Sherlock and Watson. Batman and Robin. Cheese and Ham. Euan and Paul Their story is almost impossible to tell, but I, Daniel "Bob" Taylor, will try. Many have tried to pen this epic biography, many have failed. Using my unique insight into their passage through history, I hereby present the second excerpt from my upcoming tome "Euan and Paul: Love and Hate". If you hark back to chapter 5, we last left the seemingly immortal duo in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. Here we will venture slightly farther back in time to an event not unlike the big bang - The meeting of Euan and Paul.
Taken from Chapter 1 - Two Become One
Saqquara, Ancient Egypt, 132 BC
Paul cracked the whip, the leather snapping wickedly in the unbearable desert sun. I stared on, helpless. I daren't disapprove of what I saw here, but I was The Pharaoh's right hand man. I had to say something.
"Paul" I called quietly "May I have a word?"
He rounded on me, his eyes glinting with an immortal fire, his golden headwear reflecting his glorious rage. He was stinking drunk on power, and it was my duty to sober him up.
"What!?" he sneered. I took a breath, and whispered, so the guards couldn't hear our disagreement.
"Pharaoh, you are needlessly mistreating the slaves. Will this really make them work harder?"
He looked at me, and tilted his head quizzically. Dripping with contempt and sarcasm, he asked,
"Remind me Daniel, who's Pharaoh? I might be wrong, but I could have sworn to the gods that it was me. But that couldn't be right, could it?"
I bowed my head, sighing.
"I'm sorry Pharaoh". I bit my tongue. Trouble was going to come of this, but I had tried.
That trouble came in the form of a slave, but a slave like no other. As he steadily and purposefully climbed the many stairs to Pharaoh Pauls throne, I sensed danger. It was like the sun rising, a great light shining down and dispelling the shadows of Paul's existence. Somewhere a crow called thrice, and the ground cracked. The slave finally reached Pharaoh's throne room, and stood tall. He wasn't a remarkable man, but carried himself with the presence of a giant, as if he was sent here by a higher power. As the world turned, and Pharaoh's gaze met this slave's piercing eyes, there was silence. Time stopped, as if the cosmos itself was holding its breath. He spoke.
"Pharaoh, I come to represent the slaves, and all that is good in the world. I have an ultimatum for you, and all the evil of the world that you represent. My name, is Euan"
Lightning flashed in the distance, despite it being a bright sunny day. It was as if at this moment, time itself knew that it was about to be written in stone. Yin and yang, good and evil, dark and light, had met at last. The unstoppable force was staring at the unmovable object, and Paul was speechless.
Myself and the guards were on the edge of our stone seats. The Pharaoh was wearing a look on his face that we had never seen. It seemed like...fear. No not fear, more like a dawning realization, like a man finding his reflection. He found his voice.
"Pray tell, slave Euan", he spoke "What is your ultimatum?"
Euan drew breath as a messiah would summon the power of the heavens. and pointed his finger at Pharaoh, like a lightning bolt of justice. His voice boomed across the land, shaking birds from the trees.
"PHARAOH!" he roared, pausing for dramatic effect, "LET MY PEOPLE GO!"
We looked back at Paul, awaiting his response with bated breath. No-one spoke like that to the Pharaoh.
He was smiling. He stood, without a word, and stared inexplicably at the sky. He started mumbling a series of words none of us understood, and before our eyes he transformed, growing many feet above us. As we stood back in terror, Euan nodded, as if resigned to this, and muttered his own spell. They both grew at a tremendous rate, until they were towering over the work camp, like fabled monsters, giant versions of themselves. They dwarfed the unfinished pyramid, the desert cracking beneath their feet, their footsteps shaking the continents. We were like ants to them. As Euan bowed to Paul in preparation of the battle, high above us, the Pharaoh lowered himself into a battle crouch, screaming fire. They clashed, and the world shook.
* * *
I looked around, at the smoking craters of what had once been the flat Egyptian desert. There was no living being, no living thing, for miles around. They had shifted continents. I walked through the broken landscape, until I came upon two figures, close together, huddled in a gigantic crater. The moon could have sat comfortably inside. In the hours it took me to make my way down to the bottom, I sensed I was nearing the centre of the earth itself. Maybe I was. As I finally stood before the two, I realised that it was Euan and Paul themselves, returned to their normal form. Covered in the grime and stench of a two man near-apocalypse, they were nestled in each others arms. I stared, dumbfounded. Paul blinked his eyes open, looking over at Euan, exhausted. Euan peered back at him.
"I have a strange feeling that we are destined to do this forever, you and I" Paul spoke. He was no Pharaoh anymore. Euan nodded slowly, relieved.
"Friends?" he asked tentatively. Paul nodded, a rare genuine smile breaking across his face.
"Friends"
To do the moment justice, I silently started masturbating. It seemed like the right thing to do.
So the twin towers? What a bummer aye? (political)
biggest terrorist attack in recent American history (at least their tubes were still running. 7/7, now that was a real terrorist attack.) Euan was at home provoking the Muslims by repainting beautiful Christian artwork. I really don't know why he would do that. He was just asking for it, wasn't he? If it wasn't for him, the twelve people who died in 11/9 would still be here.
