Bob the Kiwi
But Scoot levitated whilst he meditated, and Matt didst blink at him, then he didst walk back out of reality. He didst walk back in a moment later, as if expecting something else.
But Scoot was still levitating whilst he was meditating.
‘Hast thou been in the Kentucky Fried Chicken again?’ asked the God of Being Crunchy, and Good with Catsup.
But Scoot didst continue to meditate and levitate, in deep thought.
‘Eureka!’ quoth Scoot as he didst open his eyes without warning.
Matt didst sniff his armpit, then said unto him, ‘I do not!’
‘No,’ quoth Scoot, ‘I just thought of something.’
‘Did it hurt?’ spake the God of Froot Loops.
‘Ha!’ quoth Scoot. ‘Verily I say, every time thou hear’st me, thou shalt agree: Nothin’ floats a brotha like the K-F-C!’
‘Verily I say,’ spake Matt, ‘thou art too good what thou doeth!’
‘I shouldst come with a Surgeon General’s Warning!’ laughed Scoot.
‘But I am come to tell thee a tale of old,’ the God of Military Intelligence said unto him. ‘Gather the Dudes, and I shall tell thee of Bob the Kiwi.’
And the Dudes didst gather around Matt, and he said unto them: ‘In this very Library, Derrick once shavèd a kiwi with a spoon; he didst keep it in a plant… over in… that corner.’
‘ ’Tis a sign!’ cried a woman.
‘One day, the kiwi didst disappear, as if it had grown legs and took a walk, and left him all alone.
‘We have foreseen that Bob the Kiwi will one day return, but we knoweth not what will happen when that day cometh, save to say that it will be some bad shit.’
‘Many thanks for this divine revelation, mighty God of Oxymorons!’ quoth RJ. And he didst bow before them, prostrate at their feet.
‘I liketh the way thou boweth—’
‘Hold thee on!’ quoth Brian Fritz. ‘Stop one minute! For I canst bow better than he!’
‘Pud,’ quoth RJ, ‘thou shouldst not interrupt a God of Hondo! ’Tis bad luck.’
‘Shut up, suck-up!’ quoth Brian Fritz. ‘Since they art going to torture me anyway, what careth I? I am sick of watching thee bow like a wimp. Allow me to show thee how ’tis done!’
And he didst bow before the God of Oxymorons, and a hell of a lot better than RJ ever couldst.
‘I like the way thou boweth!’ spake the God of Defying Gravity. ‘But thou art still going to be the Sacrificial Goat, for thou shalt always hold the lowest rank in Hondo. And, just for that, thou shalt have another millennium added to thy sacrifice.’
‘Ah, fuck!’ quoth Brian Fritz. ‘Why me?’
‘ ’Cause thou’rt the Hans!’ sang Matt. ‘Speaking of which, we got bored again and so came up with a new nickname for thee: Yoco. Now thou shalt be called Brian Fritz Pud Yoco Skanky-Bitch.
‘RJ, on the other hand, as I was saying before thou interrupted me, shalt now be the Bishop of Hondo. Now I must away to sit with Derrick and watch all the spooky things which shall come to pass tonight. Fare thee well!’
And the God of Vanishing Acts didst vanish from their midst.