Fairy Tale Spotlight: Our Divine Spinoff, Part 9

Having hired the singed fox and the chicken goat into my council, the three of us proceeded to unlock a rather strange mystery, all having to do with a set of gates and a hill. The fox was the first to bring it to my attention. “Not sure how it happened,” he told me. “Found them a short distance away from Gaza, just stuck in the ground like a gateway to nowhere.”

“In which way did they face?” asked I.

“Towards Hebron.”

“Any reason why?”

“Not sure why. Perhaps we should ask the wise chicken goat for his expertise.”

And so we did. We brought the chicken goat to the very spot that the fox had spoken of, and, sure enough, there were the gates of Gaza just standing there. When looking to the chicken goat for answers, we were surprised to see that his cheeks were puffed up full of air. No doubt he was about to breathe out an answer that would explain this mystery once and for all.

Buh ge-ge-ge habalabuh!

I looked to the fox for a translation, but sadly he was at a loss just the same. So we were back to square one. “I figure it wouldn’t hurt for us to visit Gaza and ask about to see what happened,” said the singed fox.

“Perhaps. I’m not really supposed to be there right now. Wrong part of the line.”

“You’ve come this far, haven’t you? Come on, let’s go. May the wisdom of the wise and goofy chicken goat guide our foot paws.” And so we all went to Gaza.

“He really has gone insane,” said God as he watched this.

“Yes, he has,” agreed Lucifer.

Upon entering into Gaza, it was painfully obvious that everyone was walking about with a particular consternation as to the fact that… well, there was no gate, at least on one side. We thought it prudent to split up and ask questions and so record the findings for posterity.

“Why is the author of the blog doing this?” asked Chris.

“Because he’s insane!” cried Mr. Nobody. Lucifer looked around as if he thought he heard something but then simply ended up ignoring the voice.

God explained, “The author of the blog didn’t have a lot to go on with this part of the event. The Bible–eh, that’s this silly book people read to learn about me. The Bible didn’t really cover this part extensively enough. I knew it was coming though, so that’s why I got everybody popcorn.”

“I would prefer more butter,” said Lucifer. God held his finger over Lucifer’s bag, and butter spewed forth from his finger in a rather weird way until there was quite a bit more butter in his bag than there was popcorn.

“Happy now?” asked God. Lucifer scowled and just tossed his bag away where it landed squarely upon Chris’s head.

“Excuse me, sir?” asked the fox. A citizen of Gaza was not sure who was talking to him at first. “Down here please,” added the vulpine.

The citizen peered down and gasped. “A talking fox! How strange!”

“It is not that strange if you pretend that it isn’t.”

“That is true. I guess I’ll do that. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering what happened to the Gaza gate. We found it on a hill.”

“Isn’t it terrible?”

“Is it though?”

“Oh yes. It was Samson who did it. We were all asleep at the time, but there were enough people outside to have seen him done it.”

“Who helped him?” asked the singed fox.

“He did it all by himself. Lifted the gate up with all of its poles, bar and all. It was an impressive show of strength, but most definitely in bad form.”

“Bad form?”

“The taking of one’s own gate is considered to be very demeaning. We all feel naked and exposed now. Egad.”

“Thank you,” smiled the fox.

After the singed fox got back up with me with the information, I then turned to ask my own questions, “So Samson was here?”

A soldier replied to my question, “Yes, and we intended to kill him. We found out he was with one of our prostitutes.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

“Well, it’s like this: We didn’t necessarily feel right about interrupting Samson and the lady of the night while they were in a romantic way. So my mates and I made a decision to wait out front of his door for when they would finish. We figured that dawn was a good estimate. Then we would go in there and slay him where he laid. The only problem was that he left a lot earlier than we thought and made off with our gates. That’s an extremely insulting gesture, by the way.”

“Yes, I heard. Thank you.”

And now it was the wise and eternally giddy chicken goat’s turn. “Buh giggity?!” he ask a soldier at the gate.

“Ah, yes. I’ll talk to you about it. You seem to be a very honorable chicken-sounding goat.”

“Buh gick! Gi-hick! Hububla!”

“Oh, it was a very brief but terrible fight. Samson just sort of busted out of the doors and tossed anyone away that got near him. It was dark and we were having difficulty seeing what was happening. It was not until daylight that we saw that he had slain a number of the soldiers on the way to the gate.”

“Buh ger? We-guh-guh?”

“Yes, that was when the gates were taken away. It really hurt our feelings. We’ve been busy creating little safe spaces for all the traumatized citizens. We’re helping to make some crying closets for them too, but we are having trouble obtaining the plush animals needed to make them effective. But it sure has been good talking to you.”

“Buh gi-gi-guh!”

“My, yes. So true!”

And so once the wise and flippity chicken goat returned with his side of the story, everything seemed to fall into place. It is my belief that Samson, after having his fun with the prostitute, became aware of the ambush and so turned the tables on them. After a brief battle, he went to the gates and tore them up, making away with them. This, at the time, was considered a very big insult. We may never have figured this part out if it had not been for the help of the singed fox and the wise and often horny chicken goat. [Buh gi-gi!] Back to you, God!”

“Thank you, T.K.,” said God holding a microphone. Everyone looked at him. He tossed it away and went back to the table.

To be continued.

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