The Asbestos Society of Sinners: detailing the diversions of Dives and others on the playground of Pluto, with some broken threads of drop-stitch history, picked up by a newspaper man in Hades and woven into a Stygian nights' entertainmentFogg, Lawrence Daniel
General
The Asbestos Society of Sinners: detailing the diversions of Dives and others on the playground of Pluto, with some broken threads of drop-stitch history, picked up by a newspaper man in Hades and woven into a Stygian nights' entertainment
Fogg, Lawrence Daniel
Hell -- Fiction; Humorous stories
“After reading that, nothing would do for Mother Eve but that she must
cease shivering and become a sinner in order to have a hot time. Of
course being a woman, the snake could not resist her fascination, and
so she had no more reason to complain of the cold. Roe tried to open a
chestnut burr, pricked his fingers and got so mad that he drove the old
folks back to Eden. Mother Eve flirted with a Stygian plumber until she
got him to put hot air pipes from Jonathan Edwards’ crematory to the
Aiden roof garden. Weatherwise, the _mater_ is again comfortable.”
Adam and Eve were eating apples under the trees as we entered the
Garden. So glad was Eve to see a man who wasn’t a shade that she put a
pair of cherry lips to mine with a resounding smack.
“Forbidden fruit,” scowled Adam.
“There was a time,” I observed, “when I thought it better to welcome
the sting of a wasp rather than the kiss of a woman, but that was
before I had come in contact with a wasp and before I had been kissed
by a woman. Both have taught me that I knew neither wasps nor women and
that all things alliterative are not synonymous.”
Adam seemed anxious to change the subject from osculation to the origin
of things kissable, and to a man, of course, the only things kissable
are sweet little bits of laughing gurgling femininity.
“Doubtless you would be interested in my first impressions of my
helpmeet,” he said, “so I will give you the Genesis of Revelation. When
I was a boy—”
“He always gets childish after dinner,” whispered Eve in an aside
to me. Adam filled in the interruption by whittling on a toothpick.
“I’m glad he has a plentiful stock of lumber, for if you can keep him
whittling, you can get everything out of him except the truth. He
thinks he cuts a chunk out of history every time he flourishes his
jack-knife. The shavings he sells to the breakfast-food trust.”
“When I was a boy,” continued Adam, “I invariably spoke in the first
person, because I was the first person, but as Eve is my better half
I am now only a third, so in future I will not even use the editorial
‘we,’ but simply ‘the man’.”
“And the man said, ‘The woman’—” mocked Cain.
“You’re not in America, where the children bring up the parents,”
reproved Eve. “Besides, your information is but second-hand, for you
were ‘among those absent’.”
“Eve was bone of my bone,” continued Adam, “but not flesh of my flesh.
When I first set eyes on the woman she had not enough adipose tissue to
impair in an infinitesimal degree the rapid penetration of an X-ray; in
fact, from Cosmos to Cleopatra, woman has evaded the searching inquiry
of the X and is still an unknown quantity.”
“And the apple episode?” I questioned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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