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don ’ t you know. He was only ridden once a week by a little old human pestilence female to church on Sundays. ”
    “ I thought you said Hargundu was a Legion camel, ” replied Telk, shoving the camel ’ s nose away as it followed.
    “ See! Hargundu knows his name. He is a highly trained and devoted pack camel. ”
    “ He smells awful. ”
    “ My camel washer called in sick, ” explained Big Al quickly. “ Good help is so hard to find out here on the Frontier. I ’ ll tell you what. I ’ ll loan you Hargundu for a week. If Hargundu does not pull his weight, you bring him back. Your Legion credit is good, only ninety-nine dollars for ninety-nine months! Deal? ”
    “ Whatever, I don ’ t care, ” answered Private Telk, exhausted from the heat, throwing his gear and ammo on Hargundu ’ s back. The camel immediately reared up, and ran off into the desert with the gear. That was the straw that broke the camel’s – er, Telk’s – back. He threw up his hands in dismay and collapsed under the palm tree Hargundu had previously favored. The mirage of another fantasy overtook him...
     
    * * * * *
     
    Roman legionnaire Randalus Telklius was a simple soldier in a hostile foreign land, homesick for the cool breezes of the Imperial colony of Ithaca. With each blistering step , Telklius regretted the day he met that pushy Legion recruiter, the Centurion Maximus Bullshitticus. See the world, fun, travel, and adventure , Bullshitticus had promised.
    Telkius was seeing the armpits of the world alright, for the duration. It seemed Rome was always at war with somebody. All Telkius wanted to do was to go home and live in peace, sitting on his porch rocker watching naked girls squish grapes all day with their big feet. Telkius so missed the grape - squishing season, and big feet.
    Today Telkius and his cohorts were searching houses looking for some religious malcontent. A snitch placed the religious nut real close. Malcontents were not tolerated by the Empire, and his execution would be slow and painful. Ha! Talk about the sheep calling the goat smelly , groused Telkius , stopping to pick a rock from his sandal. How could anyone be content in this godforsaken place of stifling heat and scorpions?
    The snitch got new information, pointing out a hovel on the edge of town. Telkius and the legionnaires burst in, brutally seizing the criminal. Oddly, the man remained composed, yet defiant.
    “ Soldier, you lay hands upon the Son of God. I curse you. For all eternity you shall be nothing but a soldier, never knowing death. Your family and lovers will wither away, but you shall remain, cursed to wander alone. ”
    “ Jesus, ” replied Telkius , letting go. Thunder crackled outside.
    “ Yes? We ’ ve met? ”
    “ What? Not likely. ”
    “ I am Jesus of Nazareth. I will not resist arrest, but you soldier, are on my shit list! ”
    “ Christ, you are a nut case! ” replied Telkius , backhanding the malcontent, delivering the first pimp slap in the Holy Land. “ I hope they crucify you. ”
    “ They probably will, ” lamented Jesus. “ You Romans have no sense of humor about religious freedom. How about we make a deal? I ’ ll lift the curse, and you let me ride away on my trusted camel, Hargundu? ”
    “ Not good enough, ” haggled Telkius , no rube to negotiating with locals. “ I keep the camel. You ride out on an ass. What else do you have to offer? ”
    “ You will surely burn in Hell, ” threatened Jesus, brightening. “ How about I give you my sister, Yolanda? ”
    As if on cue, Yolanda entered the room. Angels sang from above, birds tweeted, she had a halo glow about her. Obviously Yolanda was pure, a virgin among camp sluts and followers. Surely Telkius would not catch crabs this time. And her feet, so large! Firm, wide - toed, grape - squishing feet to die for. Telkius took the fair and limber Yolanda in his arms, drawing her sensuous feet to his lips, and chewing off a bunion. Telkius loved women with