A #Barcon Proverb
The Hierophant of Barcon sat down with a rather fetching maiden and began telling stories of the Nobles of Barcon. When he got to talking about the Heretic of Barcon, he was reminded of what the Heretic did the night he was Ennobled.
You see, there was no Psychopomp at this Barcon, and so no one to accompany the unready on their journey. The Hierophant had do this this role, but he was distracted. And so the Heretic continued to drink, and drink, and drink, until he was “far beyond his means,” as some would say.
His companions urged him to bed, to rest, to let one night’s Barcon end so that the day could begin fresh. But yet he stayed, for who was he if not the Heretic? The rules of others were of nothing to him. Finally, his companions beseeched the Hierophant to do something about it, and so he lead the Heretic into the elevator with promises of more drinking. Once in the elevator, the Hierophant quickly ducked out, leaving the Heretic in the company of his companions up to the safety of their hotel room.
That next “morning,” the Hierophant saw the Heretic emerge, far worse for wear. Words of respect for one’s limitations and guile were exchanged, and the Hierophant reminded the Heretic that while he was newly Ennobled, all Nobles are still mortal.
As he was recounting this tale to this lovely maiden — one who I might add has foolishly boasted her ability to drink the Hierophant under the table — he was struck with a simple way to remind others of the perils of “too much Barcon”:
Barcon is meant to be the bosom companion to the true convention. But beware; like any ample bosom, too much can smoother and suffocate.
Perhaps this proverb would be different if he were looking at the maiden’s eyes at the time.
- Mack
