Word: Spondulicks

spondulicks

or spon·du·lix

noun Older Slang.

money; cash.

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The priests gathered around the elegantly inscribed circle.  Holy candles were lit, filling the air with the sweet scent of incense.  Each of the men held a copy of the Bible opened to different passages.

               “And now, to those gathered here, we embark on a holy mission.” The head of the group, Cardinal Andrews, said.  “For now we prove beyond all doubt that our God is real, and he is truly the almighty.  With this, our greatest ritual, we shall show the doubters, the nonbelievers, and the heretics the true, proper path to salvation.”

               A chorus of “amen” filled the air.  Each priest began chanting the appropriate passages in their books.  The candles flared high, their scent permeating the air with the pungent aroma.  After almost five minutes, the chanting slowed to a stop.  Once the voices ended, everything was silent.  It was a heavy, cloying silence that went far beyond a lack of sound.

               And then it happened.  The circle began glowing, then shining, and the light became so bright the priests had to look away.  When it stopped, the circle was occupied. 

               The man was twice as tall as a normal man, with golden skin and a form that spoke of wealth and prestige.  His clothes were fine silk, he bore several bulging leather bags at his waist, and his hands were adorned with precious gems.

               “Who summons me?” The deity said.  His voice was heavy and powerful, and filled the room like the sound of a gong, even though he had not spoken particularly loudly.    

               “You…you are the one true God?  The Father of Christ?” Cardinal Andrew asked hesitantly.

               The god furrowed his brow.  “No, I’m not him.  Is that who you wanted?  Really?  That insufferable, upstart?”

               The priests looked around at each other.  They shuffled nervously.  Somehow they had summoned a pagan god.  And they all feared for their immortal souls.

               “You aren’t the one true God then?” Andrews asked nervously.

               “One…you humans.  So foolish.  There is no one true god.  It’s only who you choose to follow that matters.  You guys belong to that newcomer Yahweh.  Or is if Jehovah?  I can never remember.  Well, anyway, I can see you all worship him.  Well, you worship both of us, but he’s the one you think about.  So, why’d you summon me instead of him?”

               “We…we thought we did.”

               “Hm… let me see.”

               The golden god bent to examine the summoning circle.  His golden eyes scanned the white lines critically. 

               “Ah, here’s the problem.  You didn’t specify which god you wanted.  You just asked for the most powerful, and most worshipped one.  The upstart is pretty high up there, but he’s not at the top.  If you wanted him, you need to be more specific.”

               “Oh.  Uh, can…can you help?”

               “I could.  But it’ll cost you.  I don’t work for free.  Hell, if you weren’t so dedicated to me, I wouldn’t have told you as much as I did.”

               “Uh…we…we’re Catholics.  We worship the God of Christ.”

               “Uh huh.  You keep telling yourself that.”

               One of the other priests spoke, asking the question all were thinking.  “What god are you, sir?”

               The god smiled.  “Me?  I’m the top god.  I am he who all worship.  I am that which makes nations and topples empires.  I am coveted by all.  Those who don’t have me, want me, and those who do have me, want more.  I am all, I am everywhere.  I am the single greatest force in this world.”

               “L-Love?” One of the priests said hopefully.

               “No, you fool.  Money.  I am the god of money.  Cash, coin, greenbacks, dollars, cents, euros, pounds, yen, won, whatever you want to call me.  As long as it’s money, it’s me.  Every time you use money, you’re sending a prayer to me.  Every transaction, every donation, every paycheck.  Everything that uses money is mine.”

               “But…but…” Andrews said. 

               “I mean, come on, do you think the Vatican was built with whishes and good intentions?  Do you think the builders worked for free?  No.  I fund your little church.  I make it possible for you to do what you do.  You honor me just as much as you do Yahweh, if not more.  Don’t try and deny it.  You all know it’s true.  Hell, I can tell what each of you are worth, and let me tell you, you guys are living large.  And it’s all thanks to me, not the upstart that you pretend to worship.”

               “But in the Bible…the moneylenders…and the bankers…and…”

               “And when has the Bible ever mattered to you?  Trust me, every time you take collections, every time you donate to anyone, it all lines my pockets, so to speak.  The only one who do more in my name are the big corporations.  I love those things.  I mean, an entire economic system dedicated to me.  It’s beautiful.”

“But…we wanted…”

“I know what you wanted.  But you got me.  My advice is to make the most of it.  Capitalize.  Use my presence here to fill your bank accounts as much as possible.  I won’t be on this plane of existence forever, so you might as well get in good while I’m here.”

The priests looked at each other, now with very different looks on their faces.  Only Cardinal Andrews still looked fearful.  When someone spoke, it was the priest who had asked the god for his identity.

“What should we do?”

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 In this day and age, money isn't just the root of all evil.  It's the root of everything.