's because I'm quoting Douglas Adams.”

“Ah! I remember him. He was a frood who really knew where his towel was.”


“Take him down? No, He died out of my patch, more's the pity.”

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