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167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
38
"It
certainly
is,
Uncle,"
Barrent
said.
"Would
you
like
a
little
more
wine?"
"Just
the
tiniest
drop,"
the
priest
said.
He
talked
to
Barrent
for
another
ten
minutes
about
the
natural
and
charming
Evil
inherent
in
the
beasts
of
the
field
and
forest,
and
counseled
Barrent
to
pattern
his
behavior
on
those
simple-minded
creatures.
At
last
he
rose
to
leave.
"I'm
very
glad
we
could
have
this
little
chat,"
the
priest
said,
warmly
shaking
Barrent's
hand.
"Can
I
count
on
your
appearance
at
our
Monday
night
services?"
"Services?"
"Of
course,"
Uncle
Ingemar
said.
"Every
Monday
night--at
midnight--we
hold
Black
Mass
at
the
Wee
Coven
on
Kirkwood
Drive.
After
services,
the
Ladies
Auxiliary
usually
puts
out
a
snack,
and
we
have
community
dancing
and
choir
singing.
It's
all
very
jolly."
He
smiled
broadly.
"You
see,
the
worship
of
evil
can
be
fun."
"I'm
sure
it
can,"
Barrent
said.
"I'll
be
there,
Uncle."
He
showed
the
priest
to
the
door.
After
locking
up,
he
thought
carefully
about
what
Uncle
Ingemar
had
said.
No
doubt
about
it,
attendance
at
services
was
necessary.
Compulsory,
in
fact.
He
just
hoped
that
the
Black
Mass
wouldn't
be
as
infernally
dull
as
Ingemar's
exposition
of
Evil.
That
was
Friday.
Barrent
was
kept
busy
over
the
next
two
days.
He
received
a
shipment
of
homeopathic
herbs
and
roots
from
his
agent
in
the
Bloodpit
district.
It
took
the
better
part
of
a
day
to
sort
and
classify
them,
and
another
day
to
store
them
in
the
proper
jars.
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