Religion

 

 

A long time ago, in a faraway place...

 

A Semi-Naked Man sat in a tent in a desert. The tent was filled with smoke, and the Semi-Naked Man was breathing of that smoke.

 

Another man walked in and said to the Semi-Naked Man, "How did it all begin?"

 

"How the fuck should I know?" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"I was only asking," said the Other Man.

 

"Well fuck off, I'm trying to meditate," said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

The Other Man walked off in a huff.

 

 

 

The Semi-Naked Man sat in the Tent of Smoke and contemplated his naval and pondered on the Meaning of Life. He also wondered when his camel burgers would be ready, because he had a serious case of the munchies.

 

The Other Man walked in and said, "How did it all begin?"

 

"Didn't I tell you to fuck off yesterday?" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"I thought you might have had time to think," said the Other Man.

 

"The only thing I'm thinking is, why can't you take a hint?" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

The Other Man walked off in a huff.

 

 

 

The Semi-Naked Man was lying with a Semi-Naked Woman and lo, did the Semi-Naked Man give the Semi-Naked Woman a right good seeing to.

 

The Other Man walked in and said, "How did it all begin?"

 

"Christ Almighty, not you again!" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"Are you communing with the Goddess on the Origin of All Things?" said the Other Man.

 

"My fist will commune with your face if you don't piss off out of my tent," said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

The Other Man walked off in a huff.

 

 

 

In the Desert of the Faraway Place, a Lone Man wandered, seeking answers to questions that burned his soul. They also burned his feet, as he lived in a time when shoes were but an idea in the Mind of God. Or so he was told. By his mum. Who everyone agreed was a mad old bint.

 

He sought the Tent of Smoke, which had become lost to him, on account of all the wandering and the fact that he lived in a time when SatNavs were but an idea in the Mind of TomTom (the God of the Unmarked Path). But after three hours and forty-two minutes and seventeen seconds (which felt like forty days and forty nights), when he felt ready to allow the Sands of the Endless Plain to engulf him in their Embrace of Eternal Night, he tripped over a tent peg, which sent the bottle he had in his hand flying and his head plunging through the tent flap of that which he sought.

 

"Oh for fuck's sake!" came the unholy cry from within - which the Lone Man (also known as the Other Man) presumed was an agonised imploring from the Master to the trio of succubi who were presently gorging themselves upon his flesh.

 

"Begone, foul succubi!" said the Other Man; "lest I call upon all the Powers of the Earth to strike your gluttonous tongues from your heads and your heads from your necks!"

 

"Who is this idiot?" said the First Succubi.

 

"Oh just some fuckwit who keeps asking me when it all began," said the Semi-Naked Man (for twas He).

 

"Well that's quite put me off my stride," said the Second Succubi.

 

Then the Third Succubi wiped her mouth with a bit of old rag, and the Sisters of Damnation left the Tent of Smoke.

 

"That was a close one!" said the Other Man.

 

Even closer was the Hand of the Semi-Naked Man, which connected with the Head of the Other Man with such force that the Tent of Smoke was filled with a Resounding Thwack.

 

"Ouch," said the Other Man.

 

The Other Man walked off in a huff.

 

 

 

The Other Man poked his head through the tent flap.

 

"How did it all begin?" said he.

 

But the Semi-Naked Man was unconscious.

 

"Oh," said the Other Man, who thought he would try again tomorrow.

 

 

 

A Semi-Naked Man sat in a tent in a desert.

 

The tent was filled with smoke, and the Semi-Naked Man was breathing of that smoke. The Semi-Naked Man was bored, because the smoke was dissipating and the succubi had decided he had too much baggage.

 

There was a rustling at the flap of the tent, the sound of laboured breathing, a cough.

 

"For Christ's sake, come in!" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

The Other Man tentatively entered.

 

"Who... um... is this 'Christ' of whom you speak?" said the Other Man.

 

"No idea," said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"Oh," said the Other Man.

 

"Now shut the fucking flap, come in and ask your fucking question," said the Semi-Naked Man, who was developing one stonker of a headache on account of being unused to breathing more than 2% air in his smoke.

 

The Other Man did as he was bid. He began, "How did... er..."

 

"Go on," said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"It all... um..." continued the Other Man.

 

"Begin?" said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

"Yes," said the Other Man.

 

"Got any wacky-bacci?"

 

"Pardon?"

 

"You heard."

 

"Well, I... erm..."

 

"Sorry, can't help you then."

 

"Wait!"

 

The Other Man rummaged in his pouch and pulled out a handful of dark green leaves.

 

"That'll do nicely," said the Semi-Naked Man, a ravenous grin on his chops.

 

"So what now?" said the Other Man.

 

"Come back tomorrow," said the Semi-Naked Man, "and I will tell you the answer to your question."

 

The Other Man walked off in slightly less of a huff than previously.

 

 

 

The smoke in the Tent of Smoke was thicker than at any time previously. The Semi-Naked Man reclined on a mound of camel skins.

 

"Enter," said the Semi-Naked Man - and then chuckled, as of a youth to whom it has just occurred that the word 'enter' can have more than one meeting.

 

The Other Man entered.

 

"Take a skin, dude," said the Semi-Naked Man.

 

The Other Man squinted and scanned through the viscous smoke, in an attempt to find a camel skin that was not under the arse of the Semi-Naked Man. He failed in this respect and so plonked himself down on a bit of dirt. It was at this point that the Other Man noticed that the Semi-Naked Man was no longer 'Semi-' but was in fact 'Entirely' Naked. And he had his hand on his dong. The Other Man averted his eyes from the wangdoodle of the Master and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could do so, however, the Master (aka the Entirely Naked Man) said:

 

"Good shit, man!"

 

"Erm... yes... I was wondering..."

 

"Any chance you could get the chicks back, though? I do miss my morning blow job."

 

"Well... perhaps..."

 

"And afternoon... and evening... and..."

 

The Master drifted off.

 

The Other Man said, "I will see, O Wise Master, if it is possible that I could-"

 

"Never mind... what was the question again?"

 

"How did it all..."

 

"Oh yes, the beginning and all that... Let me just..."

 

The Master took a deep and lingering breath of the smoke.

 

"Do you have pen and paper?" said the Master.

 

"I have a clay tablet," said the Other Man.

 

"That'll have to do... Okay, are you ready?"

 

"I have been ready for this moment my whole life, O Wise and-"

 

"Whatever, dude... Okay, here goes..."

 

And so it began.

 

 

 

The Scribe (otherwise known as the Other Man) looked at the clay tablet, upon which he had recorded the utterances of the Wise and Powerful (and Usually Stoned) Master. And the words that were written were thus...

 

 

"What a load of bollocks," said the Scribe. But thinking the People would believe anything the Master told them, he went to the four corners of the Earth and spread the Word.