More mythology from Sects. The center of the city where they live is something close to civilized still – they worship a creature that values order, and managed to trade their city chamber members for cult clergy without much of an interruption in municipal services. Their god is currently incarnated in the form of a giant pie, about six feet across, evidently fresh from the oven apart from a slice missing. From this slice it issues steam and occasionally commands. Those who do not obey the Pie’s commands have a tendency to topple in, wearing terminal looks of surprise. They don’t come back out.
This city has the very cleanest streets,
at least as long as you stay near downtown –
you know, the part where nobody’s brown? –
where they bend the knee to The Pie That Eats.
This world is kind for those who serve the Pie.
You’d almost think nothing had changed at all.
Rich men were able to cushion their fall –
volunteered us when someone had to die.
But not all of the Pie’s flavors are sweet.
They say there’s a slice taken out of the pie,
and sometimes inside you might glimpse an eye,
and sometimes you fall into The Pie That Eats.
In the gnashing seconds before you die,
you realize that the pie is filled with meat.