In the Southlands there once stood a Bivouac inhabited by a Fire Demon and a Wild One at some times, and the Wild One and the woman called Spice at other times. There were many interesting things about the Bivouac, ranging from the sculptures in the yard (odd amalgamations of works rescued from the Art School dumpsters) to the bag of marbles hanging by the door (available for any who thought they might have lost theirs). Of import to this story, however, were the odd things written on the inside wall beneath the light switch, and how they came to be there.
Because the Bivouac looked so strange, and because it stood in the Southlands, it garnered quite a bit of attention from passersby. Perhaps it was the ironing board in the triangle. Perhaps it was the machete pinning the pink-tutued figure to the tree under a sign reading "Blood and Souls for Lord Arioch!" Perhaps it was the way the word "Shack" spray painted on the house had been crossed out, and "Bivouac" painted underneath. In any event, the structure was noticed and remarked upon.
The Preaching Christians (who had exorcised the demons of the young God Emperor in another story) came to hear of this house, and decided that it must be inhabited by Devil Worshippers. The local constabulary shared this opinion, as did the local Tribes of Greek Letters. This assumption caused both amusement and consternation to the Bivouac and its friends, for sometimes the Christians would try to Preach to them, sometimes the local constabulary would try to find reasons to arrest them, and on at least one occasion the Tribes of Greek letters attacked the house with rocks (The Wild One defended their home mightily, but that is story never told.).
One night in the Bivouac, on the car seats set across the rafters of the attic, the situation was debated.
"It's all just Primate mentality," said the Girl. She was speaking from the living room, for there was no ceiling obscuring the attic. "We don't conform to troop behavior, so they're afraid of us. Fear breeds hate. Hate of the Other tightens their pack identity."
"I think they're all sheep -- especially the Preaching Christians," said the Fire Demon. "I mean, really! They even call their chief deity the Good Shepherd."
"So, is something wrong with them that they wish to be led?" asked Brother yiB, "or with us, for resisting leaders?"
All the assembled group swiftly asserted their own superiority for resisting the blind faith and herd-like behavior of the Locals. The conversation turned to other matters, as they partook of wine and strange drugs (and were drunk thereof). Eventually everyone climbed back down the bookcase that lead to the attic, made their good-byes, and left the Bivouac for another day.
It is not known who took up crayon and wrote next to the door, "Jesus said, 'I am the Good Shepherd.'"
Several days later the Fire Demon and the woman called Spice were comfortably ensconced in the living room of the Bivouac, each reading curious tomes. The woman called Spice read of the physics of chemicals. The Fire Demon ignored his scrolls of discrete mathematics, and instead read a book of poetry by an even more famous beast than himself.
He came to a line that made him laugh out loud.
The woman called Spice looked up from her studies. "What is it that amuses you so, Demon?" she asked. She knew the Fire Demon shared her sense of humor, and wanted in on the joke.
"Yap my Yahoos!" he burbled.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Listen to this," said the Fire Demon. He stood up to recite, holding the book in one hand, and reaching outward dramatically with the other.
"'"Teach us, oh Master," yap my Yahoos.'
"Yap my Yahoos!" He began to dance happily around the room. "That's great! He's insulting them, and they're still begging to be led! Sheep all round!"
"Ah," said the woman called Spice. She returned to her book, thinking the phrase was cute, but not qute worth cackles and capers.
The Fire Demon thought otherwise, and with a step and a turn and a small cackling noise, he took up a crayon. He wrote the line next to the door, underneath the light switch, and sat back and admired his work, thinking the juxtaposition most satisfactory.
On another night there came a small gathering, a meeting of the minds for general entertainment in the Bivouac. The names of those attending will not be told, lest it reflect badly upon them. Perhaps you may excuse them, for there was wine and strange drugs (and they were drunk thereof).
There was merriment in the attic, and enjoyment of music. In those days before compact discs, it was frequently necessary to decend down the bookcase to turn over the album on the stereo. Eventually, this became a chore. Eventually, this became a debate over more efficient and interesting ways to get up and down to the attic.
Elevators were ruled out due to space considerations and technical requirements. Ropes were suggested, but rejected for being no easier than the bookshelf. The Velcro (tm) wall might have been fun, but would require too much specialized hardware Finally someone suggested the Monkey Bars.
The Monkey Bars stood in the yard next to the mansion that the Girl and the Boy shared with Death, which stood back to back with the Bivouac. The bars were a serious, industrial set of gray metal ladders and towers. In the state of mind in which the gathered company was to be found, it seemed like a fine idea to have the Monkey Bars set up in the Bivouac. It was agreed that it would be much more fun to swing through the living room, and one would be able to reach the attic from most of the house.
"Okay," said the Fire Demon. "I have a lot of black clothes you can change into, and the Wild One won't mind if we borrow his socket wrenches. We can go on a Secret Mission to liberate the Monkey Bars. We can bring them through the back yard and put them up here in the Bivouac!"
"Hear, hear!" they all cried. All in agreement, all the friends swiftly descended the bookshelf. The Fire Demon issued them all dark clothing to wear, and outfitted each with wrenches and a bag to hold the bolts. When all were ready, the Fire Demon stood them all in a line.
"Are we ready?"
"Yes," they all replied, with varying amounts of laughter.
"What is the greatest joy?"
"The joy! of! doing!" the gathered friends answered in unison.*
The Fire Demon smiled, as if pleased with the troops. "Then begin the Mission! Go on ahead. I want to lock the door."
The darkened friends left the porch and began to sneak through the back yard (supressing giggles all the way). Before joining them, the Fire Demon took up a crayon to write something on the wall. He turned off the lights, chuckling a darker chuckle to himself.
Thereafter, the space below the light switch read:
* If you do not understand this, rent the movie "Buckaroo Banzai". Take wine and strange drugs, and become drunk thereof. Watch the movie several times.
Back to the Chapterhouse