The Voice of the Prophet

The Voice of the Prophet

And the King trembled in his seemingly impenetrable Castle Dough-
Menoe, made of petrified dough. He had once been a pauper himself,
you see, and he knew of the indomitable spirit of Everyman.

King Dough-Menoe's fear was great, so he summoned the tyrant
Bad Odor, from the Arbor of Ann, to do his odious work.

"Stifle the malcontents!" BO was ordered.
"There can be no compromise!"

And since BO's rage was legendary, from his previous incarnation
as a martial teacher of our children, the King slept soundly, assured
that his abuse of Tradition, in the name of greed, would remain
unchallenged.

And the King dreamt that his complete dismantling of the house of
Ty Cobb would soon be reality. And he smiled in his sleep.

For Bad Odor was strong - He knew that before he could execute
his master's command, and destroy Tigris Detroitus, first he must
silence the Prophet.

So on a cool mid-October day, BO dispatched his loathsome
Hench-Men, part of his elite palace guard, to deliver Prophet
Harwell, the Voice of Tigris Detroitus, before him.

And in his usual gruff manner, Bad Odor sentenced the Prophet's
Voice to death. His reason? Simply that Prophet Harwell was far
too popular, for he had been preaching the true gospel for lo these
many years, and he was far too wise, and thus could not be controlled.

Off with his microphone!

And the people cried and mourned for what once was...

Prophet Harwell's head disciple, prophet Kay-Rey, made his displeasure
known by voluntarily turning off his own microphone, beating the
accountants to the punch, and thereby ruining Bad Odor's day.

Televangelists Ke-Ell and Kay-Line tried to defend their leader, Prophet
Harwell, but they were afraid for their own survival in those turbulent
times, so their public protestations were understandably muted.

(So there stood Tigris Detroitus, one foot mired in the abyss of
abandonment, the other perilously dangling over the dark
precipice of radio silence.

For, even though the tyrant BO had promised them a new Voice
or two, the habitants knew that these new false prophets would only
be more of King Dough-Menoe's dreaded Yes-Men, cloned sons of
mass production, freshly plucked from the King's hall of shame)

Hall of Famer Ernie Harwell