Page 25 - Unlikely Stories 4

Garden Snake

“Take your tail out of your mouth,” said God. “I’ve got a job for
you.”
Ouroboros spat out the half-chewed caudal extremity.
“I don’t have a tail. I am a tail. And a head. Simultaneously. That’s
how you wanted it, so you could test your theory about perpetual
motion. I was almost there. Now I’ll have to start all over again.”
“Never mind!” rumbled the deity. “Since you started doing that—
when was it? An eon ago—I figured out it can’t work. Thankfully
there is no other deity to laugh at my hubris. I let you go on because I
enjoyed your struggles: my sense of humor has no bounds. Anyway,
this is more important.”
“Oh?” His senses sent the serpent into a coil of craftiness. “What’s
in it for me?”
God chuckled. “Utterly selfish: my hand didn’t slip when I made
you.” Then, in a more serious tone: “How would you like a free
lifetime pass into the Garden?”
“Really?” The snake’s tongue flicked in all directions, anticipating
treats untasted. God had kept the snake and other predators out of
that bubble of childish joy and ignorance. The wily ophidian writhed
delightedly.
“Truth to tell, Boss, this auto-cannibalism got old way short of
eternity. So, you would allow me, an invasive species, into the
Garden, eh? Well, then, what about the rabbits? You’ve been teasing
me with delicious little bunny stories forever, God. Will there be
enough of them left for me to make a meal when I get there?”
“Oh, yes. Not to worry. I can dial up their birthrate any time I
wish.”
Ouroboros became a bouncing bedspring.
“Then I’m your reptile! What do I have to do?”
“Exactly what I tell you. First, let me give you a little more brain
power so you can get the gist of the jest.”

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