הסיפור שלנו מתחיל ביום

הסיפור שלנו מתחיל ביום סגרירי ואפל

night in Jerusalem. I, Melchizedek (my friends just call me "Mel"), had just completed the secret night rituals at Yeshivat HaMekubalim. I first heard the footsteps behind me,

and I froze behind the Yeshivat, where I had gone alone after the rituals. Now it seemed intensely bright though it was night. "I shouldn't turn and look, should I?" The Presence

To give thanks I sacrificed a goat, but The Presence wasn't interested. I bought vinegar with the dime, marinated the goat carcass & set up a Goat Sashimi stall by the Yeshivat.

Goat sashimi is fantastic. Instead of wasabi, I use deli mustard. The knuckleheads from the Yeshivat play grab kippa and snack. But the real money is setting up by Sukah.

Colonel Mustard asked, "Where is the Grey Poupon?" as he made a sandwich for himself. Mean Mr. Mustard said it was at the other end of the long table. Miss Ketchup intervened.

Miss Ketchup used to be a tomato before she hit the sauce. She said that Colonel Mustard was too seedy for her tastes. They had both spread themselves too thin by now. The fridge

had been home to all the condiments for years but it had been a grave mistake to trust Soy and Teriyaki with the accounts. Damn Asians though the fridge. Perhaps Mayo was behind

The oily baby shit green maybe mustard colored cloud that screamed Really Bad Fart to a stocato beat that stood between her and a complete condiment packet collection of 1972.