For your edification, a recently discovered fragment from Genesis. Mr. Snake: "Honey, I'm home!" Mrs. Snake: "Oh, good, dinner's nearly ready; I just have to constrict a couple of more voles. How was your day?" Mr. Snake: "Oh, you know, same ol', same ol'. I slithered around in the garden for a while, curdled the cow's milk, scared the poop out of Eve--that kind of stuff. Oh, btw, if you haven't already done those voles, hold off. I had a late rat and I'm not terribly hungry." Mrs. Snake: "Oh, that's alright honey, we'll just have them for breakfast (if you don't mange them during the "Survivor--The Neolitihic Dinosaur Era" marathon, tonight). Say, did you take a meeting with the creator and straighten out that whole talking thing?" Mr. Snake: "Yeah, that was a waste of time. He says that it's just not part of the gig. It was a "one time" event, he got what he needed and we get the shit end of the stick. He says that although the downside is that we are feared, reviled and extirpated by those idiot Two Leggers--and have no way to explain what happended-- that there is an upside. We'll never have to tithe OR pay taxes. He thought his little joke was pretty hilarious, what a prick! I just wish I had hands for long enough to flip him off, the asshole!" Mrs. Snake: "Oh, honey, don't do that to yourself; YWHW kicks your ass around enough as it is (it's just an expression--snakes don't have asses). Hey, how about I fix you a nice V&A (Venom and Antivenon), light on teh "A", you kick back and watch some of those cobra/mongoose pornos and we just kick back and twine our brains out? The voles aren't going anywhere."