Genesis

by Jack Geurts

“Not a bit.”

  “Bones weren’t too crunchy?”

  “No, they were perfect.”

  “How about the clothes?”

  God frowns. “The clothes?”

  “Yeah, the clothes didn’t bother you too much? They probably burned off in the fire, right?”

  “What are you talking about, what fucking clothes? You put clothes on a...”

  Then it hits him.

  God goes pale. Looking a little sick now, like he might throw up.

  Then, he throws up.

  Coughing and spluttering, he says, “Jesus Christ. That was Abel?”

  “Yeah. Shame I didn’t keep some for myself. Looked pretty tasty the way you went to town on him.”

  “You jealous fucking prick. Why? Because he had a better sacrifice than you did?”

  “What was I supposed to do, just bend over and take it?”

  God lets out a sigh. “You know I gotta banish you, right?”

  “Oh, come on...”

  “No, that’s it, man. You’re fucking out of here. I can’t just sweep this under the rug like it’s nothing.”

  “Hey, you never said we couldn’t kill each other.”

  “I didn’t think I had to. It was implied. Jesus – first your dad, now you. Unless I spell it out to the letter, you guys are really just going to do the most evil shit you can think of, aren’t you?”

  “Well, if that’s how you really feel, then do what you gotta do. I’ll do what I gotta do.”

  God raises an eyebrow, suspicious. He says, “What do you gotta do?”

  Wiping the blood off his knife, Cain goes, “Well, if you really feel like you gotta banish me, then I might feel like telling mom and dad what you did to their son.”

  “What are you talking about? You fucking killed him.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t eat him.”

  God’s at a loss for words. He’s thinking, “Touché,” but not saying it. Instead, he goes, “You fucking weasel.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but if I go out wandering the earth and people know what I did...”

  “People are gonna know what you did. What do you think, you’re just gonna show up for dinner and no one’s gonna ask where your brother is?”

  “No, I know I gotta get out of here. What I want is protection.”

  “Protection?”

  “Yeah. From all the people who are gonna try and kill me.”

  Okay, sidebar...

  We can assume at this point that Adam and Eve have had more kids, and the two eldest brothers have taken wives from among their sisters.

  I can hear you saying, “Hold up...doesn’t the Bible forbid incest?”

  And the answer is yeah, it does...just not yet.

  The law forbidding marriage between close relatives doesn’t come down until a while later when Moses is doing his thing, so for the moment, everyone’s free game. Think of the whole world (or at least the part where all this is happening) as one big, fat, incestuous orgy.

  God was like, “I’ll turn a blind eye for the moment, but the second there’s enough of you that you don’t have to do it any more, anyone caught doing it will be fucking stoned to death.”

  This might be one of the reasons they were so hardcore against homosexuality in the early days. Two guys couldn’t have any kids together, and unless these people were pumping out like ten, fifteen kids each, they were going to go extinct pretty fucking quick.

  But imagine being the guy in the middle of banging his sister when Moses reads out the commandments and suddenly he gets dragged out and pelted to death with rocks.

  I mean, talk about birth control.

  Now, there actually may be some science to back up why the human race didn’t just inbreed itself to extinction right about now. The theory goes that since we hadn’t accumulated all the genetic fuck-ups that result in deformities today (since God, the master craftsman, made us all perfect to begin with), it was totally fine to fool around with your family members, switch it up with your siblings, get kinky with your kinfolk, and of course, have relations with your relations.

  Quick biology lesson here: basically, if the genes that produce deformities are carried by both parents, they’re way more likely to manifest themselves in the kid. The more distantly-related the parents are, the better chance the kid’ll be healthy.

  So this was all good starting out. But by the time of Moses, you can imagine the birth defects starting to pile up and God like, “Nope, that’s it.” Then the poor guy banging his sister gets dragged out and fucking stoned to death.

  Also, you can imagine people were probably pretty psyched to get to bang someone they hadn’t known since birth. A bit of the old afternoon delight without their post-coital pillow talk involving a sentence like, “So, what are you getting mom for Mother’s Day?”

  Basically what this means is...at the time Cain kills his brother, every single person on earth is closely related to him. While Cain was the oldest, Abel wasn’t the youngest. Eve’s pumping out kids almost faster than Adam can pump them into her.

  And remember, people lived a lot longer back then. Adam’s going to be about 930 years old when he dies, just to give you an idea.

  So, if everyone’s either a parent or brother or sister or niece or nephew of Cain...when they hear that he killed Abel, they’re going to want him dead.

  Cain, not Abel.

  Abel’s already dead.

  And this is before laws or courts or any of that shit, so if someone gets murdered, the only way to get yourself a nice, steaming bowl of justice is to do it Liam Neeson style. And that’s exactly what Cain’s afraid of.

  And we’re back in...

  So God’s like, “Fine, fair enough. You don’t say anything to your parents, I’ll make sure no one kills you.”

  “How?”

  “With this.” And he takes out a red-hot branding iron, like something you’d use on livestock. But before Cain can say, “What the fuck?”, he jams the iron right into Cain’s forehead. The guy screams, smells his own flesh cooking and passes out.

  When he comes to, God’s gone and his head is fucking killing him. Cain goes home to get his wife-slash-sister and says, “Pack your shit, honey, we’re leaving.” And she’s looking at him like, “What the fuck is wrong with your face?”

  Since there’s no mirrors around, he goes over to a bucket of water and looks down at his reflection. There, in the centre of his forehead, seared into his flesh in huge, block letters is a single word.

  CUNT.

  It’s not the most subtle way of going about it, but Cain has to hand it to the big guy – no one wants to mess with a cunt.

  So he and his wife-slash-sister pack their shit and off they go. We’re assuming that he was married to his sister already. Either that or he just wandered around for a bit before bumping into one of his sisters or nieces or great-nieces or great-great nieces and immediately decided to mount her.

  Whatever happened, Cain eventually married and knew his wife.

  For anyone who isn’t clear, ‘knew’ is Bible-speak for ‘fucked’. He fucked his wife. Fucked his wife and had a son. Called him Enoch.

  What he did then was he built a city, and he called that city Enoch.

  Imaginative guy, right?

  Now, a city back then wasn’t anything like what it is today. Think more like a little fortified camp, maybe with a stone or mudbrick wall around it.

  That was like Times Square back in the day.

  Meanwhile, back home, Eve’s cooking dinner when God shows up unannounced, delivers the bad news.

  “Cain killed Abel and buried the body.”

  Eve breaks down crying and Adam’s pretty drunk, so he just kind of sits there, staring straight ahead.

  God says, “It’s not all bad. At least they’ll be remembered, y’know? First born, first to die. First murderer, first murder victim...”

  You know, everything a bereaved mother wants to hear.

  God’s attempt to see the silve
r lining doesn’t go down real well, but eventually, things settle. Eve wipes her eyes and pours herself a glass of wine. She asks God if he wants to stay for dinner.

  God says, “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

  GENESIS 5

  Adam’s F***ed Up Family Tree

  Adam and Eve are all alone.

  Second-born dead and first-born on the run for his murder. Needless to say, they’re proud as punch.

  All their other kids have gone off to raise families elsewhere, and like every couple with an empty nest, shit’s starting to get awkward. They eat their breakfast in silence and then he goes off to till the field, while she sits there and does the loom or whatever.

  Eventually, they decide they can’t handle not being parents, so what do they do?

  They have another one. Call him Seth.

  Now, Adam’s 130 years old by this point, so picture the wrinkly bastard rolling onto his wife and just going at it like a jack-hammer. An old, rusty jack-hammer that has trouble keeping its chisel up and needs a bit of lubricating oil every now and then or else it becomes like drilling into a dusty sidewalk. Shit just locks up.

  Hey, his wife’s as old as he is and she’s not exactly thrilled about the prospect of flapping jowls and saggy balls.

  But also, these guys are, like, borderline immortal – Adam’s going to live another 800 years after this kid’s born – so maybe they stay in their prime for longer, I don’t know. I don’t know if we’re playing by Highlander rules here or Lord of the Rings or what.

  All we can say for sure is Seth doesn’t have such a great childhood. He’s basically a replacement for Abel, and his dad never lets him forget it. Stumbling home from the tavern at three o’clock in the morning, he tells Seth he’s not Abel, he’ll never be Abel.

  And Seth isn’t Abel.

  He isn’t able to do much of anything.

  It’s like getting a new vacuum and being like, “Nope. Not as good as the old one.” So like that, if the vacuum had feelings and could understand what you were saying.

  But against all odds, Seth doesn’t end up a paedophile or a serial killer or anything like that. He pulls himself up by his bootstraps and even manages to churn out a kid.

  Now, there’s no mention of a wife here so we have to assume that he just kind of reproduces asexually – you know, like how an amputated starfish arm grows into a whole new starfish. Either that or the wife just isn’t named. I happen to think the former’s more convincing, though, don’t you?

  On the other hand, if he does have a wife, it might be the same one Abel was married to. Or she might just be another sister that he picked out of a line-up.

  Whatever happened, the kid’s name is Enos. No, not Enoch – that’s his cousin’s name. This is Enos – totally different.

  However, there is another Enoch a little further down the line – Enos has a son called Kenan, who has a son called Mahalalel (try saying that five times fast), who has a son called Jared (I know, right?), and he’s the guy who has Enoch.

  Just given what we’ve seen so far, I’m thinking that in the Bible universe, there must be like five or six names total and everyone has to fight each other to the death for them.

  The winner gets Enoch. The guys who lose but don’t die end up with Jared.

  I don’t know about you, but I’m picturing about a dozen toddlers in a pint-sized Colosseum, all armed with rocks and sharp sticks. The parents are off to the side, cheering for their kid – yelling inappropriate shit and getting into fights with other parents. Generally making a fool of themselves. You know, the usual stuff you see at kids’ sporting events.

  Anyway, remember how I said that Adam lived until he was 930? That’s around about the same figure all these guys hit before they drop dead.

  All except Enoch.

  He hits 365 and he’s out of there.

  So why does Enoch get the short end of the stick?

  Well, maybe he doesn’t.

  Him and God are taking long walks together, shooting the shit while everyone else is talking shit behind his back. They’re jealous, yeah? Wouldn’t you be if one of your folks gets to stroll around with the Almighty all day while you have to go out hunting, tending fields?

  Damn right, you would.

  Enoch sticks out like a sore thumb while everyone else is drinking, fighting, fucking – generally living in sin.

  He’s got a special relationship with the big guy and it isn’t long before they start calling him names, implying him and God are getting awful close, if you know what I mean?

  Even Jared doesn’t get that much shit.

  But Enoch, bless his heart, just smiles at them and goes about his day – picking flowers for his BFF without a care in the world.

  Meanwhile, Jared’s fuming. He tells everyone else they’re gonna smoke that motherfucker – partly angry about Enoch’s status with the big guy, partly angry at his own dad for giving him such a terrible name. This is the one chance he’s got to get some status for himself, and all he has to do is kill his own son.

  He rationalises it by saying his dad did worse to him, calling him Jared.

  Really, what he should be doing is going after Mahalalel, but his dad’s a respected guy in the community, so that won’t do him any good. Maybe he could cut his throat in his sleep and blame it on Enoch? No, too risky. Let’s just go with Plan A. Make Jared a name people are proud to have.

  So he organises the ambush. Enoch’s coming back from his daily walk with God, and God’s got the freshly-picked flowers in his hair.

  They’re coming back towards the camp when the big guy smells something fishy. He tells Enoch to step back and everyone else to step out.

  Silence for a few seconds, then all the guys shuffle out from behind trees and under bushes. They’re sheepish, avoiding eye contact.

  God’s like, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Jared doesn’t answer, but Methuselah (Enoch’s son) says they’re all sick of the guy, they want him gone.

  God says, “You want him gone so bad, you got it.”

  And he takes Enoch up to heaven with him.

  All Jared and Methuselah and the others can do is stand around, looking at each other, like, “Shit...”

  Now they all have to live for another few centuries at least, working their fingers to the bone while Enoch lives it up in heaven, banging angels and binge-watching every season of Breaking Bad.

  Suddenly, 365 doesn’t seem like too bad a number, does it? He got to see the world, do his thing. Now he’s chilling in paradise with the big guy who, when he’s feeling cheeky, busts out the coke and gets a few angels in and they all have a great old time.

  Also, I should mention that Enoch didn’t actually die, which makes him one of only two people in the whole Bible who gets whisked up to heaven without having to get crucified, killed in battle or otherwise horrifically murdered first.

  The other one’s Elijah, but we’ll get to him later.

  *

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the family, Cain’s been busy. He had a kid who had a kid who had a kid and so forth. At the moment, he’s off in the woods and he’s supposed to be hunting.

  But instead, he’s jacking it.

  As you would.

  You’re out there hunting, you’re almost a thousand years old, you get tired. You can only stare impotently at the deer chewing grass right in front of you for so long. You want to jab your spear into the thing’s ribcage, but you don’t have the strength.

  You can’t believe the nerve of this deer – eating grass right in front of you like it knows you can’t do shit.

  But you can do something.

  You can whip out your wrinkled, old penis and go to town on yourself. The deer can stand there and watch or run away in disgust.

  Either way, you win.

  The deer doesn’t leave. It just stands there, chewing grass for a moment before it realises what you’re doing.

  It stares at you and you stare at it. Deep int
o its eyes.

  Fist pumping a mile a minute and you swear the deer arches an eyebrow like, “Is this guy fucking serious?”

  The deer only breaks eye contact to look around, like it’s checking to see if any of its deer buddies are watching this, because there’s no fucking way they’re going to believe him later on.

  Finally, the thing goes limp in your hand because, well...you’re almost a thousand years old. It’s going to happen. Don’t feel bad. You could try to keep going – maybe you’ll get a second wind. But what are the odds of that happening?

  Instead, Cain throws in his earphones and pumps some Avenged Sevenfold. Sits there nodding his head to the beat, eyes closed.

  Not far off, his great-great-great grandson Lamech is out hunting with his son.

  Lamech’s son, not Cain’s.

  And unlike their ancestor engaging in borderline bestiality, they’re actually hunting.

  The kid’s name is Tubal-Cain because apparently these guys liked to confuse the shit out of each other at family reunions.

  Don’t believe me? The guy had two half-brothers called Jubal and Jabal.

  Now, Tubal-Cain’s basically ‘the man’ when it comes to anything metal. He’s a blacksmith by trade. Parents wanted him to be a doctor, he wanted to be a poet – in the end, they compromised on blacksmith and no one was happy. But he sure could beat the shit out of some iron.

  So Lamech and Tubal-Cain are out hunting, and as they come upon a deer grazing in the woods, they stop. Lamech lines up a shot and fires.

  But he’s old – not as old as Cain, but old nonetheless – and his eyesight’s getting worse, so the arrow misses. The deer bolts.

  “Fuck,” says Lamech, and they go over to find the arrow. Shit’s valuable, man – can’t just be wasting bronze-tipped arrows like they’re bullets in John Wick.

  They expect to find it on the ground, or in a tree. But when they get to the spot where the deer was, they find it stuck in something else entirely.

  An old man with the word ‘CUNT’ branded into his forehead. He’s slumped over, earphones blaring in his ears, arrow coming out his eye-hole. Wrinkled, old penis out and still erect in his wrinkled, old hand.

  Guess he did get a second wind, after all.