Pool_2

"You got me from a ..." "Nooooo. Silly. That's the point. There's no percentage in that. What chance, uhgh, no, no, no. Think of all the names that come before Johnson." "So?" "You can't tell the chosen, not God's chosen, anyways." "So, so, so.." "But the followers of the devil, his chosen, stand out in the crowd. They have an unmistakable aura." "Of what?" "Growth - not of the body. Devils, and devil wanna be's, they all fester and swell, dissolving what's around them.. They erode the clear boundaries that define the rest of us. Evil. It's a dead give away. Growth out of harmony. Cancer. Shapeless predatory growth. Formlessness is a dead giveaway. It permeates the body, assumes it's shape then swells. It has no hesitations, no dogmas that slow consumption. Consumption, hmmm, interesting that I should use that word." The guest paused, looking inward to a mournful bleakness, then resumed, "Evil has mastery over words. Like the sirens with song, the words of evil are sweetness, comforting, luring and laden with self evident truths, platitudes, righteous dogmas.... bait, basically.... mind bait..." The man of words was nearly drifting into a swoon with the rhythm of this account. ".. truth.. veracity.. exactitudes.. frankness.. equity.. canon.. doctrine .. precepts.. rule.. law.. Law!" He shouted the last word which startled the already very spooked listener. The guest brightened with an insight, "Hey. You're a big deal at the law school!" pausing, "It fits. You've got it all. You're no apprentice. Noooooooo. No no no. So what exactly does he call you by?"