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We stumbled upon three groups of mushrooms, all of the same orange-brown hue. The first group was composed of a solitary mushroom, cap upturned and frayed. The second group was comprised of a pair of fellows, standing as close to each other as their round, hemispherical caps would allow. The third group was formed of a trio of flat capped mushrooms, the tallest shading the other two. We got to talking about humus, discussing the pros and cons. Everyone there was pro-humus. For a moment I toyed with the idea of taking the con-position, just to play the devil's advocate, but Poison Pie told me that the devil didn't need any additional advocacy, and I decided he was right. One topic led to another and we all started talking about the devil, Mephistopheles. Curiously, the souls of the mushroom people are not pursued by Mephistopheles. They don't know whether their souls are inferior to the souls of people, or whether the devil just has poor taste. I had an opinion on the matter but I was afraid to voice it. Poison Pie said, "Mephistopheles has a sweet tooth. The souls of people are dripping with clover honey. The souls of the mushroom people, however, are bitter with a strong resemblance to rhubarb.""I like rhubarb pie," I said, without thinking. At my proclamation, all the mushroom people ran away. Poison Pie raised himself to his full eight and a half foot height and towered over me. I fully expected him to sock me in the belly. Instead, he nodded his head appreciatively and said, "We may make a mushroom man out of you yet."That just goes to show how I understand nothing. |
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