Ep: 11 Road Trip

Recap: Thoki has tricked his half-brother Jormungandr into downing a drinking gin until he passed out. Thoki wants Jormungandr to give him an Lor passage to Egypt to look for the "City of the Sun": supposedly the location of ISFAT, the course of all chaos. Thoki intends to use this chaos to rule the world. Lor intends to find out whether "The Swedish Chef" is real.

“Head more to the south, you’re veering too far east,” said Thoki.

“Freaking hate you, wiener,” grumbled Jormungandr.  

Thoki and Lor were seated along a long coil of Jormungandr’s snake form, just behind the head. Jorm was swimming in geriatric undulations and groaning every few yards. His serpent head, fearsome beyond all human imagining, had lost some of its hellfire. Dark circles surrounded the yellow eyes (which were now bloodshot and rather glassy) and his deadly breath, said to poison all who smelled it was even fouler than usual. Jormungandr was currently suffering from a Devine headache, of the sort that was usually caused by a cranial goddess crafting armor. The larger part of a bottle of Tanqueray and a thrashing about the head were to thank for that and Jorm had awoken from his gin-induced slumber to find himself captive in bonds made of heaviest-grade tow-cable.

That was when Thoki insisted that they be given transport to Alexandria… or else.

“I’d be tempted to drown you like a navy SEAL, you little bastard, if I wasn’t afraid of my head coming off,” Jormungandr mumbled through his metal bridle.

“Sorry I had to tie you up,” said Lor amiably.

“Nah, you’re alright, Lor. We should hang out sometime. In fact, we could hang out now, if you help me get rid of my stupid half-brother. Deal?” said the Serpent.

Lor debated this for a moment. “Could we come back for Thoki later?” asked Lor.

“Sure!” chuckled Jorm (and then winced through his hangover). “He might even still be alive if he’s a good swimmer.”

“No. I think we have some things to do first, Thoki and me.” Lor shook his head, which made Thoki sigh in relief. “Maybe afterwards.”

There was a pause before the World Serpent grasped at the last straw of hope. “Sure. If you guys can make it so that Fenrir doesn’t kill me, drinks are on me.”

“Don’t worry, Jorm,” said Thoki lightly. “I’ll tell Fenrir you were coerced.”

Jorm rolled his jaundiced eyes. “He’ll never believe me — I mean NEVER, EVER in a million years believe that you beat me up.”

“Thanks,” sniffed Thoki. “So what did Fenrir mean, the city of the sun?”

Jorm was carefully quiet and Thoki realized he was on his own this time.  “City of the Sun… The Egyptian God of the sun was Ra, right?” Thoki was being rhetorical, but to his surprise, Lor spoke up.

“Well there was Atum, Atum-Ra, Aten-Ra, Horus, The Mnevis Bull, and Khepri the dung beetle… to name a few,” said the Jotun

For a while there was no sound save the lapping of waves against the huge scaly flanks and Jormungandr’s mouth breathing through his bridle.

“Alrighty,” said Thoki eventually. “So we have a lot of options. Any one of the cities of Ancient Egypt dedicated to those guys could be our target.”

“Oh, simple as that then,” said Lor nodding.

“No, it’s not simple,” said Thoki in mounting frustration. “We’re talking several thousand years of clashing pantheons changing and growing overtime, each dynasty issuing its own rules and names. God knows what those cities are called now that the old gods are crushed under this new Mohammedan- religion-thing.”

“’S’not new. The Islamic faith was developed almost fourteen-hundred years ago, ass,” muttered Jorm through the thick cables.

“That’s new to me,” said Thoki with a shrug.

“So, city of Ra… city of Aten-Ra. Maybe even Akenatum… crap. I don’t know any cities like that. I always assumed it would be at one of the big places… like Memphis, or Luxor or Cairo,” said Thoki. He kneeded his forehead with his fist in frustration as he stared at the black, churning water. The wind was picking up, and Thoki put up his sweatshirt hood and shivered. “Jorm, do you know any Egyptian city that would have been the city of the sun?”

Jorm laughed so hard he nearly choked on the cables binding him. “I got no idea, pipsqueak. I’m a giant snake as long as the Australian coastline. I don’t really sit around all day studying Greek History.”

“What DO you do all day?” asked Thoki in annoyance.

“Watch TV. I got Netflix live-streaming on my PS3 and I have most of the cable channels. I also play Frontierville a lot. Are you on Facebook, Lor? I need some more gas lamps to build my Ponderosa Lodge.”

Lor shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t understand the Internet. I go “on the line” and it says I have mail, but when I check our P.O. box at the post office it’s always empty.”

“Nah, nah, dude! You’re supposed to click on the little picture of a letter,” said Jormungandr.

“I did that once, but all I got were some pictures… very confusing pictures,” said Lor with a dazed look.

“Really,” said Jorm in the voice of one hoping for elaboration. Lor wasn’t forthcoming, however.

“I don’t’ know… it’s all Greek to me,” sighed Lor.

“Greek,” said Thoki sitting up suddenly. “Just a moment ago, Jorm. You said you didn’t sit around watching Greek history, when I was clearly talking about Egypt!”

“Um… No I didn’t?” said Jormungandr without much hope.

“You totally did! You know where we’re supposed to be going, don’t you!”

“Um… Uh…. No I don’t?” moaned Jorm. If snakes could sweat, Jormungandr would have looked like “sketchy witness number two” from an episode of Law and Order.

“Egypt was taken over by Alexander the Great starting the Ptolemic Empire! It makes sense! So… Greek god of the sun… Apollo… no. ‘Apollopolis’ just sounds too dumb for me to forget it… no…”

“Helios?” suggested Lor.

Thoki snapped his fingers. “Heliopolis.”

“Oh, God, I’m dead,” moaned Jormungandr. His body began to tremble and his scales seemed duller and colder.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” demanded Thoki.

“I can’t tell you,” said Jorm.

“AREN’T I?” insisted Thoki.

Jormungandr gave a sad little nod.

“Yes!” said Thoki, giving his brother’s bridle a vindictive little jerk. “Who’s the wiener now, ‘foot-long’?”  

The serpent said nothing, but his lethargic pace slowed to nearly glacial speed as he edged closer to certain peril.