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Permission granted by author for anyone to distribute this
writing free of charge (including translation into any
language)...under condition that no profit is made therefrom,
and that it remain intact and complete, including title and 
credit to the original author.

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

(A True Tale From The Castro. Eat your heart out, Armistead!)

© 1997 by Ezekiel J. Krahlin
(Jehovah's Queer Witness)

     Genie pulled the magic pen from a shirt pocket and began
to scribble on a napkin.  RandyZeus rolled his eyes to the
ceiling and muttered through a mouthful of bokchoy:  "Never a
dull moment, Lords preserve us!"  Then set down his chopsticks
to lean across the table and kiss his good buddy on the
temple.  "Give yourself a break LittlePony," he pleaded, "your
dinner's getting cold."

     But Genie, absorbed in the napkin, waved him away:  "In
a minute Dad, in a minute," and wrote:

          My FruitOfTheForbiddenTreeOfKnowledgeOf-
     GoodAndEvil underpants turned into a jockstrap
     made of communion wafer dough (stolen from the
     Church of the Holy NuRedeemer only five blocks
     from my residence), due to a genetically
     engineered, artificially intelligent enzyme that
     escaped from the lab of a mad scientist (the same
     one that released AIDS), who was now trying to
     turn base metal into gold by way of NanoBiological

          Not yet perfected, the NeoEnzyme could only
     turn cotton fiber (or cotton/polyester blend) into
     Manna; but, being intelligent enough to escape--it

     Shoving aside the plate, LittlePony unfolded his napkin
for more writing space, flattened it on the table, and
continued (while Randolph tried to figure out how to open his
fortune cookie):

          It was a dark and stormy night.  The enzyme
     first sneaked upstairs to discover an empty,
     gloomy hall leading to a grand room bejewelled in
     stained glass and lit by a solitary candle.  (As
     it turned out, the mad scientist also fancied
     himself a priest just because he had the papers,
     and lived in the Holy NuRedeemer rectory.  His
     "lab" was in a basement sacristy.)

          The excited enzyme grew thirsty from
     apprehension (fear of being caught, or eaten by a
     bacterium, and stumbling upon a world it never
     dreamed existed)--and discovered an enormous lake
     at the top of a marble pedestal.  Cooled,
     refreshed, and resurrected, it swam twenty laps
     before exploring other lands.

     Genie paused to ask the waiter for a bunch of napkins,
but the waiter misunderstood and returned with only one. "How
many did you say?" asked the incredulous matre d'. Meanwhile,
Randolph discovered the corner of a tiny strip of paper
sticking out of the cookie (and wondered how to eat it without
swallowing the fortune), as HisDarling resumed the napkin

          Of course, you and I know that the water it
     swam in was not a lake, but a baptismal font.  As
     a result, being intelligent enough to receive
     grace--it received grace.  It was now a
     SoldierOfGod, and the mad scientist (it now
     realized) was TheBeastHimself:  TheBeastOfThe-
     Apocalypse, TheDreaded666!

          "I must secrete myself somewhere safe to
     figure all this out, and plan my strategy of
     attack," it thought, and soon found a gold chalice
     in which to hide.  After armoring itself in chain
     mail, sword, helmet, shield and lance, thanks to a
     communion wafer resting in the goblet (for the
     enzyme could turn food into base metal), it left
     its secret sanctuary to slay the DragonBeast and
     begin its Quest4TheHolyGrail.

          But this being a strange new world, it
     quickly lost its way and stopped before a place
     called "Badlands".  In the distance it spied a
     mountain of feces guarded by a swarm of ferocious,
     GossamerWing dragons, and declared:  "Aha!
     TheBeast leaves a trail!"  So it marched in the
     direction of Castro Street, but lost the trail and
     found itself in a Chinese restaurant at the
     BirkenstockNOT feet of a diner who sat scribbling
     notes on a napkin.  The enzyme ducked for cover
     under the JordacheJeansNOT cuff of the patron's
     leg, as a huge, white boulder suddenly fell from
     the sky (in reality, a single grain of cooked

          Ascending the leg like a rock climber
     (rappelling itself up from springy branch to
     springy branch) in pitch dark, it finally reached
     a dead-end plateau:  a musky-smelling cavern with
     nowhere to go but down. "Gee it's hot in here!"
     complained the enzyme, who explored the darkness
     for a source of water.  Instead, it slipped on a
     puddle of viscous matter which, to its delight,
     proved not only to be an edible form of protein,
     but ThristQuenching as well.  "Yum!  Tasty!" it
     thought, "And it doesn't even need soy sauce!"

     Genie lifted his pen:  he was stuck, didn't know what to
write next.  In frustration he scribbled:

          Since Genie's underpants was now an edible
     jockstrap--due to a chemical exchange as a result
     of the hungry enzyme's SalivaDrool mingling with
     CrotchSweat (and consequently absorbed by the
     cotton underwear)--Daddy gobbled it all up in
     sweet lick after sweet lick.

     RandyMan, upset by his boy's now-cold dinner (the bright
red sauce had jelled), tapped the lad's arm to break his
napkin reverie.  "Jehovah's jism!" he pointed with a firm
DoAsISay finger, "Eat your dinner now, so I can eat your
jockstrap later!"

     The SonOfMan dropped the magic pen and scarfed up all his
Sweet&SourPrawns in record time...for LittlePony was a
VeryGoodBoy (and a VeryGoodBoy was he)!

          Exiting through Genie's YvesSt.LaurantNOT
     sleeve (resting on the table), the CrusaderEnzyme
     continued its holy mission, marching across a vast
     tundra of dark earth.  The only trees seen
     numbered four, and were felled (in reality:
     chopsticks). The bare land was scattered with
     oblong boulders, tiny green ponds, and crimson tar
     pits (whose amber grip of death contained
     countless bodies of MiniCenturions that had failed
     in their quest).  "Yes! Yes!  Signs of TheBeast!"
     proclaimed the HeroEnzyme, "Hot on the trail once

          It finally reached a broad mesa, scaled it,
     and stood before the fortune cookie, sword drawn.
     "Come out, come out, you ScalyPervert!  I avenge
     my brothers!"  Its voice echoed through the empty
     land. EnzymeMan stole up to the CookieFortress and
     peered in: vacant!  "Hmmm!  Well-lit, cool, cozy
     and secure!  Time for a brief respite!"  it
     thought, and entered, covering itself under the
     single thin blanket for twenty winks.

     At home, RandyGod extricated the cookie fortune with a
tiny tweezers from his SwissArmyGibbeler, uncurled it, and