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 godhood.”
“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
“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 godhood.”
“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
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