The Nativity of Fenris

As many of you Dopers know, our esteemed SDMB colleague Fenris is bidding to become Cecil’s Metatron and Replacement on the Board (you can read all about it in this thread). Sadly, as yet Fenris’s attempt to be recoginsed as the undisputed representative of Cecil on “earth” has not been accepted by all (most of all Cecil Himself). Now, some years ago another man had a similar problem, but he was helped out by a useful piece of propaganda. And if it’s good enough for that JC fellow, surely it’s good enough for Fenris….

In the beginning was The Dope, and The Dope was with Cecil, and The Dope was Cecil. It was with Cecil in the beginning. Through Cecil all things were explained; without him nothing was explained that has been explained. In him was The Dope, and The Dope was the light of the Teeming Millions. Everything that was not of The Dope, was of Ignorance; and Ignorance has never understood The Dope.


Now the choosing of Fenris as Cecil’s Metatron was in this way. Ed Zotti was working at his desk at The Reader when he heard the voice of Cecil. “Little Ed! Greetings, Cecil is with you.”
“Yes, Cecil?” asked Ed, trembling.
“Do not be afraid, Little Ed, you have found favour with me. You will find my Board representative, and you are to give him the name Fenris. He will be great, and will be called the Metatron, Cecil II, and Grand Poohbah.”
“How will this be,” Ed asked, “since the Board has operated for years without a Metatron?”
“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, or some such. Anyway, OpalCat your relative is to have a Metatron, and the Fathom Forum has never had one.”
“Opal isn’t going to have a Metatron,” complained Ed.
“Silence, minion!” boomed Cecil. “You should know that nothing is impossible with Cecil.”
“If nothing is impossible with you, why do you need someone to sub for you on the Board?”
“It is true that nothing is impossible with me. But that does not mean that all things are practical, or even desirable. I’ve got better things to do than read the spewings of the Teeming Millions every day. Just make sure it gets done.” Then Cecil left.

In those days a great DopeFest was to be held in Chicago. Ed still had some money in his expense account, so he decided to stick The Reader with the cost of a hotel room. He went to the downtown Hilton, but there was no room for him there. Next he tried the Four Seasons, but there was no room there either. Lastly he tried the Super 8. Again there was no room for him, but the desk clerk told him that there might be somewhere to sleep behind the dumpster in the back alley. So Ed went there.

When he got there, he saw a man rooting through the dumpster. “What are you doing?” asked Ed.
“I’m looking for stories to write about the Mods,” said the man.
Ed was impressed. “Who are you?”
”I am the one they call Fenris,” he said.
Fenris!” Ed exclaimed. “You are the Chosen One. You are the Metatron, the Cecil II, the Grand Poohbah.”
Fenris beamed. And at that moment, a large neon sign began to glow, directly above his head.

And at the same time TubaDiva happened to glance out the window, and saw the glow. She contacted Lynn Bodoni at once. “Do you see that?” she asked.
Lynn affirmed it. “What do you think it means?”
“Either the Metatron has been found, or a casino has been opened on the shore of Lake Michigan. Either way, I think we ought to check it out. Send the Three Wise Mods…look, just send Three Mods to Chicago.”

And so three of the Mods travelled to Chicago, bearing gifts to the Metatron. From the Netherlands, Coldfire brought a pale yellow cheese. Arnold Winkleried bore a DVD of a horror movie. And Cajun Man carried a fine pair of cowboy boots. So these were the gifts brought to Fenris: Gouda, Frankenstein, and spurs.

After the Mods found Fenris, they spread the word about him, and all who heard it were amazed. But Ed treasured up all these things and pondered them in his heart. The Mods returned from whence they came, glorifying and praising Cecil for all the things they had heard and seen, but they still tried to bill The Reader for their airfare.


So, Cecil, I beseech you! Anoint Fenris as your representative! (Of course, that would put everyone in danger of having to read “The Temptation of Fenris,” “Fenris Walks on Water,” “Fenris Feeds the Five Thousand,” etc.….)


Question A: Wot’s a “metatron”?

Question B: Are you sucking up to Fenris?

Question C: If so, why? (sorry, Opal!)

Obvious isn’t it?

When Fenris becomes the replacement Cecil (i.e. the pod-Cecil), Duke’s bucking for replacement Fenris.

There can be only one.

I’ll cast in my vote if I get Fenris’ parking spot.

I would just like to say that “gouda, Frankenstein and spurs” was pretty damn clever.


Yeah tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of Cecil.
I shall fear no (insert name of your favorite troll here).
for Fenris art with me.
His threads and his post count they comfort me.
He preparith a rant before me in the presence of sock puppets.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my posting,
And I shall dwell in the SDMB forever.

i humbly make application for one of the positions of the Twelve Apostles.

BTW, I’m hungry. When’s that Last Supper? And why is it the last?

This is the way I heard it happened:

EZ: Who are you??
F: Ahhh, it’s like this, I mean, well…
EZ: Get out! Never darken our doorway again! All Hail Cecil! And remind Duke that the restraining order is still in force!

whitetho, this is getting somewhat tedious.

Duke was nice enough to open a thread to spread the word, and you have to come in and start the same nay-saying stuff you did in the original thread. Give us a break.

Your “This is EVIL and WRONG” position is obviously a coverup for your feelings of jealousy. You want to be Cecil II, and you’re just cranked off that Fenris applied for the position first.


[sub]Scylla is no better.[/sub]