Defecatory Daydreams of the Demigods

I always wondered what God-Kings (Pharoahs, Emperors, etc.) thought when they shit. Did the base animal nature of that act impose any humility on their pretensions of divine parentage?

This is just the ‘semi’ part of semi-divine.

I’m putting the ‘demi’ back in demigod and I’m putting it back demi good!

You know, I really do produce some God-like turds–maybe those crazy priests are right about me. Or is it just the candied gold dust I’ve been eating lately?

It’s funny–eating gold dust makes them glitter and shine but it still smells. Smells great!

The fact that only my shit smells good proves I’m part god.

Do I have to kill anyone who sees me doing this, or just anyone who talks about seeing me do this, that is the question… Ah, the difficult decisions forced upon a Sun-King!

Where are my expensive imported fecophiles to help clean up?

Obviously, as a demigod I could just zip ahead into the future and steal a couple rolls of toilet paper and come back here to ancient Babylon, but I wouldn’t want to risk bumping my head and passing out in the future with an uncleaned ass. Me, a demigod, just laying there!.. So–given the unreliable nature of fecophiles–HELLO!–I’m stuck with the old sponge on a stick kept in a separate bucket of very salty water, just like the rest of the Babylonians.*

Still, it’s much better than the smooth-edged pottery shards my human ancestors had to use before they hooked up with the gods and a wagonload of weapons.

Apparently not.

*Factual note:  this was a Roman practice, not Babylonian. Get your shit straight.

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