Dear diary,
Then, after Mr. Snake’s portrait has been returned and replaced, so that it once again hangs on the wall inside the Palace of the Lizard People, Sarah appears before Abram and Lot at the Meridian Bar in Mamre, and she hands back to Abram his walkie-talkie while mouthing the phrase:
“Mission accomplished.”
And Abram stammers: “What! So soon? How so? Do tell: I wanna hear all the juicy details!”
So Sarah explains:
“I commanded my girls to split into two equal groups, and I had them approach the adversary’s headquarters via the eastern and western pathways simultaneously.
“Now, as soon as they got close, they noticed the physical structure of the building was trembling. They assumed this might be the beginnings of THE BIG ONE: the long-prophesied volcanic eruption. — But, once they got the service door ajar, they discovered that the vibrations were due to the laughter of the audience: The crowd was roaring, doubled over with mirth, howling & guffawing on account of the portrait’s oration! For, you see, the club’s owner, Paul of Tarsus, had tried to force the portrait to act a part in his drama, because (I’m not sure if you know this) the picture of Mr. Snake can actually speak human language perfectly — he’s subtle & wise, & his delivery is flawless & eloquent.
“Yes, this oil-portrait of Mr. Snake, which the villain Paul had propped upon a stool at center stage, was going off-script: Instead of delivering the lines that the playwright (that same Paul) had written for him to say in his play, the picture was riffing extemporaneously on various subjects, practically doing a stand-up comedy set. Some of the other actors were dumbfounded; but a few of them were laughing right along. And Paul could be seen at the side of the stage, glaring confusedly — he was beside himself with resentment.
“So, after a couple hours of listening to this topnotch show (it was really decent material, considering that it was an impromptu effort), my girls stormed the stage, apprehended the picture, and marched it away, holding it high, with Mr. Snake all the while continuing to fire off wisecracks. (Most of his jokes were at the Apostle’s expense — but they weren’t mean-spirited: more like innocent reflections on the pattern of Paul’s bow-tie, which depicted a field of repeating crucifixes). In the eyes of the unsuspecting audience, the whole thing appeared as if it had been planned this way: they assumed that our girls were part of the show — the main act’s natural finale.
“Then, when our Task Force got outside, they all started to mount up on the parade of racing-camels that we had rented for them, which had been waiting to take them back to the cities of the plain...
“But suddenly the door of the club swings open, and out steps the actor who’d been performing the role of Paul’s neo-Christ in the play. He introduces himself as ‘Melchizedek of Salem’; and he offers our herdwomen bread & wine; then begs for someone to introduce him to ‘That paradisal portrait’.
“So they remove the silken covering from the frame of Mr. Snake, and this Melchizedek approaches and sez:
“‘Blessed be this masterwork in oils, this boisterous serpent whose comedic genius has won over my heart tonight! I haven’t laughed that hard in ages! O, thank you, thank you for a wonderful show this evening! You truly are a miracle of wit, and you are a gift from the Most High God.’
“And the fellow prostrated himself before the portrait; and he blessed it, and said: ‘Here, let me make a contribution to your career,’ and he began to open his billfold, to offer a donation: ‘Do I make the check out to “Serpent J. Scribe,” or “Draco Vox,” or some other agency? — Perhaps you have a production company or management that I can support?’
“But my girls stopped the man and said, ‘Mister Melchizedek, we were charged to ensure the portrait’s safe return to his homeland. He happens to be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords among the Cities of the Plain. Although your gesture is appreciated, Ouroboros does not need your money. He is a celebrity among the reptiles. His only benefactor is the creatrix of heaven and earth — the Queen of the Whatness, who always delivers him from evil; as she has done again, this episode.’
“Yet old Melchizedek tried one last time, and said: ‘Please, I beg ye, dames, allow me to purchase this masterpiece. For I am a collector, and paintings of prophetic asps are so rare. I will pay as much as 318 pairs of slippers: molten glass with golden trim. What say ye to that? Do we have a deal?’
“And our ladies, mounting their camels, saluted & sang: ‘Au revoir, thou pretend messiah; we wish you the best, but we will not accept from your hand, on behalf of Mr. Snake, even a thread from a shoelatchet, let alone ten thousand slippers, lest you should claim that you bribed our attorney Abram’s best friend (by which we mean Lot, the Prime Minister of Lizard-land).’ And they all winked as one.
“Then they sped back to Sodom, leaving Melchizedek in camel-dust.”
*
Now Mr. Abram smiles & sez, “Great job with the Task Force, O my travelmate Sarah — thou art a bonzer, spiffing commander!”
Then he adds:
“One minor correction, however: We should remind our herdwomen that, next time, it would be more accurate to refer to Mr. Lot as my business partner, as opposed to my ‘best friend’. — It’s just a detail, I know; but it could save us a lot of legal headaches, in the future.”
Just then, Lot and Adam disengage from their kiss. They face their companions at the table. After a pause, Lot tongue-sniffs the air.
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