A long time ago, on a continent far, far away . . .

There once thrived two great tribes in Gaul, on the banks of the Shapuzapurz river. They had both lived and flourished in the region for thousands of generations, since before recorded history. Each tribe bitterly hated the other, though. This would not have been a problem except for this one fact; there was only one city to share between the two. Every few weeks, one tribe would capture the city in a horrendous bloodbath, slaughtering the enemies they could get their hands on. The only reason they had managed to avoid mutual destruction was their truly prodigal skill at reproduction.

One tribe, the Aburbes, would flee out of the city to the woods each time was conquered. This tribe was watched over by Mercury, the god of travel, who ensured that their cowardly retreat left no tracks, and parted the forests before them so they could find themselves a place to build their home-in-exile while they massed for a retaliatory attack. Mercury also ensured that the Aburbes were successful in mercantile affairs so that they never lacked money for food.

The other tribe, the Suburbes, always retreated below the city into the sewers each time it was captured by the Aburbes. The patron god of this tribe was Pluto, god of the underground. He gave to them knowledge of the underground passages and how to cook sewer rats.

There existed at this time a great general, Julius Flavius Smith. He was renowned far and wide as a great keeper of the peace. No province under his control had ever been known to rebel. So it was that he was sent to the city on the Shapuzapurz river to create peace. When he arrived the Suburbes had just ousted the Aburbes from the city, and had them on the run. Julius attempted to obtain a hearing with the ruler of Suburbes , but was refused with the message that he must first defeat the dread Nemean Cow. He wrestled with the great beast for twenty days and twenty nights, until finally Juno, whose favor he had won in his travels by accidentally running over one of Jupiter’s sea-nymph friends with his ship, told him simply to push the Cow from the side. Julius took the advice of the august Goddess, and in a moment the Nemean Cow was on its side, defeated. On his way back, Julius met at least three different veterans of the Trojan War, each with a long story to tell. Fortunately, the knowledge of the fascinating tales has been lost to the mists of time.

Julius returned triumphantly to the city, and entered into his hearing with the Suburbean ruler. After many long hours, Julius’ silver tongue won out, and he convince the king to convene peace talks with the Aburbes. His next task, of course, was to convince the Aburbes to come to the talks. He went to the king of the Aburbes, and again was refused. He went through a similar trial, but I’ll spare you the details.

A week later, both tribes met in the center of the city. The Aburbes had brought their entire tribe into the city because they feared that the Suburbes would attempt to trap their leaders. At long last, the two leaders met in the central square of the city, to commence the first peace talks between the tribes for a thousand generations.
By that time, however, general Julius Flavius Smith’s reinforcements had arrived, so he surrounded the city. It was leveled to the ground and both tribes were utterly wiped out. Within days, laborers were rebuilding the city to Roman architectural standards so that the wealthy aristocrats would feel comfortable in the summer homes there. For lack of a better name, Julius labeled this city on his maps as “Aburbe-Suburbe.”

Back to Reports

Copyright 1999© Priscilla Kotyk All Rights Reserved