The Temple by Brian Smith Page A

placed them on his upturned palms and held
them near his chest. He turned to the assembly and said
“Discalceatus est!” [Latin: He is unshod, i.e. his shoes are taken
off]
    While the brethren were clapping
their hands Jeremiah’s smile froze on his face as a pungent smell
wafted up from the shoes. “Don’t you wash your feet,” he asked
through clenched teeth.”
    “I’ve only got one pair of
socks,” Sycko replied.
    Jeremiah almost choked but had
to continue with the ceremony. He threw the shoes one at a time to
the other end of the temple and the assembly said in unison “Calcei
iacti sunt!” [The shoes have been thrown]
    These holy words were the signal
for Sycko to walk through the hall until he found his shoes. He
walked slowly and with dignity but the nauseating stench from his
feet made the eyes of more than just one brother or sister water.
To the general relief he put his shoes on again. This was followed
by the song:
     
    Brother, brother come to us,
    The moon doth shine on thee,
    Under our ancient holy tree.
    Hark the Lord who speaks to
us.
     
    To conclude the holy ceremony
they all got out Dryvellers Fags and lit up. With the smoke from
scores of fags rising up in the air the ceremony was officially
ended and the overjoyed brethren made their way to the dining hall
for breakfast.
    They all stood around the table
behind their chairs. On his special day Sycko had the pleasure of
taking Jeremiah’s usual seat at the head of the table and said
“Good morrow, brethren”.
    “Good morrow, Brother Sycko,”
came the reply in unison.
    “Pray be seated,” Sycko said
with a smile.
    They sat down and sang the song
that was customary for welcoming a new member into their
fraternity.
     
    For he’s a freshly baked
bun,
    For he’s a freshly baked
bun.
    And so say all of us,
    And so say all of us.
     
     
     

The Laws of the Lord
     
    Moderation, the noblest gift of
heaven.
    Euripides, Medea
     
    Later that day Master Jeremiah
asked Sycko to join him in his study. “My dear Sycko,” he said
warmly. “It’s such a great pleasure to have you with us as a
brother in our noble and holy fraternity, indeed, I would say it’s
almost miraculous that you found to us in the lawless concrete
jungle out there, more proof, if proof was needed, that the good
Lord works miracles and that His kind and merciful eyes are always
gazing down upon us.” He paused briefly to allow the words of
profound wisdom he had spoken to sink in before continuing. “It is
now time that we look at the laws that God has given us.”
    Sycko looked surprised. “There
are laws?”
    “Why, yes of course, my dear
fellow brother. It’s all in The Holy Dryvel. The Lord’s ten laws,
those golden laws that enable us humans, pitiful creatures that we
are, to live together in peace and harmony. The laws that make us
into humans and set us apart from the brutish animal kingdom. They
are the laws that every Dryveller must obey, and to obey them it is
of course necessary to know and to understand them.” He peered at
Sycko for a moment as though he expected an answer but when Sycko
merely sat and looked at him with a semi-vacant stare Jeremiah went
on unperturbed. He put a copy of The Holy Dryvel on the table and
opened it. “Here it is, God’s own word, the only book that matters
in this world. Everything you need to know is in here,” he said
happily and patted the book.
    “Really everything?” Sycko said.
“I wish I’d had it at school. Would have saved me lots of trouble.
You wouldn’t believe how many books they gave us there and to
imagine that one book is enough…”
    “Eh, well yes, there you go. I
quite agree. Everyone at school should have a copy of The Holy
Dryvel. But let’s have a look at what the laws of God actually say.
Here is the first law:
     
    I. The Holy Dryvel is God’s
word.
     
    You will agree that this is most
important, my dear Sycko. After all, without it how would we know
that everything in The Holy Dryvel