The Game

    There were the six of us there at the round table. There was myself, Death, looking quite dapper in my best flowing black robe. I polished my forehead sparkly clean for the occasion as well. To my right was Time, looking sophisticated in a red dress and a pearl necklace. To my left was Jesus, dressed plainly as always, yet clean and dignified. Across from me sat Satan, dressed to kill in a red tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and his beard waxed into a fine, sharp point. To his left was Nature, dressed as plainly as Christ and wearing a pert smile. To Satan's right sat Beastly Lust, an unexpected guest this evening. He was dressed quite shoddily, revealing far more chest hair than any of us cared to see and smelling like a moldy shoe. He wore an obnoxious grin as he leered at Time, whose dress partially revealed her cleavage. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
     "Shall we begin?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.
    "Yes, let's," answered Time hastily.
     "Very well then," boomed Satan as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a smallish sack of deep black. I must say I have always been impressed by the resonating sound of Satan's voice. He loosened the drawstrings, tipped the sack and poured out a small pile of white powder. With an evil grin and a sidelong look, he nodded and said, "Your lead Time."
    Time stood up, slowly and carefully, and glanced over her left shoulder. Satan wore a shit-eating grin while Beastly Lust leered and salivated. Jesus pulled out a small notepad and scribbled out quick notes and calculations. Time moved ever so slowly around the table, taking the longer path to avoid Beastly Lust. Nature scratched her head; not, I believe, because she was thinking, but rather because she had an itch. Time came to an abrupt halt beside Satan and looked casually at the pile of powder. She took a small pinch between her thumb and forefinger with a look of extreme indifference. She raised it to her lips and touched it to her tongue. Beastly Lust nearly fell out of his seat. I tapped Jesus on the shoulder and asked him for a sheet of paper.
    "Sweet," said Time with a voice to match.
    Satan raised an eyebrow and continued to grin. I moved my pencil around the paper, creating random shapes suggestive of infinite things. On the back I wrote Can you find the sex in this picture? and passed it down to Beastly Lust.
    Time stood still. She looked to the sky as though an answer were floating above her. "Discarded ash from the incineration of..." she began. Satan's eyes opened wide with approval. Nature scratched furiously at the itch on her head. Jesus whispered something in her ear. Beastly Lust was staring so intently at my doodle that I thought it would catch on fire.
    "...a winter dove," continued Time, "sweet and pure, innocent and good. Taken before her time and sent unjustly to Hell where her poor soul would be tormented for all eternity."
    "Bravo," rumbled Satan. "Nicely spoken. I'll give you an 8. Hell, eight and a half..."
    "There it is!" shouted Beastly Lust, standing up abruptly.
    All eyes turned to him.
    "There what is?" inquired Satan testily.
    "I've found the sex in this picture," he proudly proclaimed.
    "What is this all about?" asked Time impatiently.
    Satan leaned across to look at my drawing.
    "Right there," exclaimed Beastly Lust, pointing. "Can you see it? How many points do I get?"
    "Now just hold on," said Nature. "Will someone please explain what this is all about?"
    "They look like dueling sloths to me," observed Satan. "Not quite sex, although I see where you might get the two confused..."
    "Let me have a look at that," said Nature.
    I had to stifle a laugh. It was working beautifully.
    Beastly Lust handed over the drawing.
    "Now if that's sex," observed Nature, "then Death is a far poorer artist than I suspected."
    All eyes turned to me, awaiting an explanation.
    "There is in fact no sex in this drawing," I confirmed.
    Beastly Lust shot me a murderous look. Jesus and Satan each reached out a warning hand to keep him from my throat.
    "That's unfair!" he shouted.
    Nature shifted uncomfortably and scratched. She leaned to the side to check her seat, but could not find the source of her irritation.
    "Now let's give Death a chance to explain," suggested Jesus.
    "I was merely pointing out that our friend here could find sex in anything, regardless of the intent of the subject matter."
    "Nicely illustrated," commended Satan. "I say we give him three bonus points. I'd go higher, but the point was readily apparent anyhow."
    "Oh, I'd give him five," said Time. "I thought it was quite clever."
    "But wait," said Jesus, playing devil's advocate. "The challenge was non-objective. Because the doodles had no specific form, it cannot be said with absolute certainty that there was no sex in the drawing."
    "Yeah," agreed Beastly Lust.
    Nature handed him the drawing.
    "I see your point," said Jesus. "Give him five."
    "Let's get on with it," complained Time. "We don't have all night."
    I allowed myself just the slightest smile of satisfaction.
    "Jesus, I believe you're next," said Time.
    "I'm afraid I'm ill-prepared," claimed Jesus humbly. "I've only a riddle, and a bad one at that."
    "Stipulations?" asked Nature, still scratching.
    "It's an open question. First correct answer, five-minute time limit."
    Time nodded approval.
    Beastly Lust sat pouting, his ego greatly deflated.
    "Ask away," prompted Satan.
    "An unseen, formless enemy, I can bring even the mightiest down, and yet I inflict no pain. Although I received no invitation, I sit amongst you tonight."
    "That's easy," I broke in with a wry grin. "Beastly Lust."
    This time no one was quick enough to hold him back, and suddenly I felt the pathetic hands of Beastly Lust pounding on my rib cage. His odor was foul and I had to grimace. His face was contorted with unbridled rage. Had I not been so distracted by his callous shouts and feeble punches, I would have laughed out loud. He was a comical sight.
    Jesus and Satan again came to my aid, pulling him off and asking him to calm himself.
    "Must you taunt him like that?" asked Nature, still scratching.
    I made a quick mental note, then responded. "I'm afraid I simply cannot resist."
    When at last Beastly Lust had regained his composure, Time spoke. "At long last, can we get on with it? Is it too much to let Jesus finish his question?"
    Her icy glare was almost as fierce as that of Beastly Lust. I decided I would cool it for a while. She nodded to Jesus.
    "Actually, I was all but finished," he explained. "All that was left was to ask, what am I?"
    "Very well then," said Time. "The clock is ticking."
    "Is it some sort of virus?" asked Satan.
    Beastly Lust perked up.
    Jesus shook his head.
    "Is it a sexually transmitted disease?" asked Beastly Lust with childish enthusiasm.
    "No," answered Jesus with a laugh. "I should hope that doesn't sit amongst us this evening."
    Beastly Lust's face now matched Satan's jacket. I was quite pleased.
    "It was a fine guess," said Nature soothingly.
    "Is it evil?" asked Satan.
    "Do you mean that as a noun or an adjective?" asked Jesus.
    "I meant it as a noun. Does it make a difference?"
    "Only slightly. Either way, the answer is no, though when experiencing it, one might think of it as evil. In fact, it is amoral, completely without intentions."
    "Two minutes," said Time.
    "Jesus Christ!" shouted Nature, leaping from her seat and staring at something she held between her fingers.
    Jesus looked to her expectantly, then realized it was merely an expression.
    "It's a God damned flea!" she exclaimed.
    "I wonder where that came from?" I mused, casually eyeing Beastly Lust.
    "It wasn't me!" he shouted indignantly.
    "Who said it was?" I asked innocently.
    "Ah," said Nature with sudden revelation. "That's it, isn't it?"
    Jesus smiled.
    "An itch," she said wonderingly, crushing the flea between her fingernails.
    "Right," said Jesus happily.
    Satan nodded and shrugged, trying to appear unimpressed.
    Nature seated herself, greatly relieved. "Did you plant that as part of the riddle?" she asked.
    "Oh no," said Jesus, "I would never put you through such torment for sake of a riddle. To be honest, I was unprepared tonight and just came up with the riddle a few moments ago."
    "I would," said Satan matter-of-factly.
    "All right, all right," said Time, "We've no time for conjecture. Let's give her a score."
    After a brief discussion, she was given a score of eight point seven five, giving her the lead by a very narrow margin.
    "Whose turn is it?" asked Satan.
    "I believe it's mine," I said, standing up. The room was silent, though I believe it was more hatred than respect that kept them quiet. I unveiled the covered package which had rested underneath my chair up until this point. It was Humble Pie, one of my personal favorites. I was well known by my fellow immortals for my culinary excellence.
    I bowed my head slightly and addressed my expectant audience. "My friends, I realize my behavior has been disruptive and inappropriate this evening and would like to offer an apology. Before I begin my turn, I would be pleased if you would all join me in a slice of pie. I baked it special for the occasion."
    All but Time quickly agreed, their love of my cooking outweighing their hatred of my being. Time glanced at her watch, sighed heavily, then grudgingly consented.
    When everyone had had a moment to sample the pie and compliment me on its tastiness, Time insisted that I get on with my turn.
    "Very well then," I said. "I must confess I had ulterior motives for serving you this pie."
    Several forks stopped in mid-air.
    "Oh, don't worry, my friends, it's perfectly safe..."
    Slowly, the forks made their way to hungry mouths.
    "...and," I continued, "judging by your reactions, I dare say quite delicious."
    There were a few nods of agreement.
    "However, the pie lacks one key ingredient. Your challenge is to figure out what that ingredient is. In order to avoid any further waste of time, I propose you continue eating and try to figure it out while Nature takes her turn."
    "That's the best suggestion you've had all night," said Time. "Nature, if you would."
    I nodded to Nature and seated myself.
    "Okay, mine is a rather simple challenge," she said. "I am going to let out a continuous, high-pitched wail. Whoever can endure it longest gets the points, or if no one can hold out, I win. Ready?"
    Before anyone could answer, she let out the most godawful, glass shattering shriek the world has ever witnessed. Jesus was the first to bow out, giving a respectful nod and quickly walking out of the room with his hands over his ears. Time was next of course, having no patience. Beastly Lust at first found it to be a big turn on, but soon became frustrated and ran out of the room with his tail between his legs, in a manner of speaking. It was down to the three of us.
    Satan seemed quite immune to it himself, being accustomed to the anguished screams of the Damned. He actually looked quite pleased, a broad, sadistic smile covering his face. I too had a certain immunity, having on many occasions endured the wailing of the Banshees. It seemed that Nature's vocal cords would have to give out before either of us would break, but she was inhumanly persistent. At last, the sound grew too irritating for me and I went to join the others outside the room.
    When neither emerged after thirty minutes, Time insisted we call it a draw and they each received nine and a half points for stubbornness.
    "Mine will be brief," Time assured us all. "I will ask a question, you have thirty seconds to write your answer on a piece of paper, then we'll score. I get two points for each incorrect answer, while if any of you are able to come up with the correct answer, you shall receive nine point seven, enough to give you the lead. Any questions?"
    There were none.
    "Good," said Time. "Tell me when Time began."
    She waited precisely thirty seconds and then collected the slips of paper.
    "I shall read them off one at a time and tell you if it's correct. First, we have Death's answer: I say it should be disqualified as it was not phrased as a question. Well, it's true enough that I didn't phrase it as a question, although there is no rule stating that a challenge must be stated in any specific format. However, I did make the claim that I would ask a question and therefore I will award you the two points I would have received for an incorrect answer, bringing your total to seven for the evening."
    We all agreed it was a fair and just decision.
    "Next we have Satan's answer, which is Zero. No, I'm sorry, that is incorrect. Two points for me. Let's see, Jesus says, `There is no beginning and no end to Time. Time always has been and always shall be.' Nicely phrased, but still incorrect. That gives me four points in total. Beastly Lust says...oh my, that's obscene...I'm not going to read that aloud. Needless to say, that's incorrect. Six points for me. Lastly, we have Nature's answer, which is essentially the same as what Jesus said, bringing my total to eight points, added to my previous eight and a half points gives me a total of sixteen and a half. The answer was so obvious you'll all kick yourselves. Time began in the beginning."
    There was much grumbling and protesting, but no one was able to disprove the statement and so it stood.
    "That just leaves Beastly Lust," said Satan.
    "Hold on," I interjected, beginning to worry about my poor score heading into the last round. "You've all had plenty of time to think it over. I need an answer now. What's the missing ingredient?"
    "Patience, my friend..." said Jesus, holding up a hand.
    "Shit!" I cursed, my hopes quickly sinking. "How did you know? I just whipped it up quickly this morning instead of starting it a week ago when I should have."
    "Well, actually..." Jesus started.
    "Give him nine," cut in Satan. "That will keep him in the running."
    "But really," insisted Jesus. "I wasn't really ans..."
    "Sorry, no time for explanations," interrupted Time. "Going into the last round, Nature leads with a score of 18.25, I'm next with 16.5, then it's Satan with 9.5, Jesus is next with 9, followed by Death with 7 and lastly, Beastly Lust is left scoreless. It's your move, Beastly Lust."
    "It's not fair," he said. "There's no way I can win."
    "That's true," said Nature, "but you will play a key role in determining who does win. That's the way the game works. Sometimes you just can't win."
    "This round has to count double," he insisted.
    "We can't change the rules for you," retorted Nature. "It wouldn't be right."
    "Oh, come on," argued Satan. "Let him have the chance. You really think he's going to be able to beat us anyway?"
    "That's not the point," said Nature, "if we just go changing the rules whenever it's convenient, they become meaningless."
    "So what?" asked Satan. "It's just a game."
    "You know it's more than just a game," answered Nature determinedly.
    "We have five minutes left," said Time, indicating her watch. "The round goes on, rules unchanged."
    "Fine," said Beastly Lust disgustedly. "Same rules as with Time's question, where did the flea on Nature's ass come from?"
    Everyone was astonished by the question, but no one was more astonished than me.
    "All right then," said Beastly Lust after collecting the last of the slips of paper. "Let's see how you did. Nope, sorry Satan, it wasn't me. I'll take two points, thank you. Oops, Time thought it was me too. Guess that makes four. Let's see, Nature, what a surprise, thought is was me. Six points. Et tu, Jesus? Gosh, that brings it up to eight. That leaves just you, Death, and I know you got it right."
    He glared at me and then stomped out of the room. All eyes again turned to me.
    I shrugged. "I put the flea in her chair," I admitted.
    People gradually filed out of the room, grumbling about the unexpected turn of events. I suppose all in all it wasn't a complete loss. I ruined the game for everyone, made them all miserable, and finished a respectable second. I'd call it a victory if not for the one nagging detail. After all I had done to torment and humiliate him, why had Beastly Lust chosen to help me out? I would chalk it up to stupidity, but I could tell it was a very calculated move.
    I cut myself another slice of Humble Pie.