by Jack Geurts
“Well, well, well,” he says. “I see the jig is up.”
Fat Abe frowns, wondering why he’s so calm. Sarah wondering the same thing.
Abe stands, pacing the room like a Bond villain. “You see, I knew my wife would betray me.”
Sarah’s like, “I didn’t...”
“Please, Sarah. It’s alright,” He turns back to Fat Abe. “She’s weak-willed and disloyal. I knew she would buy me only so much time.”
He pauses for dramatic effect.
“You see...while you two were engaged in coitus, I was going around slitting throats. Feel free to search the entire palace – you won’t find a single living soul.”
Fat Abe goes pale. “You couldn’t have...”
“Oh, I did, Fat Abe. I did. I only left your concubines alive.”
Sarah frowns. “Wait, why’d you leave the concubines alive?”
Abe looks confused. “Why would I kill them?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“They’ve done nothing wrong.”
“No one else had done anything wrong either.” Her eyes narrow. “Are you keeping them alive so you can have sex with them?”
“No,” Abe says, with a forced laugh. “I just thought they might come in handy, as servants or...convincing the army to follow me. Stuff like that.”
Sarah eyes him suspiciously, not trusting his motives for a second.
Abe turns back to Fat Abe, preparing for his super-cool, action-hero moment. He says, “And now it’s time for you to join the rest of your retinue...”
“Not your whores,” Sarah chimes in, not quite under her breath.
Abe glares, his moment ruined. In an almost bored tone, he says, “Go on, Hagar. Get it over with.”
Suddenly, Hagar appears behind Fat Abe and puts a knife to his throat.
“Die, you pig.”
She slashes his neck open.
Blood spurts everywhere and he falls to the ground, writhing and gurgling for a moment before going still.
It takes all three of them to drag Fat Abe outside and pile him there with the rest of the bodies.
Abe then opens the gate to the courtyard so the army can get in, and they’re like, “Yo, man, what the fuck?”
Abe’s like, “Sorry, boys, you’re with me now. Your king’s dead, his servants are dead. I’ve been chosen by God himself to be the father of a great nation. So, you can either join me or join the pile.”
The soldiers all look at each other, and seem to come to a “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” kind of consensus.
So now Abe’s the new king of the Philistines. He’s got a city, an army, one kid who can already shoot a bow and arrow, and another on the way. Things are looking pretty good for old Abe right about now.
But soon, he starts falling back into old ways.
He starts fucking the concubines.
He drinks too much.
He kills people for, like, nothing.
Like one guy came up to him on the street, asked him for some food. Abe didn’t just kill him – he killed his whole fucking family.
And their friends.
By hand.
Also, Abe began eating.
Like, a lot.
Like, enough that eventually, he became almost identical to the old king. People even started calling him the new Fat Abe.
But one day, as he prepared for his ‘morning workout’, Fat Abe discovered that all his concubines’ vaginas had closed up.
At first, he was shocked.
Then, he remembered the boils breaking out all over Pharaoh and his guards back in Egypt, and he knew right away who was responsible.
God.
That motherfucker.
He called out to God and the big guy came down, being like, “Dude, I was watching Mindhunter. What do you want?”
Fat Abe’s like, “All my bitches are closed up. What’s the deal?”
“What did you expect, man? You passed your wife off as your sister again, even after what happened the first time in Egypt. Even when she’s pregnant with a goddamn miracle child.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? You destroyed my city, you told me you were gonna get Lot to be the new patriarch – what the fuck was I supposed to do? Come here and offer to suck Fat Abe’s fat dick for room and board?”
“You’re Fat Abe,” God says. “Look at yourself. Jesus, you’re an embarrassment.”
Fat Abe touches his massive gut, a little sensitive. “I did what I had to do, alright. I’m king again. End of story.”
“Not end of story. I never said you were gonna be a king. I said you were gonna be the father of a great nation.”
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna be the father of a great nation. Maybe I just wanna be a king. Maybe I just wanna eat and drink and fuck beautiful women who aren’t my wife. Maybe I just want to kill whoever I want the moment I get the urge to. At least being a king I can enjoy.”
“It doesn’t matter if you enjoy it,” God says. “We’re laying the foundations for a future paradise. Sometimes you just gotta suck it up and take one for the team – like you’ve made Sarah do on multiple occasions.”
Abe considers it.
“Hey, uh...I been meaning to ask you. When Fat Abe was ploughing my wife and something grabbed his dick...”
“That was me.”
“That was you?”
“Well, it was the kid. But I made him do it.”
Fat Abe smiles. “That was a good one.”
God smiles back. “Thanks.”
*
A few days later, Fat Abe’s lying on the lounge chair thing with his concubines feeding him grapes, and a man gets brought in to see him. The king’s just finished unhinging his jaw and swallowing an entire bunch of grapes without chewing, when he looks over and sees Lot standing there.
“Lot!” he says, jowls shaking, spitting grape juice all over him. “What are you doing here?”
I should mention that Lot looks like shit. Like Jesse Pinkman at the end of Breaking Bad.
Actually, he looks worse than that.
Yes, worse than Jesse Pinkman at the end of Breaking Bad.
He’s got a long, shaggy beard and his robes are all dirty and torn.
Lot says, “I’m here to beg you to take me back.”
“Take you back?” says Fat Abe, and he laughs. His servants and guards laugh with him, afraid he’ll murder them if they don’t.
When everything dies down, Fat Abe says, “Now, why would I take you back?”
“Because I’ve got nothing left,” Lot says. “My daughters have found husbands, my wife’s dead. I’ve got nothing. Please...” He gets down on his knees, clasping his hands together, looking pathetic as fuck. It’s embarrassing. “Please take me back.”
Fat Abe lifts his arms, saying, “Up! Up!”
His servants rush to his side and haul the king to his feet. He almost falls over, but they keep him steady.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Slowly, the guards step back, but stay close enough that they can rush in if he falls again.
Fat Abe looks Lot up and down, licking his lips. He takes a few steps toward him.
“God told me he was gonna get you to be the next patriarch.”
Lot nods. “He asked me. I said no.”
Fat Abe furrows his brow. “You said no?”
“I told him I didn’t want to betray you.”
Fat Abe stares at the guy, not sure if he can trust him.
“Then why’d he fly you out of Sodom on those giant eagles?”
“That’s when he asked me,” Lot says. “He flew me out so he could ask me.”
“And you told him no?”
“I told him no, I couldn’t do that to you.”
“And what’d he say?”
“He said fine – he’d try to patch things up with you, then.”
Fat Abe nods, apparently satisfied. “Alright,” he says. “You’re back in.”
He puts Lot u
p in the penthouse and that night, they’re drinking together like old times. Fat Abe does a few too many tequila shots and wakes up the next morning beside a pile of all his servants with their throats cut.
“Jesus...” he says, slithering backwards from the pile.
Fat Abe looks over and sees Lot getting up from his lounge chair – clean-shaven, fresh robes. To paraphrase Kathy Bates in Titanic, dude shines up like a new penny.
“I know you tricked my wife into turning back,” Lot says. “You think I didn’t see you running past, flipping me the bird?”
With great difficulty, Fat Abe gets to his feet.
Lot goes on, “Just because she left me doesn’t mean I wanted her dead. Well, I did, but I wanted to do it. With my own two hands. Since you robbed me of my revenge – and since you tried to rape me, let’s not forget about that – this is what you get.”
He points to the gate, where Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael are standing with their bags packed, ready to go.
“Either get the fuck out,” Lot says. “Or get on the pile.”
Fat Abe’s silent for a long moment, just staring at the pile. Finally, he says, “Dude...You killed the concubines. You never kill the concubines.”
*
A few months of wandering through the desert later, Fat Abe is now Skinny Abe.
Not normal Abe. Skinny Abe.
Going from that decadent palace diet to what can only be described as the ‘Slim Pickings’ diet of the desert has fucked with his body something fierce.
He went through his fat and sugar withdrawals like Leo in The Basketball Diaries. Now, he’s shedding pounds by the day, to the point where he currently looks like Christian Bale in The Machinist. It’s actually pretty terrifying to look at.
And just in case you’re a little overweight and are actually considering the “Slim Pickings” diet, please stop reading.
Watch The Machinist.
Vomit in terror.
Come back.
Keep reading.
Don’t do the ‘Slim Pickings’ diet.
Where were we?
Oh, yeah...
So travelling alongside Skinny Abe is his now very-pregnant wife, his servant/mistress and his bastard son.
Back before God came into Abe’s life and totally fucked it up, he didn’t mind travelling. That might have been because he had servants to set up the tents. It might have been because he had a shit-load of livestock for milk and meat and clothes. It might have been because he didn’t know any better, and now that he does, he’s struggling to re-adjust.
Time passes.
Sarah has a son.
They circumcise him, call him Isaac – things are good.
But not for long.
Pretty soon, Isaac and Ishmael are out playing together, having a great time. And while kids having fun is generally a good thing, you can always count on the politics of adults to ruin it.
See, Sarah and Hagar didn’t exactly get on swimmingly before. And, now that they’ve been thrown back together, shit’s starting to fall apart.
It’s not really even Hagar – more Sarah that has the problem. She sees her son playing with Ishmael and thinks, “I gotta do something about this.”
So she goes to Skinny Abe and she’s like, “Dude, we gotta do something about this.”
He’s like, “What do you mean? They’re just playing. That’s what brothers do.”
“I don’t like it,” she says. “Ishmael’s the oldest, and as long as he’s around, there’s always the chance that he’ll inherit everything after you die.”
“What do you want me to do, kill him?”
“You don’t have to kill him, just...ditch him. Ditch them both.”
“Both?” says Skinny Abe.
“Well, it’d be cruel to leave the boy out here on his own.”
“But leaving the boy and his mother to die – that’s...fine?”
“At least they wouldn’t die alone.”
“So you do want them dead – you just don’t wanna get any blood on your hands?”
“Hey, if there’s another reason you wanna keep her around, just let me know.”
She lets it hang, testing him.
He knows he’s been backed into a corner. “Fine.”
So the very next day, he gives Hagar and Ishmael some supplies and tells them to kindly fuck off.
Hagar says, “Where are we supposed to go?”
Sarah’s like, “Anywhere but here.”
Ishmael looks up at Skinny Abe, being like, “Don’t you love me, daddy?”
And Skinny Abe’s like, “Of course I love you, kid. But, you know what they say – happy wife, happy life.”
Strangely enough, this doesn’t seem to console the boy.
Ishmael gives his little brother a hug goodbye, but Isaac doesn’t want to let go. Skinny Abe’s like, “Alright, boys, that’s enough.”
He touches Isaac on the shoulder, but the kid still won’t let go.
“Come on, Isaac,” Skinny Abe says, pulling his shirt now.
But the kid still clings to his brother.
“Come on, buddy. Come on...” Pulling a little harder now, a little harder...
Still the kid doesn’t budge.
“For Christ’s sakes, Isaac, come the fuck on!”
He ends up having to yank Isaac back with all his might, almost pulling his own shoulder out in the process.
Isaac goes flying back into the sand and Sarah picks him up, dusts him off.
By the time Skinny Abe looks back, Hagar and Ishmael are walking off into the desert.
Skinny Abe turns to Sarah, like, “Happy now?” and leads the crying Isaac back to their tent.
Up above, God’s like, “That’s cold, man.”
So when Hagar and Ishmael run out of water, he comes down and opens up a well for them. She thanks him, and God says don’t worry about it – those guys are assholes.
She asks why God chose Skinny Abe to be the father of a great nation, then.
God says it’s complicated – Skinny Abe wasn’t an asshole to start with, but the promise of power and glory has corrupted his mind. Currently, he’s trying to find a back door out of the covenant he made with the guy.
Hagar asks why he can’t just kill him, but God says it’s not that simple – Skinny Abe gave him cigarettes. And there’s nothing more binding than a covenant sealed with cigarettes. Not even a pinky swear.
Hagar asks what he plans to do, then.
God says he’s working on it. Part of the plan involves Lot. Part of the plan involves her – or, more importantly, her son.
Hagar says she’s all ears.
GENESIS 22-23
Kill the Kid!
Skinny Abe’s gained a little weight since we last saw him, and he’s looking more and more like his old self.
Not Fat Abe – he’s not going that far. Just normal Abe.
He’s moving around with his family, living off the land. His son’s becoming a man. His wife’s starting to forgive him for all the evil shit he’s done.
She’s been really happy lately, ever since they picked up this servant, Barnabas (Barney for short). He’s a big, handsome dude. Not much between his ears, but Sarah’s taken a real liking to him all the same. They’re always talking and laughing together, touching each other’s arms.
Yep, things are looking pretty good for old Abe right about now.
Then, one day, God comes down and he’s like, “Abe, I got a job for you.”
Abe’s just sipping from a wineskin, and he’s like, “Yeah, man, no problem. What do you need?”
God’s like, “I need you to kill Isaac for me.”
Abe spits a mouthful of wine all over the big guy and the big guy’s not impressed.
“You want me to what?”
“I want you to take your son up the mountain, cut his throat and burn his body. What, are you deaf?”
“Dude...I already had to banish one son. How am I supposed to be the father of a great nation if you m
ake me kill this one, too?”
“Listen, it’s real simple, Abe – either do what I tell you or the covenant’s off.”
Then he’s gone. Back up to heaven.
He makes some popcorn and sits there, like, “Alright, let’s see what happens now...”
Down below, Abe’s like, “Shit...”
He looks over at his son, who’s very clearly masturbating in his tent, and lets out a sigh. Not because his son is masturbating without bothering to close the tent flaps, but because he’s gotta kill the kid.
“Isaac,” he says.
“Just a minute...”
Abe waits.
...and waits.
...and waits. He checks the tiny stone sundial he tied to his wrist with a leather strap.
Finally, Isaac finishes up.
He comes out, doing his belt, and he’s like, “What?” Like that kid in Ferris Bueller who waits for the teacher to call his name twice before he’s like, “Here!”, but really aggressive, like he said it before and the teacher just didn’t hear him.
As you can probably tell, Isaac’s not a sweet, innocent kid anymore. He’s got acne all over his face, a peach fuzz mustache and a really bad attitude. Like any teenager, he just wants to get away from his parents, but that’s kind of hard when you live in the middle of a fucking desert.
It’s just him, his mom, his dad, and Barney.
Abe’s like, “We gotta go make a sacrifice, man. I need you to carry the wood.”
Isaac lets out a really obvious sigh to let Abe know he can’t be fucked, then says, “Fine...”, and trudges off to get the wood.
Abe saddles up his donkey, and they’re about to leave when Sarah pokes her head out of the tent, like, “Where are you guys going?”
Abe’s like, “Just going to make a sacrifice, hon.”
“Where’s the lamb?”
“The lamb?”
Isaac looks at his dad. “Yeah, where is the lamb?”
Abe panics. “Uh... God’s gonna provide the lamb. He told me that...just before.”
“Oh.” Sarah disappears back into her tent, evidently satisfied.
Pretty soon, they’re on the road.
Isaac, Abe and Barney. The three amigos. Heading up the side of a hill with a donkey, some wood and a sacrificial knife. None of them speak, all lost in their own thoughts.
Abe’s thinking, “Fuck...if I kill the kid, I won’t be the father of a great nation – I’ll just be the father of a dead kid. If I don’t kill the kid, God’s gonna back out of the covenant and I’ll just be the father of a douchebag teenager. Probably end up killing him anyway...”