The Beginning of the Plagues

And so, here I am in Los Angeles for barely a day… And I find myself with my ankles shackled, and being milked for my labor… Not by a Monarch, but rather Pharaoh Archy.

I have been tasked with building pyramids. I move blocks. I build. I am a builder. I move more blocks. I build. I am a builder even more.

As I sweat in the sun of Los Angeles while Archy tries to recreate Giza in America, singlehandedly, I look towards the sunset. My labors and days are long. I look to Yahweh.

Lord, Archy beats me on my back with reeds. He takes pleasure in this, a wicked pleasure. Lord, Archy feeds me very little. Lord, my hands do bleed and callouses crack. Lord, these shackles hurt. Lord, what can we do about Archy?

It came to me in a dream later in the night. Yahweh would bring plagues against the Tyrannical Archy.

Today, the plagues will begin.

On this first day, the L.A. rivers will run red. I will await Yahweh to deliver on this.

For the time being, I will make more Matzoh. I will crunch on it, and await relief from Yahweh.

To Be Continued…

Somewhere within The Golden Scarab, Archy sat comfortably behind his desk, reading @SweetpieSpikeS’ public declaration of suffering. By the time he reached the first mention of Yahweh and plagues, a grin had already spread across his face. By the end, he was laughing so hard he nearly spilled his tea.

A few minutes later, a written response appeared.

My loyal subject Spike,

It warms my heart to see that after only a single day in Los Angeles, you've already embraced the rich history and culture of my ancestors.

Many men visit Egypt and leave with souvenirs. You apparently left with the Book of Exodus.

First, allow me to thank you for the title. Pharaoh Archy has a certain ring to it. I may even have it engraved somewhere.

Second, I am delighted to hear news of the coming plagues. I've always felt Los Angeles lacked a sense of grandeur.

Sure, we've got movie stars, politicians, businessmen, and criminals.

But rivers of blood, divine wrath, and biblical prophecy? Now that's entertainment.

Archy took a long sip of tea.

I was particularly touched by your description of your labor.

"I move blocks. I build."

Beautiful. Poetic, even.

I've already instructed my staff to preserve those words for future generations. Perhaps they'll be carved onto a stone tablet and placed near the entrance of the pyramid. Future visitors will marvel at the dedication of the worker who moved Block Number Seventeen.

As for your suffering, I assure you that it has not gone unnoticed.

Every great monument has its heroes…

The Pharaoh receives praise. The laborers receive character development. Such is the natural order of the universe.

Now then.

You claim I stand over you with reeds. Such an outrageous exaggeration.

The reeds are ceremonial. There's a difference. And as for your diet, I've personally observed you consuming enough matzah to survive a siege.

Frankly, I'm beginning to suspect we're spending more on food than construction materials. 

Still, I admire your determination.Most men would simply place the stones where they're told. You, however, place the stones and then compose scripture about the experience. That kind of initiative is rare.

Perhaps someday historians will debate your writings.

They'll call it:

"The Lamentations of Spike."

The Pharaoh's grin widened.

As for Yahweh's intervention, I welcome it.

Let the rivers run red.

Let frogs descend upon the city.

Let locusts fill the skies.

If this pyramid is destined to become a landmark, it might as well receive a proper grand opening.

But I should warn you.

The last fellow who challenged a Pharaoh wound up spending forty years wandering around the desert. Given that we're in California, that would probably put you somewhere near Nevada.

Archy leaned back in his chair.

In the meantime, the stones remain where they are. The pyramid remains unfinished and the sun will rise tomorrow just as it did today.

So take heart, Spike. When future generations gaze upon the majestic skyline of Los Angeles and see a great pyramid standing among the skyscrapers, they won't remember the skeptics. They'll remember the vision and somewhere, carved into a small stone near the rear entrance, there may even be a plaque that reads:

"Built by Spike, under the benevolent and unquestionably divine supervision of Pharaoh Archy."

May your back remain strong and your plagues arrive on schedule.

Pharaoh Archy

Lord of The Golden Scarab

Keeper of the Nile in Exile

Builder of Monuments

Receiver of Complaints

Future Ruler of the Los Angeles Giza District

You were taken too soon SweetnessSpikeyBabes. 

I hope those red rivers become clear with time