With downcast eyes, Dr. Bert reached into his pocket.
"No," Gloria said.
"No," Bill said.
"No," Ruth said, and so on.
"We have no choice but to obey," Dr. Bert replied, and so they allowed themselves to be herded into the bus.
Yet, hadn't Bert been called obsessive and compulsive? Hadn't he been the kind of man always to check the burners on the stove at least three times before he went to bed? Hadn't he gathered duplicates of all their supplies? Yes, indeed, he had.
So he simply inserted the second ignition key, and the bus roared into life. Faster than a flutter of a hummingbird's wing, they were in a modern time, a world of wonderful smog and littered streets.
And so it came to pass that Dr. Bert and the eight other scientists were awarded joint Nobel Prizes and, despite their nearly being killed by restless natives, lived happily ever after.
Moral: A switch in time saves nine.
GAYS' PRIDE
Once upon a time there was a gay couple named Adam and Steve, and they lived in a glorious garden right in the middle of a vast jungle. The garden was located somewhere to the west of Eden among a forest of holly trees.
Actually, Adam and Steve were the first and only gay couple in the world, and life was perfect. Although there were no gay bars, the two men had plenty to keep them entertained. They made friends with all the other animals, the monkeys, the bears, the anteaters and the titmouses. Yet their favorites among the beasts were the lions.
The climate was warm and mild, so Adam and Steve, like all the animals in the Hollywood West of Eden had no need of clothing. On those rare nights when a chill entered the air, they simply cuddled with a lion or two, allowing the big cats' fur to keep them warm.
They loved the lions, perhaps because they were such noble beasts, possessed of dignity and elan. As a matter of fact, Adam and Steve came to think of these magnificent beasts as the epitome of pride, and gradually "the pride of the lions" shifted in meaning to become "a pride of lions," meaning a flock or a gaggle.
Now just as further to the east one of the Eden kids went elsewhere to seek a wife, Steve started one day to think that perhaps there was more to life than being with Adam. Why give in to monotony, routine, downright boredom when somewhere off in the jungle was excitement, glamour, life?
Thus it came to pass that one day when Adam was making a costume out of grass and coconut shells for a holiday he was planning to invent and which would be held on October 31 of each year, Steve decided to trot on out to the far side of the jungle where neither he nor Adam had ever ventured.
As he wandered along, he saw many wonderful sights, exotic flowers, strange animals, and—oh, joy and rapture—another young man. The most beautiful he'd ever seen, besides his lover Adam. In fact, the only one he'd ever seen besides his lover Adam.
His heart pounded, blood rushed to his head, he felt faint. The young man sat apparently engrossed in watching water trickle over rocks and splash into a sun-drenched pool.
Since cruising hadn't yet been invented, Steve wasn't sure how to approach the other young man. But he decided to take the simplest path: walk up and introduce himself.
"Hi, there," he said, "my name's Steve. What's yours?"
"Oh, hi, Steve; I'm Jerry. I didn't expect to see anyone else around these parts. Do you come here often?"
"My first time, how about you?"
"Well, yeah, I live just over the hill there. Not the best of neighborhoods, I guess. But you know, it's awfully expensive, I heard, over in Hollywood West of Eden."
"Anyway, Jerry, I'm real pleased to meet you." He held out his hand. They shook, Steve reluctant to let go. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Buy? What does that mean? And anyhow there's a cool mountain pool just below these rocks." He pointed.
More than anything in the world at that moment, Steve wanted ... he didn't quite know what. To be with the other man, but what did that mean? To be with him as he was at night with Adam? Yes, he admitted, that was it. And then, despite never having tasted of the fruit of knowledge, he felt a twinge of something unpleasant. Like he was doing something ... wrong? But what did "wrong" mean? And why did it make him feel so ... guilty? What the hell was that?
Instead of pursuing things further, he turned and ran straight back to Hollywood West.
As he neared the garden, he saw Adam rushing toward him. "Oh, Stevie, honey," he said. "I was so worried; I didn't know where you'd gone. And then to make things worse the whole pride of lions started to leave as well. Then suddenly they turned back, chomping grass and berries as if nothing had happened."
That night as Steve lay in Adam's arms spent from their lovemaking, his thoughts wandered once more to the young man he'd met. He started to tell Adam about it, then quickly decided that wasn't the thing to do, though he didn't know why.
The next day as Adam was putting the finishing touches on his costume, Steve once more wandered off, headed for the hills where he'd first seen Jerry.
Meanwhile Adam noticed that shortly after Steve left, the entire pride of lions left too. He threw down his thorn and thread and the half-sewn costume and raced after Steve.
Well, shock of shocks, he soon came upon his lover and—another man? How bizarre. He was certain he and Steve were the only two in existence, except those heteros over in Eden. Steve and the other man stood with their arms around each other.
"Ahem," Adam said, and both men turned startled. "Well, Steve," Adam continued, "aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"
Steve's face turned bright red. "Oh, sure. Adam, this is Jerry. He lives just over the rise. Jerry, this is my lover, Adam."
"Lover? What's a lover?" Jerry asked.
"Well," Adam said, hands on hips, "that's one question I'm sure I'm not going to answer." And he realized he'd arrived just in the nick of time to prevent Jerry from finding out the answer on his own. Just in the nick of time to prevent his lover falling into ways of the flesh. And he wondered: Without eating the fruit that damned snake keeps pushing, is it possible to sin, to fall from grace? Is man incapable of purity? Is original sin inherent in his being, and if so, must he of necessity succumb to it? They were very deep thoughts for a man unaccustomed to thinking.
He didn't want to take any chances. Instead, he rushed forward, grabbed Steve's hand and pulled him along the path to Hollywood West.
Ever after that Adam had to be on his guard. Of course, he couldn't keep an eye on Steve every second of every day or night. But he began to realize he didn't have to. Any time Steve felt strange urgings, urgings which would lead to his downfall, all the lions as if of one mind, stopped whatever they were doing—eating, sleeping, roaring—and en masse left Hollywood West. So after the first time or two, Adam never worried. He knew he could count on the lions. He could follow after Steve and see to it that he remained pure, that he did not give in to his baser nature.
Steve for his own part was grateful, for deep inside he would not have wanted to hurt poor Adam for they truly were meant for each other.
In the years that followed the two men continued their blissful ways. As for Jerry, he met this real cute gorilla who told him to hang on for a few centuries and he'd change into a man, and then they too could live happily ever after.
And the moral of this tale? It's something Adam had realized years before.
Moral: The pride always goeth before a fall.
THAT OLD DEMON CAKE
Once upon a time there was a man named Victor who was editor of the best gay newspaper in town. He was the most conscientious editor to be found in the entire continental United States of America, except that he had one problem. That was a sweet tooth.
Now he wasn't gluttonous; he didn't gorge himself on other foods, but he did love his sweets, especially cake, any kind of cake. Carrot cake, angel and devil's food cake, rum cake, fruit cake, spice cake, lemon chiffon cake—just so it was sweet.
Often in the midst of editing a story or putting the paper
to bed, Victor would have an uncontrollable urge to have a piece of cake. More often than not, he found himself unable to resist such urges. So right in the middle of a sentence or while interviewing Mr. Gay Leather or doing the layout, he'd stop and rush to the nearest bakery or supermarket, grab the closest cake and gorge, gorge, gorge.
Now Paul, the publisher, considered himself lucky to have such a good editor as Victor, who could have commanded any salary anywhere. Yet, he was troubled by the frequency with which Victor left his duties to buy a cake and immediately devour it.
In fact, people were complaining. Pages of the paper were being delivered smeared with chocolate or walnut icing. Young men were opening to the gossip section only to have a pageful of crumbs deposited on their laps. And all too often, Victor was missing deadlines.
One day as the urge struck, Victor jumped from his desk to come face to face with Paul.
"I'm sorry, Vic," Paul said, "but I've had it. I'm giving you an ultimatum. Either you do something about your addiction or I have no choice but to can you."
Victor knew Paul wasn't kidding. But what could he do? He loved editing; he loved cake. Besides, he needed the money ... and yeah, the wonderful feeling of a bellyful of cake.
Yet, he realized, like Paul, he had no choice. He sat back down at his desk, opened the phone book, found the number he wanted and made his call.
"Cake eaters anonymous," a voice answered.
"Hi, my name is Vic," Victor said, "and I'm a cake eater."
Many years have gone by since that moment, many years in which Victor has not strayed from the narrow path. Lest he forget and give in, he attends weekly meetings, drinks tons of coffee and silently rises to tell the others: "Hi, my name is Vic, and I'm a cake eater. I have a story to tell. I was the editor of the best gay newspaper in town, and then one day, my publisher ..."
Yes, Victor has managed to put aside his addiction, realizing the horror that could have befallen him. Victor continued in his job, winning three Pulitzers for his work on bringing the perils of cake addiction to the reading public. Yes, Victor is a lucky man, because early on he realized:
Moral: You can't have your cake and edit too.
Perverted Proverbs Page 9