Old Time Religion

The original furry bait, Anubis, was chosen by you all for October-November, and now, thousands of years later, Anubis is receiving sacrifices again- each one more fattening than the last. Enjoy, and thank you for your support!

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The Field of Reeds was a paradise unending for those that had proven themselves to Ma'at, a green and pleasant land filled with sprawling palaces and rich fields overflowing with good food, all resting along the tranquil waters of the river. For thousands of years, the faithful of the land of Egypt had rested, from the greatest of Pharaohs to the lowliest slave, in peace and comfort. Even the gods rested here, now- their temples back in the land of the living had long since gone dark; there were no blessings left to give, no prayers to listen to, and no sacrifices to receive, not for nearly two millennia.

However, not all was perfect in the Field of Reeds- many of the pharaohs, the sons of Ra and Horus, had been robbed of their great treasures that they had brought with them- foolish mortals had robbed their tombs millenia ago, and the gods had to provide for them in their time of need. Anubis, once the judge of souls, the jackal-headed gatekeeper and guardian of tombs, was the one tasked with fulfilling the needs of the pharaohs- once the adjudicator of the hearts of all Egypt, he had been relegated to a post somewhere between a guard dog, a servant, and a nurse maid. For centuries now, the Pharaohs had pleaded him to replace their lost splendor- Ramesses needed a new, solid gold boat, Hatshepsut needed a bed made entirely out of ivory and ebony, Tutankhamun needed a chariot with spinning rims, Ahmose II needed a feast made entirely out of pomegranates and gazelle flanks, the list went on and on. For centuries, Anubis had to fulfill requests and demands from Pharaohs who, in life, had armies of servants and slaves to attend to their every need. It was only by virtue of his godly powers that he was able to keep up with their demands, and he was starting to worry that eternal rest meant rest for everyone else, and eternity for him.

One day, after completing a new model pyramid for Khufu, Anubis trudged through the palace of Osiris, the King of the Underworld. He passed by halls of alabaster and perfumed cedar wood, walls adorned with colorful hieroglyphics, and beautiful, flowering gardens. "All of which used to belong to me," he thought bitterly. In short, Anubis was beginning to feel a little underappreciated. He passed by the cavernous Hall of Tributes, a massive room that once bulged with sacrifices to the gods and the honored dead, but had now stood empty for more than fifteen centuries. But then, the jackal's tall ears swivelled as he heard something hit the floor. He looked back inside, and saw a strange box, stamped with his cartouche. Gingerly, he picked it up. The box was made of a flimsy material that crinkled in his claws, but his nose wrinkled- he smelled meat. Peeking inside, he saw a half dozen meaty ribs, doused in a sauce he didn't recognize, but it was a pleasant aroma.

Anubis cradled the box, biting his lip. Before he accepted it, he needed to know what the sacrifice was for. He turned to the eastern wall, where hieroglyphics would appear to reveal the prayers given by the supplicants. Anubis' anticipation sank; the sacrifice was for some school problem, passing a test of some sort. This was for Thoth, obviously- and some foolish mortal had messed up the cartouche.

Then Anubis stopped to reconsider- it was his cartouche, undoubtedly. By all rights, this was his sacrifice to claim. But Anubis' powers were all related around death, judgement, and guardianship, not academics. How could he answer a prayer like this? The canine god paced for a moment, the aroma of the ribs making his mouth water, until he stopped and snapped his fingers- he had it.

That very evening, Micah Foster, a college student and undergrad fretting over a monster of an exam, was sitting in his room, starting to wonder if he had gotten a bit too desperate. He nearly jumped when his phone rang.

"Hey, Micah- great news! Exam's cancelled!"

The student frowned out of confusion. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah! Dr. Abrams is in the hospital- he got bit by like, a dozen cobras that appeared in his garden out of nowhere."

Thunderstruck, Micah let his phone drop, even as his friend continued rambling. "Oh my, uh… Gods…" he murmured. "It worked."

Anubis leaned back, sighing contentedly as he rubbed his middle- he didn't know what these mortals were doing with food these days, but it was fantastic. Every bone had been picked clean, the meat juicy and tender. It was a nice little break- whoever this mortal was, he had become Anubis' first new favorite in over a millenia.

The next few days began to establish a pattern- Anubis worked himself to the bone for the pharaohs, but then found another offering from his new worshipper. He did get creative- he couldn't make this mortal's crush fall for him, but he could curse the girl's current boyfriend with a grotesque affliction. He couldn't make him wealthy, but he could get him a lucrative job at a  mortician's office- and it seemed that his new follower was accordingly grateful. Every day, Anubis dined on rich meat, and he began to fill out- he used to look so powerful, but hard work and long hours had diminished him, somewhat- leaving him lean and slightly wan. Now, he was full-bodied again, with hard muscle under his sleek fur- even if the rich meals didn't quite return his chiselled abs to him; his middle was getting somewhat thick, but he cared little for that.

Then, after a few weeks of answering his new follower's prayers, he saw three sacrifices- all delicious flanks, his nose twitching at the tantalizing aroma. The prayer wall behind him became busy; one wanted help with his parents, another wanted to be better looking, and another was in desperate need of a job. These requests were getting harder to manage, but Anubis calmed himself- he would send nightmares to the parents until they agreed with their son, he would use his powers of mummification to preserve the other's skin, making it fresh and healthy, and another graveyard shift for the final prayer.

"Ah, another problem solved," Anubis muttered to himself, as he gathered his spoils. "I'm better at this than I thought!"

The next day, however, Anubis returned to six offerings- and six prayers to answer. The death god blanched for the first time, clutching his increasingly thickened middle. This was starting to get excessive. In his heyday, he could burn off six offerings in mere seconds- but that was when he was overseeing the embalming of hundreds of thousands of Egyptians on a daily basis, and stretched his resources to protect the tombs of countless pharaohs, weaving and maintaining guardian spells and curses- now, he was merely the pharaohs' dogsbody, which, while annoying, was less demanding than his old duties. But what was he to do? Reject them? He may never be worshipped again, if he were to do that now. Anubis steeled himself, already massaging his forehead to answer the prayers and accept the offerings…

Weeks in, and Anubis was losing track of the offerings he had been given, and every one had been accepted, and quickly eaten. The results were more than evident; the jackal-headed god's weight had ballooned tremendously. His finery and ceremonial armor did not do him much good after devouring so many sacrifices; his belly had swollen to a cauldron-like mass, straining the fine leather and gold-inlaid cloth wrapped around his wide waist. His long-suffering legs had been caked in layers of fat, his thighs wide enough to rob him of his stately gait and forcing him into a labored waddle. Atop the rolling hill of his belly, his once strong, fit chest sagged like two bags of flour, and his well-muscled arms had inflated with enough reams of blubber that his armbands, made of turquoise and gold, were beginning to warp.

Anubis saw that the Hall of Sacrifices was filling up, and what strange food he was being offered. Many still offered those delicious ribs, but others sent strange, buttery pastries, lathered in rich and heavy creams and toppings. They were shaped like rings, and so Anubis had taken to stacking them on a staff for easy carrying. Others were wrapped in material that was both colorful and diaphonous, and Anubis could only marvel of it all- what strange foods these mortals were making these days! And, he slowly realized, if he wanted to continue being worshipped again, he would have to accept all of it. Still, this was manageable- it could be made to be manageable, surely. Just so long as the number of sacrifices didn't keep rising so quickly...

Back in the world of the living, Micah was waiting to speak with an accountant, a stack of paper forms in his lap. Finally, he was called into the office.

"Just so I am understanding this correctly, Mr. Foster, you want to apply for a 1032 tax form to register a… religious organization? What religious organization would that be?"

"Oh, uhm…" Micah bit his lip for a moment. "Can I be registered as a priest of Anubis?"