What language are they speaking? - asked Sarah. An old one. I think the Cro Magnons started it. Why? - said Edith. No - whispered Sarah - but how will the message get out? Do you all speak it? Do all the 'Reddies' speak it? Hell no. They don't even talk English right. They sound like a bunch of Jerry Springer people. They ain't never been to school.- snorted the Pow Wow Woman. And then we just stood there watching the show. Soon there was nothing left inside the crystaline bull but a pile of gummy bones sloshing around in a pink-red, bubbly broth. Someone screwed out an unseen quartz peg corresponding to the navel of the beast, and released the sickening contents into a copper caldron. Two dwarfs were lowered into the death chamber through the saddle opening. They collected the bones in burlap sacks. Then a few of the young men helped them clamber out..They dumped the bones at the feet of the blind shaman. The pile was quite large. Some woman came over and carried the bones to a small spring flowing out of a crack hidden in the shadows, where the reverently washed them. Then they carried the bones back to the blind shaman and dumped them down onto the stone floor. He screamed. That was all. He just screamed. And everyone there rushed forward. I hadn't noticed, but they were all clutching rocks, which they used to smash the ivory-like remains to bits. Shards flew all about us. People were injured. Smashed fingers were quite common. One young woman lost the sight in her left eye. And then they were through. Acolytes swept the sharp bits into piles, which they scooped up and deposited in a series of small, oaken casks. Everyone appeared to relax. I asked Edith what it all meant? What would be done with the remains? She said that the 'blessed' bones would be used to fashion magical spear points and arrow heads for use in the coming battle.. I said - You mean that Red Paint man was serious? There really is going to be a battle? And it's going to be in Philadelphia? She just cackled and nodded. Sarah, Baylah and I just looked at each other. And then all the people tore off their clothes and had an orgy. But not the children. Not the little ones. Some old folks shepherded them into an adjoining chamber where they sang songs and ate popcorn. I think they drank a little cider too. But it might have been something else....... Supposedly, everyone will 'know' the meaning of the sacred ramblings when they regain consciousness in the morning. I wonder what they're going to do with that oilly, gummy mess in the copper caldron.
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