What Is Your Pleasure?

My, my, my. What have we here?

Come here, boy; step into the light so that I can look upon you. Hmm, a bit scrawny, aren't you? Do they not feed you properly from where you come? Is there a pestilence of inadequacy sweeping across the land of your home?

Sorry, please forgive me, I meant no disrespect. So rarely do I get the opportunity to converse with a visitor, and given that you are such a "fine specimen" of manhood, I thought we could share in a joke. I assume you journeyed all this way and undertook such perils out of great need. Were none of your sisters available or perhaps your mother? No?

Huh, huh, huh. Many pardons, just another joke, I could not resist.

Oh, so serious. Very well, onto business. You have come before me because you desire something, is that correct? You need something that only I can provide, is that accurate? Tell me, good sir, what is your pleasure?

Wait, let me guess! Is it jewels and gold or is it power and rule? Do you crave vengeance to regain your honor or is reclaiming a stolen birthright, the heart of your quest? Perhaps you desire for me to conceal your light from Hades himself and live as an immortal?

Ah, could it be a woman? A soft and delicate creature, whose beauty rivals that of even Helen of Troy. Or is it a man, which honestly makes much more sense? You have the look of the makings to eventually become an adequate housewife. Worry not, I am not one to judge; I believe everyone should be free to love whomever they want?

Relax, I jest. It is all in good fun.

Oh, such a frown. No, I do not mock you, not entirely. I do get carried away from time to time. How inconsiderate of me, for this day, is about you! You, oh brave knight of the unfulfilled dreams! It is for you, oh wise scholar whose knowledge is unsurpassed in how not to please a woman. This day was made for you, oh mighty adventurer from the land of short-comings! Your quest awaits, oh prince of disappointment to your father!

Ha, ha, ha. Shall we begin?

Your trial is simple. You need only to name me. Yes, it is that simple. Every one of your heart’s desires will be yours for the taking. You will never know rejection or failure for the remainder of your days. All is within my power, except perhaps making you pleasing to the eyes or preventing a woman from laughing when you remove your clothing. There are things that even an all-powerful, eternal being is incapable of achieving. Heh heh, heh.

But seriously, listen to the riddles I recite, and then speak my name. If you do that, you will walk away from here forever changed. Fail. Well, failure would be quite a humorous end, indeed.

Listen carefully, for I speak these words only once.

I am one of three siblings, born from an exile,

We had no mother or father, but we have one son.

When spoken aloud,

My name echoes three times proud.

Live your life and times that by two,

You’ll see my name all too soon.

Speak out, speak like your manhood has dropped! Let them hang with pride as you vanquish this dark entity with her own name! No guess do you have to offer? Oh very well, let us continue.

It is the beginning of time and the end of space,

From all to nothing, eyes on an eternal face.

Do it again and break it in half,

Line it up and see my laugh.

Anything? No? One more tale before we come to the end.

My name has no letters,

No sound of mere words.

It's a name of a King,

The one you have heard.

This fiery King,

His kingdom did burn,

As a violin sang as his people mourned.

Now this is truly my favorite part: the dull eyes of a cow and the look of a fool you show. The dread soon begins to creep from the pits of your stomach and is reflected in your eyes. Yes, there it is! I see it! The realization now emerges, the truth of the matter is known and these words form in your head, "The game is now over and I have lost."

What is this, tears? Please, show some dignity! With all of that blubbering and carrying on, how are you going to hear the answer I reveal to you? So listen carefully to my final rhyme, man-boy! Tell me, can you identify me now? Now that it does not matter?

My name is of numbers,

The same as my brothers.

But you may call me "6".

Sitting with my brothers betwixt,

One by one and then the next.

They too are named "6" and "6".

We are all identical, none more or the least,

For we are the mark, the Mark of the Beast.

You look confused, son of Adam? Did you truly believe we were mere ink to be embedded in the skin of your flesh? Did you think we were such incompetent fools to allow our master plan to be spread like mundane chit chat in a book of revelations? Do you honestly believe your vain hearts would voluntarily take our mark upon your foreheads? You are such simple creatures with simple thoughts! You know no nothing of the world other than what is within you fields of perception! Sight, sound, touch, and smell; such primitive tools to view your world. I almost pity you, if it not for your arrogance.

Now come here, so that I may claim my prize.

Oh, stop your cowering! What purpose is there in my exertion, to merely dance on your innards and bathe in your blood, or whatever nonsense you've conjured in your head? That is so twelfth century. No, I've won your servitude, that is what I value. Now all I must do is take my nail and mark the back of your neck with the glyph of my order. That will signify to others that you belong to me and are not to be touched; unless they have obtained my permission of course.

Now be gone, until I summon you!

Hesitation? Now that is a first. Never has one paused nor shown anything but relief at that sound of my dismissal. You have a question, I see it burning in your eyes. I can almost hear it as it come to rest on the very tip of your tongue. You wish to know what is the Mark. You are full of surprises! Such bravado for such a sickly looking thing. Fortune smiles upon you this very night, I have grown fond of your girlish mannerisms. It is much like having an effeminate pet at my side. Heh, heh, heh. I will excuse this insolence.

Just this once.

What you ask is forbidden to speak of, even though it burns my very essence to shout it aloud. For it is the greatest of deceptions and the finest of all jokes I have ever told. I do love a good joke, as you can tell. Sadly, I am bound to silence by forces so cruel, even I shudder to earn their disapproving eye. Unlike me, they are far less forgiving and have no sense of humor that I can detect. Be that as it may, I am not permitted to reveal the nature of the Mark to you. However, I will tell you this. The Mark of the Beast is not a physical mark. It is a mark of the spirit, a mark of the soul! It is a spiritual mark, a symbol of action seen as the right hand, and it is a spiritual mark of thought; the mark upon the forehead.

This joke fills me with fits of uncontrollable bouts of giggles that can overcome me for hours. I often fail to contain it, much to the disapproval of my brothers, but I yearn to tell it more than anything and above all else! I want so bad to tell man this:

It is already too late. The Mark of the Beast has already arrived and is upon you. Despite all your caution and all your prayers, chances are, you have already taken it. It secretly rests upon your right hand and upon your head and you don't even know it yet!

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Written by KillaHawke1
Content is available under CC BY-SA