In a time when heathens reigned, there was an old monk, who though weak from fasting, happened to make his way to the market. He was dressed in filthy mixed garments, and he carried a scent that would curl your nose hairs. His long grey beard had dandruff and dirt in it. His turban was coming undone, and he was going barefoot. It was there he sat down, on the ground, by a wall and observed the people. There was laughing and yelling, and smoking and cursing. There were consumers and proprietors disputing over prices, and chauvinistic pigs with their whores in the daytime.

  The Kingdom of Adonai was being ruled by a heathen King, Gojyn. Who murdered his three elder brothers to take power over the throne, then took their wives to marry, and had his nieces and nephews stoned to death. Gojyn had one son, Lucias. Who was a self righteous, malevolent, heathen, who had disguised himself as a commoner and went to the market, in order to perceive what his subjects truly thought of him.

  When Lucias came upon the monk, and inhaled his stench, he was disgusted and said, “Ugh! God! What is polluting my streets?”

  The old man gazed up at him, and Lucias looked down. “Oh, it’s a holy man. There’s nothing worse than a smelly, old monk.”

  The monk smiled and said to him, “That is untrue. There’s nothing worse than a smelly turd.”

  “I don’t smell.”

  “But you are a turd.”

  The prince stood befuddled, “I don’t have any money for you.”

  “Who’s asking for money?”

  “Surely, you must be hungry.”

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  “The Lord will provide.”

  “Pff! The lord.”

  “Young man, I’m concerned for the welfare of your soul.”

  “I’m concerned for the welfare of my foot. It’s about to be in your mouth.”

  “Violence is never the answer.”

  “No, opium is the answer. Say, what do you think of that, Prince Lucias fellow?”

  “I know not the royal bloodline anymore than I know last week’s toenail trimmings.”

  “Right… But, would you say he’s a fair ruler?”

  “Adonai fell from its glory many generations ago.”

  “How do you feel about the taxes? Are they unjust?”

  “Give to the king what is his.”

  “Now you’re talking sense. What’s your stance on homosexuality.”

  In a stern voice, the monk replied, “It is an abomination!”

  “Now, hold your tongue! What is wrong with a man showing love for another man?”

  The monk began to weep, “Adonai is fallen. The once glorious kingdom, where Gods walked among men, left in the hands of mortals!”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And how could you, prince of Sheol?! Land of gloom. Completely separated from the light of God…”

  “Easy, there monk.”

  “I declare unto you a prophecy! Adonai, shall be reconciled. She will be returned to her state of grace, and the wicked shall perish.”

  “Now you’re just just being stupid.”

  “Stupid is… as stupid does.”

  “Now, that’s clever. Did you just make that up?”

  “It’s doctrine.”

  “I must say, monk. You certainly are an interesting fellow. I’m sure you must meet my father. He loves talking politics. Come with me! Let me be thy host. I bid you, have a bath and eat swine with me.”

  The famished monk could not resist the offer.

  “Walk.” Said the prince.