~ Chapel Perilous ~

[Malaclypse 666]

Mal awoke. He started to stretch.. and panicked! He was weightless. He couldn't open his eyes, and he felt smothered!

Then the current version of reality kicked in. He started fluttering his limbs gently, and a school of Scrubbies dislodged themselves from him and each other. They seemed to "swim" somewhat erratically, probably still "digesting" the high-octane poisons they had sucked from his system while he slept.

He groped about the dodecahedral "Chapel" for his flowered shirt and baggy shorts, thinking that he would surreptitiously hit Shasta's bar for a gallon or so of Shaking Mountain dark roast. Perhaps Doc would be in his office...

*So! Feeling better, your Poopness?*

He took a quick inventory. Surprisingly, he had no hangover whatsoever. Minor miracle, that. Bloody Scrubbies were nature's own "dialysis machine".

"Umm, yes, your Chaoness. Say, I've been meaning to apologize..."

*Save it for the mehums, Bucko. You and I are beyond such mea culpas. The big question is, are you still the primate who can shine Pineals? Are you still up to the "job"? Do you even WANT the "job"?*

Once again, he took inventory. She had asked the right questions.. the very questions he had refused to ask himself for countless months. He wracked his brain for answers, and came up dry. Then, he looked into his heart. The answer had been there all along.

"I am your servant, my Goddess."

*Good! Then pack your things, Mal, and get ready to hit the dusty trail. Sirius has a new crop of grayfaced cabbages who need a little noodge. Now...*

"Wait! What about Baffin? What about the TAZ? My Flock needs.."

*Baffin?!? Baffin has become the "borscht belt" of Discordianism, Mal. Lip service, that's what I get. They haven't thrown Me a decent "Agape Ludens" in years! Your "Flock" has the tools. It's now up to them whether they get used or not.

As to the TAZ, they don't need you any more, sparky. You'd just end up barging in and upsetting the Apple cart. The TAZ is in excellent hands. Leave it that way!*

Mal shook the congealing water from his eyes, and a few concerned Scrubbies rushed in to lap up the salty residue. "As thou Wilt, Blessed Eris".

*Oh, save the trappings for "services", bud. Remember long ago when you used to call me just "Dis"? I kinda missed that.

Now, first order of business is to get us a decent new "Chapel", Mal. Head over to Honshu. I sort of like that winged griffin on the Geisha's mid-deck.. the whole "Serpent/Eagle" motif, eh? Then, I thought you might make a visit to...*

How does one make headway in a weightless environment? With a little "help from his friends", Mal was soon being propelled towards the Observation Deck "above" by what would become his "below-decks" Scrubbie crew on the new "Chapel.Perilous".

Oh, he would return. He would always "live" here, because this is where She "lived".

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