I'm one of those guys who keep things until they disintegrate in your hands. I wear clothes with holes in them. I still have my first blanket and bedroom fan. I still have this little fake tiger tail that with a long-dried out elastic band that you were originally supposed to slip into the clasp of a baseball cap - you know, the ones from the 80's that had the plastic pop-in buttons at the back.

I also have these boots that look like they've been road-hauled over rough concrete. And the shoelaces are falling apart.

So, one of these past days, I was going out food shopping with Her Royal Fuzzbutt (who was being a good girl and adopted her human form for me), when my shoelaces were slipping and sliding around in the shoe, being generally irritating. Like any rational person, I stop, kneel down, and try to adjust the laces, while Anya goes on, attracted by the scent of fresh-cut meat.

This man, probably in his late forties, maybe fifties, comes up to me and asks me, "You tying your shoes?"

I know, I know. Captain Obvious has struck again. But never you fear, dear readers - Mr. Darker simply does not do the mundane.

"No, in my haste to get going on this shopping trip, I stuck my foot into the mouth of a god that was taking the form of a shoe. And this whole time, he's been trying to bite my foot off at the ankle. However, I think I've got him under control - see - I've got his tongue out of his mouth. If he tries to bite off my foot, he'll bite off his own tongue, too."

And then the unthinkable happened. Captain Obvious asked, "Really?"

Without missing a beat, I stood up. "Yes, and Shoegod thinks that you should be showing more respect for a god engaged in battle with a titan."

Captain Obvious looked skeptical, "How do I know if your shoe is a god? If it's a god, then it must know which foot of mine is wearing the red sock."

It must be his right foot. I stomped on it as hard as I could. Through the tears and the hopping and clutching of his foot, Captain Obvious stared in wonder at my right boot, and exclaims, "Wow! It knew! How is that possible?!"

I gesture to my right boot, "Well? Aren't you going to kneel before the Shoegod?"

And more amazing than most other events in my life, the man went down on his knees and prayed towards my shoes. I stood there, both bemused and stunned, with a totally justified egomaniacal feeling running all throughout my nerves.

Of course, this is a grocery store, so someone notices. This truck-driver, who had gone to great lengths to perpetuate the stereotypical truck-driver appearance with the flannel shirt, old baseball cap, and dirty jeans, looks at the kneeling suburbanite and is, of course, curious. "What the hell is goin' on here?!"

By know, Captain Obvious has descended fully into the acolyte stage. "He's got a Shoegod on his foot!"

The trucker looks at my shoes, puts his hands on his hips in an "I'm-in-charge-and-I-don't-believe-you" stance and drawls, "A sheeewgawd? Well, if that there is a sheeewgawd, then it must know what tooth o' mine is all bad and needs to come out, but nobody's pulled it because dentists don' want to go near mah mouth."

So I kicked him in the face. And lo and behold, after the trucker is able to see and has stopped choking, in his hands were three yellow and black teeth. "Well tarnation! I guess there was more than one! Hey everybody! There's a god on this here feller's foot!"

It was about five minutes later when I had a crowd praying to my feet. Anya comes up, looks at me, looks at the crowd, looks at me again, looks at the crowd again, and asks, "Do I really want to know?"

Because Anya is a much more manageable size when not all fuzzy, I grab her shoulder and pull her close, whispering, "I've managed to convince the first guy there that I had a god on my foot by stomping on his foot wearing the red sock. And then I kicked the trucker in the face, and solved his bad tooth problem. Pretty much everyone else just toed the line."

Anya looked at me, looked at the crowd, looked at me again, and looked at the crowd again. She whispered back, the smell of meat heavy on her breath, "You mean to tell me that you got this crowd of worshippers by kicking and stomping people?"

I had to smile. "Uh-huh."

Anya looked at me, looked at the crowd, looked at me again, and looked at the crowd again. She whispered, "You realize I can't kneel in vront of you again, now."

Dammit.


Siouxsie And The Banshees - Juju - Sin In My Heart

7

you feel it first... in your scrotum