How Roc Became in A Tale in the Desert
(Roc like an Egyptian!)
Once there was an odiforus gas that dwelled in the Ether and wanted to be somebody. One day the mighty Goddess of the Ether, Herself, spotted the noxious gas and read his banner. And lo, though the Goddess of the Ether could not read, She quickly realized that the gas couldn't spell either or Ether, and thus She was able to translate the lament. And this is what the banner said:
SWF, (the 'F' meaning Fart), seeks meaningful copopulation with Electromagnetic Particles to form an image on a screen or sommat. No S/M. No D/D, smoking is okay though. Only Direct Current need apply...
The Goddess of the Ether sniffed of the Ether with a grand snort and knew immediately what it was She smelled. Loneliness...and some eggs. Really nasty eggs. "This little fart is a stinker!', She thought, 'I would be remiss in my duties to the Holy ISP if I did not pass the little noob off onto somebody." She looked around and spotted a likely innocent server. The Goddess nodded to Herself and downloaded upon the gas like arrogant thunder and overclock...
...and the little gas found himself thrown into blackness and some malestrom until he was hauled to a register screen who threatened him with a case of Lower Caseitus if he did not change his smelly ways. Smelling a chance to be somebody, the fart readily agreed. The Register nodded, knowingly. "Here then, shall we name you Scissors, Paper, or Rock?", The Register asked. "Roc!", the little gas squeeked. "Verily...", The Register said.
And thus Roc was made in A Tale in the Desert...
And so Roc walked across the lands of Egypt with his hands and feet, and then he came upon a river. "I know that river!', he said with suprise, 'Dats de Nile!" And Roc ran to the waters until the river flowed about him, and he looked upon de Nile and he said, "No way. No freakin' way...!" And thus Roc was in de Nile...
After, Roc walked across the desert looking in awe upon the trees and the sand and the grass and the mud until he came upon a compound. Roc sat down and took a stick and began picking at the compound, for it had stuck to the bottom of his sandal. It was pitted with pebbles and dirt, and even through the trodden guts of a scarab Roc could see that the compound was a muddy pink. For a compound, it was very sticky and stringy. I think it was really old gum...
Roc strode along the sands some, as he was some sans compound now, when he came upon a real compound. The kind with walls and a roof and paint and stolen cable! Roc thought it was a beautiful place to live and he realized that someone probably-actually lived in the compound. Anybody who probably-actually lived in a compound would have stuff...prolly really good stuff! In which case Roc immediately went to the sliding glass doors on the back-porch deck and began casing the joint for a way to break and enter.
And lo, thus did Roc commit a deadly sin in Egypt. As he pulled from his pocket a mighty credit card with which he would jimmy, and so slay, the sliding glass door's lock; the very sun of the Amon cast it's all knowing gaze down upon that which Roc would do. And It spake in a terrible voice: THE INTERNET DOESN'T TAKE DISCOVER CARDS!!! And Roc quailed because he knew darn well that his Visa was in his other tunic!
The Gods sent Isis to the place of Roc's damnation, for She, of all of Egypt's holies, was a trained CPA and tax preparer. (she also cashiered and part-time danced at the Swinging Sphynx club a long time ago. But that, my children, is another story entirely). "DO YOU KNOW WHOM YOU BEHOLD?", She asked him, and Her voice hit him like the roar of a thousand volcanoes.
"Yes!', Roc cried, 'Ain't you that Iris chick...?"
"Tell me you DID NOT just-call-me-IRIS!!", the Goddess spake, and from Her face and the way She snapped Her fingers to deliver the words 'DID NOT', Roc could tell that the Discover card was now the last of his worries.
"...are you that 'Cleopatra' I keep hearin' about? The babe with the snake?" Roc asked the Goddess, couching his words with meekness and sheepy mien.
"OH, I am SO zappin' you, punk..."
And lo, the Goddess laid upon Roc a serious hebbie-jeebie, and the fart was engulfed in holy lightening and conical flame. His pixels were burnt from his flesh and his resolution was stripped bare. And Isis sniffed and She knew what it was She now beheld. A noob...and some eggs. Really nasty eggs...
- The End