Sacred Cow
Thoth sat in a booth in the Sacred Cow, widely acknowledged to be the best burger joint on
Of course, he wasn't a mortal, as only the gods were allowed on
It was difficult to eat a burger when you had the beak (and head) of an ibis, but Thoth managed. Somehow in the cosmic scheme of things, most of his pantheon had ended up with the heads of animals. Sometimes Thoth thought the entire thing was a huge joke by the Creator.
Across the table, Chanticleer finished his burger. The storm god from some obscure corner of the multiverse had inexplicably become one of Thoth's friends. The Thunderer wiped his bearded chin with a napkin and motioned to the waitress, who nodded and took his order. "How does Brahma do it?" Chanticleer wondered.
"It's the secret sauce," Thoth said wisely.
"Wonder what's in it?" Chanticleer gave Thoth a meaningful look.
"Hey, don't ask me. I don't know."
"I thought you were the Lord of Knowledge," Chanticleer rumbled.
"Hey, I gave up that schtick a long time ago," Thoth said. "Besides, I think Brahma just dreamed up the recipe anyway."
The waitress arrived with Chanticleer's second burger, steaming from Brahma's grill. The flame-broiled marvel was a burger the likes of which mortals could never know. It was one of the universe's greatest ironies that Brahma and the other Hindu gods had forbidden their followers from eating cattle. Rumors flew around the Divine Realms that the reason was they thought only the gods should eat anything as good as a well-made hamburger. Of course, there were other theories, but those were highly unlikely. Just because a cow kept providing milk and fertilizer its entire life was no reason not to kill it and eat its delicious beef-flavored flesh, in Thoth's opinion. And not only in his opinion but the opinion of many other gods as well, the Sacred Cow made the best burger in all of the Divine Realms.
As the Thunderer raised the marvelous Swarga Special ("a heavenly delight", the menu said) to his lips, there was a commotion from the kitchen. A comical figure wearing green, purple, and gold - Mardi Gras colors - burst through the kitchen door. He wore a jester's cap, and his face was painted with white make-up. Bells on his cap jingled as the clown cut a caper in the middle of the restaurant.
"That guy looks familiar," Thoth said.
Brahma burst from the kitchen after the clown, all four of his faces contorted with rage. "Bring that back!" The Hindu creation deity waved a spatula at the clown menacingly with one of his four arms; in another, he held a spoon with which he was about to whack the intruder.
Thoth could now see the piece of paper in the clown's hand. The clown cut another caper, mocking him. "Betcha can't catch me!" With that, the clown vanished in a flash, leaving behind a sulfurous stink.
“This has gotta be serious if it got Brahma out of the kitchen,” Thoth remarked to Chanticleer. “He never leaves there.”
"He stole the recipe for the secret sauce!" Brahma yelled with all four heads, losing his usual composure.
Thoth snapped his fingers. "Bonzo?"
Chanticleer looked confused. "What?"
"That was Bonzo the Burger Klown."
If anything, the Thunderer looked even more confused. "Bonzo the what?"
"Bonzo the Burger Klown, spelled with a 'k'," Thoth explained. "Corporate spokesman for a burger chain on one of the mortal planes."
"How do you know that?"
"Hey, I'm the Lord of Knowledge."
Chanticleer gave him a dirty look.
"Okay," Thoth sighed. "I spent some time working at Bonzo Burger to make ends meet. You happy?" He looked ashamed. Flipping hamburgers for mere mortals was an indignity no deity should ever have to stoop to. But then, Thoth hadn't had many worshippers since the pharaohs fell, and you had to make a living somehow.
Then Thoth got a horrified look on his face, which made his bird head look like a demented parakeet. “Wait a minute. What if that clown takes the recipe to one of the mortal planes?”
“What do you - oh. Right.” The implications were obvious. Only the gods were allowed anything as good as the Sacred Cow's burgers. If mortals were given the stolen secrets of the sauce, there was no telling the direction their culinary development might go. Mortals weren't supposed to have access to things like that. The last time it happened, some idiot took fire down to the mortals, and that nearly ruined everything. “I guess we had better go get it back,” Chanticleer said.
“Now just hold yer horses,” Thoth protested. “Why us? Can't one of the gods of justice or something do that?”
“Well,” Chanticleer rumbled, “I am known as being a fair and just god. And you used to work for this 'Burger Klown', so you have the best idea where he may be going. We are natural for the job.”
“Oh, no,” Thoth said. “Don't look at me. I just said he was gonna take that recipe down to the mortal plane. I never said anything about going after him.”
“Going after him?” Brahma broke in with one of his heads. The other three were still muttering and cursing the Burger Klown. “I would thank you very much if you would.”
“Hey, now just hold on one burger-eating minute here,” Thoth protested again.
“Yes, we will,” Chanticleer spoke up. “We would be glad to get your recipe back for you. Come along, Thoth.”
Still sputtering, the former Lord of Knowledge allowed himself to be dragged off to go search the mortal plane for the stolen secret of the sauce. With a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder, Thoth and Chanticleer arrived on the mortal plane, in the middle of a bustling city. The traffic whizzed by with a stench of gasoline and unwashed bodies. “Y'know, every time I come to this Earth, I like it less and less,” Thoth complained. “Back in my day, a few thousand years ago, this place was clean and-”
Chanticleer silenced him with a wave of his hand. He was looking across the street, where a Bonzo Burger franchise stood. The sign boldly proclaimed, “Come dine with Der Klown!”
“This was your former place of employment?”
“Well, yeah.”
“What I would like to know is how this 'Bonzo the Burger Klown' got to
“Eh, Bonzo's a demon,” Thoth answered. “Most corporate mascots are these days. It's the best line of work for corrupting mortals' souls. He hitches a ride with some evil demigod up there, and he's in.”
Chanticleer nodded. That was all true. Evil gods were notorious for using their guest passes for
“I'd say that's right. Something like that'd make the mortals think they were gods. They ain't supposed ta have it so good.”
The Thunderer nodded. “Where do you think this Klown would have his lair?”
“Probably Bonzo Burger's corporate headquarters,” Thoth answered. “That's the likeliest den of evil I can think of.”
“Very well,” Chanticleer rumbled. “Let us go there.”
After hailing a cab, the pair arrived in front of the impressive-looking glass skyscraper that held the burger chain's command center for world conquest (Why did you think the company was putting a franchise in every town?). They had used some simple magic to make themselves appear to be ordinary mortals. Such tricks for traveling incognito had worked well in the old days; Zeus had several affairs with mortal women that way. Now, it allowed them to move unnoticed through a city with several million mortals.
“Well,” Thoth said, looking up at the skyscraper's smoked glass façade. “What now, we just walk in and ask to speak to Der Klown?”
Chanticleer nodded. “If that doesn't work, we are gods.”
The Egyptian shook his head. “They don't believe in us much here,” he said. “I don't think they'll be receptive to getting converted.”
The Thunderer ignored him and pushed aside the revolving door into the corporate nerve center's lobby. The first thing that struck them was an impressive statue of a clown atop a fountain, holding the Bonzo Burger “Double B” logo above its head. “Can I help you?” a woman at the reception desk asked.
“Yeah,” Thoth said. “We're here to see a Mister Klown.”
“You mean Bonzo?”
“Yeah, that's the one. Is he in? 'Cause I really need ta have a word with him.”
“It is a matter of importance,” Chanticleer added.
“He's in a meeting,” the receptionist said flatly, “and he can't be disturbed.”
“As I said, this is important, my child,” Chanticleer told her gently. “It is imperative that we speak to him.”
“I'm sorry, but I can't let you in.”
“See here, miss,” Chanticleer rumbled, his voice rising.
“I can't-“
The crack of a lightning bolt cut off her protest, smashing the reception desk to flinders. The receptionist sat, dumbstruck, her hair standing on end from the fringe static of the strike.
“You were saying?”
“G- Go right in. Twenty-second floor.” The receptionist's voice was meek and shaky, which would of course be normal for a mortal who has come within a foot of being crispy-fried.
“Thank you, miss,” Chanticleer said, walking to the elevator. “I presume you know how to operate this infernal device?”
Thoth rolled his eyes and pressed the button to go up. When the elevator came, the two deities stepped inside and waited to get to the twenty-second floor. "So what're we gonna say when we get there, 'Excuse us, but Brahma sent us to get his secret sauce back.'?"
"Something like that," Chanticleer said. "And if that fails, I am known for fighting demons. Not demonic clowns, mind, but close enough."
"I don't think he's gonna be intimidated by a near miss." The bell dinged, and the doors opened onto a new lobby. Thoth consulted the floor directory. "Lessee...Chief Propaganda Officer, Ministry of Information. That'd be
When they reached
"Klown!" Chanticleer roared. "I demand you surrender what you stole, immediately!" He looked about the office at the expensive marble floors and the massive wooden desk that said, "the guy that sits here is really important". The Burger Klown was nowhere to be found. "If you cooperate, we will see that..." His voice trailed off as he realized their quarry apparently wasn't in.
"Er, Chanty," Thoth said mildly, "he's not here."
The Thunderer gave him a dirty look.
"Sorry about that," a jeering, jolly and yet frightening voice said behind them. It was the kind of voice that reminded you of just why everyone hates clowns. Someone who smiles all the time has to be one of two things: stark raving mad, or up to something unmentionably evil. In this particular case, it was probably both.
"My meeting with the Ba'als ran a little long," Bonzo said as they turned to see him, looking just like when he'd left the Sacred Cow, still wearing his Mardi Gras-colored motley. His face was twisted into the kind of jeering, unnatural grimace that made small children scream and cry for their mothers.
"As I was saying," Chanticleer continued, "we have come to reclaim what you stole. Surrender it now, and we will allow you to go on your way."
"What makes you think I'm going to give it back to a couple of no-account gods like you?" The Burger Klown laughed. "Just how many worshippers do you two have, anyway?"
Chanticleer sputtered.
"Come on, now. I have millions of followers," the Klown said. "Brand loyalty's more important than faith anyway, especially among the 16-to-30 demographic."
"Look, Bonzo," Thoth said, "you know the mortals ain't supposed ta have anything like the burgers of the gods."
The Burger Klown rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. A little overindulgence never hurt anyone. Well, except those guys that died from coronaries from eating my burgers, but that was their own fault. Regardless, let me explain something to you."
"What's that?"
"Look out this window," Bonzo gestured. "Look down at these mortals. Do you know the one thing that defines their lives?"
"Self-fulfillment," Chanticleer rumbled. "Helping others."
The Burger Klown cackled wildly. "What mortal plane have you been on lately, Grandpa? Their lives are defined by two things: avoiding pain and seeking pleasure."
"What about the masochists?" Thoth asked.
"They really don't matter," Bonzo muttered. "But anyway, to the mortals, life is just a series of unpleasant stimuli as they hurtle toward oblivion. They seek pleasure to lighten that burden and help them forget that they are constantly in the process of dying."
Thoth shrugged.
"You've seen it," the Burger Klown said. "Their lives are defined by overindulgence. That very sin is the single defining parameter of human existence. All I do is offer them an assortment of tasty and inexpensive food, made from the finest Vietnamese orphans, to bring them pleasure."
"But what about the sauce?"
"The sauce is the ultimate overindulgence. It's reserved expressly for the gods. If the mortals eat it, they'll be more human than human. More importantly, they'll pay through the nose for the chance to taste another. That means more profit for me!"
The demonic clown (but really, what clown isn't a horrible monster from the netherworld?) grinned again. "But enough talking. It's time you two old gods took a little trip and let the Lords of Advertising take over. You get to go to Bonzoland!"
The Burger Klown removed his tasseled cap and held it open in front of him. An extradimensional vortex, a black hole stretching into the furthest depths of the multiverse, opened up from the hat. With a nauseating whoosh, Thoth and Chanticleer were sucked inside.
Even the gods quail before the greatest force of evil in the multiverse: marketing. The Dark Lords of Advertising are some of the few beings that even the Creator Himself regrets bringing into existence. These unspeakable beings exist at the fringes and dark places of the multiverse, waiting until the stars come right and it is their appointed time to consume everything. This time is known as "sweeps week". Until then, they are content with sending their nefarious servants to corrupt mortals and draw everything closer to the inevitable oblivion. Among other things, their servants are responsible for the continued popularity of American Karaoke and Who Wants to Marry a Reform School Dropout?
The Dark Lords of Advertising have also gifted some of their minions like Bonzo the Burger Klown with the ability to create their own nightmarish realms. These exist as pocket dimensions, rarely seen by outsiders (unless used in commercials, and even then such things are passed off as "sets" and "special effects"), bizarre micro-worlds where everything reflects the creator's twisted personality.
One such pocket dimension is Bonzoland. Originally given to Der Klown in the 1970s, it was used as the basis for a new advertising campaign for Bonzo Burger (as well as a feeding ground when the Burger Klown lured unsuspecting children there through portals cleverely hidden in restaurant playgrounds). When certain uppity mortals filed a lawsuit for infringing on their own playfully demonic creations designed to eat children's brain cells, Der Klown wisely decided to keep his private dimension to himself. Even his evil could not compare to that brought to bear by lawyers.
And it was here that the two deities found themselves. The sun shown nauseatingly brightly on fields of hamburger bushes and lakes of over-sweetened carbonated beverages. Puffy, colorful characters of unnatural and distorted shapes worked the fields of hamburger bushes, chained together and overseen by horned demons with whips.
"Where the stink are we?" Thoth wondered. "Some kinda pocket universe or something?"
"Yes," Chanticleer rumbled. "This is probably the Klown's doing."
One of the demons applied his whip liberally to the back of an autistic-looking purple blob harvesting meat by-products from the fields. "Who else would be fucked up enough to have hamburgers growing on vines?"
Chanticleer raised his lightning-forked staff above his head and spoke a word of recall, attempting to take them home. Nothing happened. He regarded his staff curiously. "I know I recharged it just before we left
Thoth shook his head. "Bonzo said something about the Lords of Advertising being in control. If that's the case, we're not getting out that way."
Granted, the Dark Lords were powerful, but more powerful than the gods? Such things had been known to happen, but they were rare. Even the deities feared bad publicity.
"Come on," Thoth said. "If I remember the way these pocket dimensions work, there should be a portal somewhere around here."
The two gods started up the path, past the demonic overseers and their colorful, deformed charges. "Y'know, I thought some of the Divine Realms were weird, but this takes the cake. This makes the Egyptian afterlife look downright normal."
Chanticleer grunted noncommittally. A little ways down the path, they came to a huddled cluster of figures. Several of the demonic overseers were circled around smaller beings, their weapons rising and falling.
As a genuine, licensed god of light, Chanticleer wasn't about to stand for demons abusing anyone, even the pathetic inhabitants of the Burger Klown's personal realm. "You! Stop that right now!"
He raised his staff and spoke a word of power. A circle of clouds formed around the demons. A quick, stinging flash of lightning from the ring lashed out, catching each of the demons in turn. The overseers howled, running through the circle of clouds and away.
As the demons fled, Thoth could see the group of cowering, misshapen beings they were abusing. The first, an odd creature with a body shaped like an oversized cold capsule with spindly limbs, spoke up. "Thank you, kind sirs!"
"Er...don't mention it," Chanticleer said uncertainly.
"What the stink are you?"
"I'm Bernie the Food Suppository," the malformed creature answered.
Thoth shuddered. "The what?"
Bernie shrugged his spindly arms. "Back in the '90s, when that 'health conscious' fad passed through, Bonzo Burger tried to come up with healthier stuff. I was to mascot for their new product." His face fell. "Unfortunately, the food suppository didn't catch on, and I was sent here to be...punished."
Thoth shuddered. "Look, just don't try to thank us too hard, okay?"
"And the rest of these beings?"
Bernie motioned to the other hideous things gathered around. "This is Blockage the Bonzo Mega Coronary Burger," he said. "He was the mascot for the ultimate new burger. Unfortunately, the FDA banned it before it hit the market - something about 4000 calories being too much for one food product. Mister Green the Broccoli Shake, Tilly the Marmite-Flavored Sundae, and all the rest. Each of us a bad decision by the marketing department. And stuck here as rejects for that Klown's minions to beat up."
Chanticleer shook his head. Obviously, the Burger Klown and his advertising minions were truly evil if they would create pitiful beings like these and then abandon them. Then again, just being a clown put Bonzo in the category of "obviously evil".
"You wouldn't happen to know a way out, would ya?" Thoth asked. After all, if anyone would have tried to excape this demented realm, it would be these pathetic, failed advertising icons.
"Only if we can come with you," Bernie the Food Suppository said. "Der Klown always catches us when we manage to get out by ourselves."
"Agreed," Chanticleer rumbled. "Lead the way."
The failed food mascots led the deities down the path, past sluggish volcanoes of milkshakes. A glowing circle of light stood before them, a portal to the outside world. "There," Bernie said, pointing.
Thoth gestured to Chanticleer. "You want ta go first?"
The Thunderer nodded, stepping into the portal. Thoth and the failed advertising mascots followed.
They emerged once again in the Burger Klown's office. Bonzo looked up from his desk. "What is this?" he yelled. Then he spotted the mascots. "Oh, you freaks again. I'll deal with you momentarily. That is, right after I take care of these-"
Der Klown's posturing was cut off as he was struck by a jolt of lightning from Chanticleer's staff. The blast knocked Bonzo off of his feet, throwing him across the office. His tassled hat fell off as he flew.
"Oh, no," Thoth said, grabbing the hat an instant before Bonzo's hand reached it. "You're not trying that again."
Then the failed food mascots grabbed Bonzo by his feet, dragging the fallen Klown into a frenzy of gloved fists and unexpectedly sharp teeth. Bonzo screamed horribly as his creations extracted their revenge.
"Ya live by advertising, ya die by advertising," Thoth remarked knowingly.
Chanticleer spotted a piece of parchment on the floor, apparently fallen from Der Klown's pocket. "I think this is what we came for." Without looking at it, he rolled up the parchment and put it in a pocket of his robes.
"Hey," Thoth asked as they prepared to return to
Chanticleer only shrugged. With a flash of lightning, they disappeared.
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