Narrative nonsense

[SilasOfBorg]

.. because world and starry and I were discussing creative writing. Here's a sample of the goofiness that gets circulated amongst my small circle of goofy friends. Anything goes - poetry, shorts, fake wikipedia entries, etc.

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And lo, with thunderous announce did the heavens part. Amidst the blinding glare, great firey streamers shot forth, frightening man and beast alike. A great heat withered grass and cracked stone, and among them appeared an angelic vision, more beautiful and terrible than any mortal imagining. All present threw themselves on the ground, wailing in ecstacy and terror. Well, except Lamech, who noticed that the vision was wearing an odd sort of contraption on his face..

"You're a Glasshole!" he cried, indignation getting the better of his fear.

The angelic figure might have blushed (it was impossible to tell, what with the blinding glare and fiery streamers). "I'm surveying!" it said, somewhat defensively. Then, remembering who (what?) it was, it asked, "Shouldn't you be bowing and scraping, in any case?"

But Lamech, obviously missing that bit of wiring that connects the survival instinct to the mouth, continued on, "Surveying!? Didn't our Lord create this place? What's he need it 'surveyed' for?"

"Look, " the angel growled, "I don't know what Our Lord's grand plan is, but when he asks me to get out into the field, take the lay of the land, and make sure there isn't any land more than twelve hundred and eighty six cubits above sea level in the general area of the meditteranean, I do it! Ok?"

"Now get to the bowing and scraping already!" bellowed the angel, clearly losing its patience.

"Alright already! On with the bowing!" grumbled Lamech, muttering an unkind comparison between heavenly and his posterior under his breath as he stretched himself out on the ground.

A few months and many retellings later, Lamech's son could only figure that the Lord must have a soft spot for those who were a little slow on the whole bowing and scraping thing. But if there was something deeper there, he couldn't put his finger on it. A small voice interrupted his thoughts. "Abba? The orangutans are flinging poop at the lions again!"

He sighed. "Put them in with the gibbons, or maybe the mandrils. Perhaps it will socialize them a little."

Nobody had ever accused the Lord of not having a sense of humor.

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* note for the mythologically impared: Lamech was the father of Noah (yes, that Noah)

[LoneSoldier55]

people who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones.