Authors: Subterranean Press
“Down!” she said, and suddenly he lay down belly to the
ground, which was an awful lot of belly to hit the ground all at once.
“That dagnabbed snake is always sneaking up on me!”
muttered Henry, trying to catch his breath.
I stepped over and picked up the gun before he got back
enough strength to reach for it.
“That’s a mighty well-trained snake, Miss Valeria,
ma’am,” I said.
“I’ve had him since he was a puppy,” she said.
“Well, you learn something new every day,” I said. “I
didn’t know snakes was ever puppies.”
“They aren’t,” she answered. “But I don’t know what to
call a baby snake.”
“How about Godless Spawn of Satan?” wheezed Henry,
finally dragging himself to his feet.
“Shut up!” snapped Valeria.
“Priestesses can say ‘Shut up’ to a god?” I asked.
“When they look like
him,
they can say a lot
worse,” she said. “Why was he trying to kill you?”
“He was afraid I was going to horn in on the god
business, and also he didn’t want me declaring my undying love for you.”
“What is it with you gods?” she said wearily. “Can’t you
keep your passions, or at least your hands, to yourselves?”
“Now, Valeria, honey…” began Henry, but Bubbles starting
hissing and he decided that silence was the better part of valor.
“I don’t want to put no damper on your religious
beliefs, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I said, “but someone’s got to be the one to let
you know that Henry here ain’t no god.”
“That’s a fine time to tell us,” she said angrily,
“after we’ve been worshipping him for fifteen years and giving him a steady
supply of virgins.”
“You got
that
many young women around here?” I
said. “I sure didn’t see ‘em on the way in.”
“When we ran out of girls we gave him cows,” she
answered. “He was usually so drunk he didn’t know the difference.”
“I know they didn’t jabber all night,” said Henry
sullenly.
“Before I let Bubbles keep him, how do you know he’s not
a god?” she asked.
“Can he bring rain?” I said. “Can he make seven passes
in a row at the craps table? Can he turn water into Napoleon brandy? How many
winners can he pick if the track comes up muddy?”
“Those are all godly qualifications?” she asked.
“The bringing rain one’s just a trick, but the others
are all legitimate,” I said. “Hell, even minor league gods like Zeus and
Jupiter can do most of them things.”
“I see,” she said, glaring at Henry. “My people have
been a victim of false doctrine.”
“Well, then it’s only just and fitting that I was guided
to this here lost continent to bring you the Word,” I said, “me being the
Lord’s business agent, so to speak.”
“What will we do with
him
?” she asked, indicating
Henry, who was starting to shiver even though it was shorts and sandals
weather.
“You’re not going to listen to this charlatan, are you?”
demanded Henry. “I
am
a god, goddamn it! I’m Rakovekin, Lord of the
Outer Realm, Messenger of the Almighty, Spokesman for the Elder Deities,
Commander of the Legions of the Dead, Defender of…”
“You’re not going to list all 38 titles, are you?” she
asked in bored tones.
“I got an idea, ma’am,” I said. “Let him rassle Bubbles
two out of three falls. If he’s a god he shouldn’t have no trouble winning.”
She looked like she was considering it, and finally
nodded her approval. “I see no reason why not.”
“Well I see one,” complained Henry. “How can I pin
something what ain’t got no shoulders? I can’t give him no full nelson or
stepover toe-hold, because he ain’t got no arms nor legs neither.”
She turned to me. “Lucifer, have you an answer?”
“Since Bubbles ain’t got no arms, he can’t put no
Mongolian death grip on you,” I said to Henry. “And he ain’t likely to trip you
or kick you when you’re down. As I see it, that makes it a fair fight.”
“If it’s a fair fight, you can book my bet,” said Henry.
“I want to put fifty dollars on the snake.”
“I’m happy to book it,” I said, “long as you understand
that I’m giving seven thousand to one on Bubbles. If you win, I’ll owe you a
little less than a penny.”
“See?” he said to Valeria. “That
proves
it ain’t
a fair fight!”
“Miss Valeria,” I said, “I put it to you: couldn’t a
real god beat them odds?”
“I think you have a point, Lucifer,” she replied.
“And if he comes his hair just right maybe no one’ll
notice it,” said Henry bitterly.
“Come on now, Henry,” I said, “there ain’t no cause to
get riled just because you lost fair and square.”
“I ain’t lost nothing yet!” he yelled.
“That’s because you ain’t rassled Bubbles yet,” I said.
“But you already lost the love and respect of the delicate frail flower what
won my heart the second I seen her.”
“She’s
mine
!” he roared.
“She’s already guv you everything she’s got except her
crown and a couple of armbands,” I said. “Ain’t that enough?”
“To hell with the snake!” he said. “I’ll rassle
you
for her!”
I turned to Valeria. “You gonna let him insult your
snake like that, ma’am?”
She frowned. “He
did
insult Bubbles, didn’t he?”
“It was a slip of the tongue!” said Henry, backing away.
“I didn’t mean nothing by it. I think Bubbles is the nicest, pleasantest,
friendliest, most beautiful representative of all the hellborn man-eating
critters I ever met!”
“That’s it!” snapped Valeria. “Bubbles?”
Bubbles kind of snapped to attention, as much as a
25-foot-long killer snake can anyway, and waited for her orders.
“He’s all yours.”
Henry didn’t waste no breath screaming or cursing. He
just turned and lit out like Jesse Owens, and Bubbles took off after him like
Man o’ War but without the legs and the jockey. Henry was still leading by a
couple of lengths as they swung around a stand of trees and was lost to sight.
“I thank you for all your help, Lucifer,” said Valeria,
“but now we are without a god.”
“I think we can fix that without no undue effort, Miss
Valeria, ma’am,” I said.
“How?” she asked with a eager little tremor of
excitement.
Well, let me tell you, when you’re built like Valeria
and you ain’t wearing naught but a crown and some gold armbands, and a tremor
sweeps over you, even a eager little one, it just naturally is going to have a
positive effect on any nearby menfolk. It’s positive effect on me was that I
was positive I wanted to spend the rest of my life within arm’s reach of that
gorgeous body, except when answering calls of nature or playing cards with the
boys once I taught ‘em the intricacies of poker and figured out what a bunch of
naked savages had to bet.
“Easy,” I answered. “I ran old Henry out of here, with a
little help from your snake, so I figger that makes me an even greater god than
he was.”
“But he wasn’t a god at all,” she said. “You proved it.”
“Then no matter what kind of god I am, I’m a greater one
than he was,” I said with impeccable logic. “Now, I figger if you and me get
hitched, that’ll elevate you to the status of apprentice goddess, so the
people’ll be twice as happy with twice as many gods to worship, and it’ll give
‘em a purpose in life, which’ll be to gather food and drink and firewood for us
while we’re getting to know each other better.”
“It’s tempting,” she said with a little flutter of
emotion, and let me tell you her flutters put her tremors in the shade. “But we
have been fooled once already. We must be sure you are truly a god before I
agree to become your consort.”
I was about to tell her that I didn’t want her to become
my consort and would settle for her becoming my ladyfriend, but she looked like
she had her mind made up, so I asked her what kind of godly test she had in
mind for me, adding that I didn’t do no heavy lifting because I’d pulled a
muscle or two tossing the moon into orbit, and also that I didn’t speak
Sumarian, Aramaic, French, or no other nonsense languages.
“We must devise a proper test for your divinity,” said
Valeria. She lowered her head in thought for a moment, then looked up. “I
suppose if you can swim across a piranha-filled river and live through it, that
would prove you were an immortal.”
“I’m allergic to water,” I said. “How about a spelling
bee?”
“Or perhaps if each man were to hurl his spear at you,
point-blank, and they all bounced off…”
“Ping-pong,” I suggested. “I’ll take on all comers at
ping-pong.”
“Or we could cover you with
marabunta
.”
“What’s
marabunta,
ma’am?” I asked. “Something
like peanut butter?”
“Army ants.”
I never knew that a beautiful naked High Priestess could
be so bloodthirsty and single-minded all at the same time.
“I wish I could accommodate you, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I
said, “but you got to understand that no two gods are alike. We’re as different
as baseball players and pole vaulters and shoe salesmen.”
“And what makes you a god?” she asked.
“Well,” I said after some thought, “I play a mighty mean
game of tiddly winks.”
“Tiddly winks?” she repeated. “I have never heard of
it.”
“Darn,” I said. “I guess that means I can’t prove my
godliness to you. I suppose you’ll just have to take my word for it and move in
with me. If you want to bring a couple of them lesser priestesses to act as
cooks and housemaids, that’ll be okay too.”
“I really feel we must end all controversy before it begins,
Lucifer,” she said.
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” I explained. “Let
‘em controverse for a few years and get it out of their systems. In the long
run it’ll do ‘em a world of good.”
“It will?”
“Sure,” I said. “Now instead of falling asleep right
after a few hours of connubial bliss, we’ll make it a law that they have to
spend an hour a night discussing whether or not I’m a god. That’s probably a
lot more than most husbands and wives ever spend talking to each other after
they tie the knot.”
She stared at me kind of funny-like. “I can believe all
gods are different. You sound nothing like Henry.”
“Well,” I said condescendingly, “you know them New
Jersey gods.”
“I shall have to think about this,” she said.
“Fine,” I said. “We can talk about it right after you
and me consummate our godly relationship. In fact, now that I think about it, I
just remembered that I ain’t got no apartment here, so I reckon I’ll move into
yours.”
She shook her head. “No, I think it best that you keep
your distance until this matter is resolved.”
“But Miss Valeria, ma’am, this is one of the best ways I
know to prove my godliness.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
I leaned over and whispered what I was talking about
into her ear, then stood back with a triumphant smile. “Now be honest,” I said
as her face turned a bright red, “could any mortal man do
that
?”
I saw the slap coming, but I couldn’t duck it.
“In answer to your question,” she said with as much
dignity as a naked High Priestess could muster on the spur of the moment, “no
mortal man would ever be allowed to do
that
or even suggest it.”
“So that solves it and now I don’t have to prove I ain’t
a mortal man?” I asked, rubbing my jaw where she’d loosened a tooth or two.
“Now you have to prove that you’re not a demon from the
pits of hell,” she answered.
She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, and
suddenly the temple was filled with all them men what had been busy worshipping
Henry when I arrived, and I found myself facing the business ends of a bunch of
spears.
“You’re going about this all wrong, Miss Valeria,” I
said. “If I’m a demon I’m gonna kill all your spear-toting friends and
relations here, and if I’m not they’re going to kill me and you’re going to
feel just awful about having made such a mistake.”
She stared at me. “If I’m wrong I don’t believe I’ll
lose a minute of sleep over it.”
“Being a compassionate god or demon, I just can’t
countenance such bloodshed,” I said. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll rassle one of
‘em. If I win, everyone admits I’m a god, or at least a demon what’s a hell of
a good rassler, you move in with me, and they all agree to worship me.”
“And if you lose?”
“Then I’ll take your solid gold armbands as a romantic
remembrance and be on my lonely and heartbroken way.”
Whilst we’d been talking, the whole population of Moo
had shown up and kind of gathered around us in a big circle, and a guy who must
have been seven feet tall and almost as wide stepped forward. “Let me be the
one to fight him, High Priestess!” he shouted.