One perfect day, Miriam (Moses’ sister) and the Goddess of Music, Cheri (Terpsichore) were ‘doing lunch’ at El Celeste Lindo, outside the gates of Heaven. Miriam was explaining to her old friend, Cheri, just why the washed up Johnny Passion’s musical revival was very important to “He with No Name.

“Cheri, this is a direct quote from The Big Cheese.”

Miriam opened her purse and removed a piece of rock. She read what was written on the small flat stone. It read, “Miriam, before you leave for your goddamned vacation, please Tell Cheri that the new tunes make me flip my goddamned lid! Tell my dear Goddess to help Johnny with his goddamned pipes so that these goddamned songs get done—right. Sincerely, Your Friend, He with No Goddamned Name

“He with No Goddamned Name? Isn’t that a Clint Eastwood movie?” Cheri asked, looking up at the heavens. “‘The Big Cheese?’ Tell me Miriam, where does he get these names?”

“Last week God was a ‘she’ with the name Betty.”

Cheri knew that God loved collecting names, like her foot fetishist friend Achilles loved to collect toenail clippings in shoe boxes.”Sorry, Miriam. I’ve been busy trying to get Johnny’s comeback ready.”

The real reason that Miriam had joined Cheri at El Celeste Lindo was to persuade the goddess to go out with her brother, Moses, the former Prince of Egypt. Miriam was no better than a pimp with her shameless pandering, trying to force her basically shy brother into Cheri’s busy life. “Cherrrrrri, You should go out with my brothah the loiiiiiiiiii-yah. The last time Miriam lunched with Cheri, at El Celeste Lindo, “Heaven’s BEST Tacos 1992” she wouldn’t let up.

“Prince of Egypt? I have a cat named Joe, Miriam. He must have been an Egyptian god. He leaves me a pyramid every morning to clean up.”

“You shoulda been Joan Rivers.”

Cheri tried to be respectful, which was never her ‘best suit’. “Your brother? The guy who still wears his baby blankie and talks to bushes?”

“Give Moe a break. You hardly know the guy.”

“I hear that he’s a very headstrong man, Miriam. Forty years of dragging around all of those tired people… I could hear those poor souls now, ‘Are we there yet, Daddy? Please father Moses, lets pull over. I really need to pee!’ I can see him driving his ox cart through the Sinai, swinging his arm behind him, like Rubio’s parents—trying to shut up the whiny children of Israel in the back seat and knocking all of their crayons onto the floor mats.”

Cheri had never really met the guy. She assumed that she knew all about him from what she had read…well, by what she had seen in the Ten Commandments as played by Charlton Heston, which was 98.2% accurate.

While Cheri spoke to Miriam, she was thinking to herself, He has a beard that looks like soggy shredded wheat.

“Miriam read Cheri’s mind. He shaved last week. Well, Cherrrri, they did make it to the Land of Milk and Honey. Finally,” said Miriam, while downing her third margarita.

“Milk shmilk. Honey Shmoney. Miriam, your brother’s so-called ‘promised land’ was the only spot in the freakin’ Middle East without any oil.”

“Yeah. So what, Miss Perfect? Did you give up your bump and grind hootchie-cootchie dancing, yet?”

God, who often followed the exploits his/her favorite goddess Cheri, was listening in on the women’s conversation, while he sizzled in the center of their table. Today, God was an order of Cuervo Flaming Fajitas. God was not merely impersonating the fajitas. God does not act. God became the fajitas, and, wow, they were really fucking good.

God just was feeling spicy that day, and the reaction to the meal was an orgasmic “Oh, God!”

The Cuervo Flaming Fajitas spoke to Cheri, in the voice of James Earl Jones: “Behold! I heard that, Terpsichore, I mean Cheri! If I were you, I’d be careful of what thou sayeth. I shall spare thee fine booty this time. Though, behold! There will be no dessert for you tonight! But you’ve got to try the flan the next time you eat here. Now go and get thy showeth on the roadeth.”

So, Miriam told Cheri, ”Go. Go help Johnny now, or he’ll never be reincarnated from being a musician to the status of a starving feral cat. Do it for the little people.”

“I tested those ‘little people’ and they went for disco like flies on poop! And I’m getting tired of babysitting Johnny? He’s a nice guy and all, but… shit!”

“Your attitude!” said Miriam. “What has happened to you, my friend? Think of Johnny’s talent as God’s way of saying, ‘Thanks kids, in return for all the tawdry entertainment you’ve given me.’”

“That’s exactly what I would have said,” said the Cuervo Flaming Fajitas, who were getting cold. God added, “I really am sorry for that last episode of The Sopranos.

Cheri thought of her friend Johnny and his true love, Rebel. Just maybe, maybe I can finally bring peace to them. She must find Johnny’s love.

Or. She could just fuck him and toss a happy face headstone on top of his grave. Below the headstones dwelled the genuine grateful dead.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Miriam. “Remember, my dear friend, that’s my superpower. I hear everything. I’m Super Yenta!”

“Then, what have you heard about Johnny’s big comeback? How long will this keep going on for, Miriam? I cannot do this much longer. I need a real vacation. When is Johnny Passion’s ‘big moment’ going to happen?”

“Maybe a few months. Sinatra, Nat Cole and Torme are on their way over to his house right now for rehearsal. Schwieghaft’s ghost might even show up!”

“You’re kidding! The Arnold Schweighaft? The singing hemophiliac who choked while eating roaches at day camp?”

“It was spiders, Cheri. Not as gross.”

“Ooh! I gotta run, Miriam! I gotta go see this!”


“What, Miriam?”

“You’re not going to finish eating your plate of God?”

“Eat me, baby,” said the plate, obscenely. “C’mon Cheri. What do I look like, Taco Hell?”