Stage Directions: Cue Julius Fucik, Entrance of the Gladiators.
“What did you say about my eyes?” Sadie asked the distracted Prime Minister.
“Um, your eyes…your eyes…oh yeah, your eyes…” he stammered, “are like firestorms on the surface of the sun…wait, no!”
Sadie jerked so hard on the trigger of the flamethrower that she lost her balance and began reeling and staggering, sending gouts of flame in every direction.
The Golem shrieked horribly and, in an instant, was melted into a massive, steaming puddle of formerly-enchanted clay.
The Fire Department arrived on the scene quickly, but wisely chose to wait until Sadie recovered her composure, or ran out of napalm; there were those who consuled both solutions to be appropiate.
“Hey, buddy, only I get to appoint consuls,” the Prime Minister warned.
Forgive the extra post, but we have hired a new Yiddish translator, Rabbi Ben Carwreck.
What Sadie actually said was, “tee, hee, hee sigh. Tell me more about my eyes.”
And the Golem, “Oye Gevalt!”
-The Management
Sadie dropped the flamethrower from nerveless fingers and threw herself into the quickly-cooling pool of ex-Golem, sobbing, “What have I done?”
“Not to worry already!” Rabbi Yehudah ben Bezalel Levai of Prague calmed the Bubie, (as he did quite often, not our bubie, but other bubies, but your author doth digress) shoveled the clay into his Mitzvah Tank and began, well, doing whatever one does to re-create a Golem.
“You can’t do that!” said the Prime Minister crossly, er, Star-of-David-y.
“You want the support of the Lekham party in the next election, or not?” grumbled the Rabbi from inside his Mitzvah Tank.
Footnote: .04% in the last election.
Emanating from a window on the hill off in the distance you could hear the faint sound of a television… “I’ll take Jewish Politics for a $1000, Alex!”
The back door of the Mitzvah Tank opened, and as the repaired Gloem stepped out, Rabbi Yehudah ben Bezalel Levai of Prague gave the Kohane Blessing.
The Rabbi stared, dumbstruck by the realization that he’d made a Gloem and not a Golem.
While the Rabbi considered the confusion of writing left to right, the Golem calmed Sadie, saying, “It was a perfectly normal mistake; hey, let me borrow your flamethrower for a minute.”
“Gramma, Gramma!” little Joshie sat upright in his bed and called out to his mother’s mother “I had the most awfullest nightmare about you!”
“It’s alright, Tchatzhkellah,” Bubie hugged her grandchild, “Bubie stays on the Straight Dope too much; Go back to sleep,” and she closed her laptop and held the child while he slept.
There came a knock on the door.
“Beat it,” hissed the Golem as he warmed up his 1920’s Style Death Ray, “the kid’s asleep!”
“But,” said the Fuller Brush Man, “I only want to show my new line to the lady of the house”