Page 30 - Fables volume 3

Mantis considered his entreaty carefully before applying as much
sincerity to as he could muster in his weakened condition. “Most
Grand and Gracious Heavenly Lord of Summer Chirpers, if I find
favor in your eyes and ocelli, would you allow me to offer you the
valuable service of culling your flock? They do reproduce excessively
in the summer months, and I know you always seek ways of assuring
the survival only of the most worthy during a drought; let me take
care of the rest for you.”
He slowly made his way down to a lower limb, on the alert for
cicadas careening entranced in his direction. To no avail: long hot dry
minutes passed before he admitted his message had not been
appreciated, acknowledged or probably even received. He searched
his memory for one more supreme power he could cajole into saving
his life. Yes: maybe she was it: Mellona, goddess of bees.
“O Mistress of the Humming Hives!” Mantis blurted out, unable
to invest energy in a more considered appeal. “Drones are dying
every day, alone and abandoned, tiny but identical subjects of your
obedient queens. Why not give their lives a modicum of meaning by
making them meals for me, your ad hoc but faithful disciple?”
He could barely darken to match the burned bark to which he was
clinging. But moribund pollen-gatherers did not blunder into his
jaws. None of the otherworldly protectors of his prey saw fit to
include him in their plans. Then he saw the flaw in his program: why
would a protector lead any of its flock to him, their mortal enemy?
Never mind rational arguments for being an efficient means of
keeping their charges honest and of high quality: it went against some
pantheon code of beneficence or its appearance. No, he had to enlist
the aid of a member of their opposition, no matter the cost.
“Beelzebub!” He cried in anguish. “Lord of Flies! I summon you
from the deepest darkest maggoty pile of dung! Feed me.”
A flash of lightning and clap of thunder heralded the arrival of the
Dark Lord. “Mantis,” he intoned. “Here are a few fat and lazy
houseflies I don’t need. But you know the terms of delivery.”
“Yes, yes, I agree,” slobbered the mantis between mouthfuls. “I
agree. Just let me live a little longer.”
“It’s a deal,” replied the Devil. “I’ve already given permission to
the next female you meet to bite your head off.”

29