“The time has come,” muttered Pasht to herself for the umpteenth time as she watched the two men talking from behind her veil. Now this veil was actually multi-dimensional, because Pasht’s disguise as a vegetable seller was her main veil (to prevent mortals shrieking and prostrating on their knees on witnessing divinity) and the superficial veil was the yashmak which all women in the country wore. The two men were approaching her now. The one on the right was tall, wore a white cap and had a rose pinned onto his vest coat. The other man was shorter, dressed in uniform, and looked like he owned the place (which, in fact, he did). As the men passed her, she said, in a soft but audible voice, “Go to the Sphinx, O great leaders, and you will find a weapon to unleash the power of the third world.” And with these enigmatic words, she vanished (to gasps and screams from the crowd, and to a look of utter bewilderment on the faces of the two men).
Well, the two men had concluded their business for the day, so they decided to go check out the Sphinx anyway. As they neared it, they saw that the Sphinx was smiling down upon them, with unmistakable happiness visible in every line (actually every brick) of the weathered face. And then she spoke with a clear voice (in ancient Egyptian, not translated until much later). And then the Sphinx smiled at them (rather seductively, I might add), and smote the ground with her paws. And a gaping hole opened up, and a small treasure chest was revealed (this can be attributed to the long struggle in the centuries past, which made Pasht so paranoid she wanted the original temple to be preserved just in case the new ones were overcome by evil). And when the chest was opened, the two men saw a book that told them what had to be done (actually it was meant to be an e-book, but the war ended a little sooner than the paranoid Pasht had expected, and making an e-book using the computing machines of the day would have required a forklift).
The military man then said, “Friend, I have a lot of worries here. My friends think I am weak and my enemies think I am gullible. The once persecuted are threatening to steal my waterway. My brothers think I am the one who shall betray them. My people swim for a quarter of the year and die of thirst the rest of the time. So you better do all this stuff in your country.” To which the other man replied, “This is not a question of your choice. Did you not hear the poem? The temples are destined to be in my country. And so it shall be.”
In due course, the man returned home and began work on the temples. Six there were, though only three he built then. The fourth came later, and later the fifth, and very recently the sixth. And the Mobai were born again, and spread across the world, acting as the pillars of society.
Not until much later were the words of the Sphinx made available to the public (and even this was made possible only due to the amazing invention of buttons, which now enabled curious pressmen who loved imitating angry bees to snoop on unsuspecting people and prove their dishonesty). In one such case, the victim bought his way out of the pit he had dug for himself by giving the original translated manuscript to the press. And even then, such a revelation did the manuscript cause in the editor’s chamber (reportedly, the editor plucked all his hair out and then started yelling about how he shall embrace a religion and be an atheist no more). The words are reprinted below:
Conquered lie all the evils that time did bring
But that winter is over and now has come the spring
After centuries of sorrow and years of great pain
The Mobai temple shall now rise once again
Six there shall be, in a land far far away
Very soon now they shall see the light of day
In a land where the fabric of freedom is not frayed
Where a prince once with lion cubs played
In the city of fearless bunnies the first shall rise
And one in the city of joy shall then arise
The ancient town of boiled beans shall the third see
In the city named after a famous brother, the fourth shall be
The fifth shall see the blue sea and also the green hill
Sound like ‘not outside’, the sixth one will
More may arise later, only time will tell
But rejoice, for it is now the end of the dark spell.
The deserving shall be sacrificed once every year
They shall be trained to face anything and know no fear
The Mobai shall reawaken, but with a new name
Prime vowels shall vanish, and the rest shall attain fame
To Pasht will be dedicated the holy sacrifice
Every year shall see a fresh unwelcome surprise
The survivors will be rare, on the back will they get a pat
And the process shall henceforth be known as the ***.”
Epilogue: The Mobai are still going strong. The sacrifice is now harder than ever. Pasht’s wildest dreams have come true. When last seen, she was sunbathing on B.E.A.C.H. ®, all caution thrown to the winds. Evil has given up the fight and is now searching for less powerful enemies to attack. End of story.