- Professor Peanut Weaselgadget and the Proposition of Snyde – Part I
- Professor Peanut Weaselgadget and the Proposition of Snyde – Part II
“Tag! You’re it!” Nicolletta teased before scrambling away.
Professor Peanut Weaselgadget, far from amused, removed his spectacles, smoothed his fur, and tended to a particularly unruly whisker. Though a complete mess, his dim laboratory held the mark of a creature that possessed a great capacity for organization, but applied none. A vast array of chemicals, solutions, and precipitates created a foul stench resembling dirty laundry and formaldehyde. Still, it was his mess dark and uninviting as it may be.
Presently, Nicolletta sat under a table and stared at him with enormous brown eyes.
The professor, having formulated precisely what he was going to say to the delinquent, began with the utmost of eloquence.
“Stop it you impetuous bovine! Your mother has insisted that I allow you to stay here. But…” the weasel caught himself as this was no way to talk to a child.
“…just…please mind yourself.” He said much more calmly.
“Betcha can’t catch me!” Nicolletta spoke unperturbed.
“And besides,” She continued, “if I tell my mother that you wouldn’t let me help then she’ll tell my dad!” Her bristly hair stood on end around her pink snout raised in defiance.
The threat was real enough. Mr. Truffletrounce was not a kind pig, and his daughter had been terribly spoiled. Despite the toll of efficiency Nicolletta’s presence took on his work, the Professor was forced to acquiesce.
“Fine. I am currently in need of an assistant for this next experiment.”
Nicolletta twirled around the room feigning disinterest.
“Please do be careful!” The weasel blurted.
“Very well. I suppose I’ll help,” she said, sensing that she had driven the professor to an acceptable level of annoyance.
“Wonderful,” said the professor, relieved. He picked up a small flask and poured a strange smoky chemical into it.
“Here. Hold this. What we are about to…”
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
The door to the cozy laboratory threatened to come off it’s hinges. The weasel gently set the smoky chemical back on the table before turning to Nicolletta.
“Hide!” He whispered.
A large shadow stood beyond the frosted panes.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He said loudly. “Calm down, for crying out loud,” he said to himself. No sooner had he turned the latch than the door flew open knocking him to the ground. He missed a table by a few inches.
A blast of frozen air swept through the cottage laboratory. The scattered oil lamps hung from the low rafters went dim and threatened to go out. A cold tone followed.
“I’m sorry.” The sly voice came through. “Was I…interrupting?”
The red haired fox looked down at the scrawny weasel with disappointment.
“Experimenting with the floor professor?”
“No Mr. Snyde. Not at all. Do come in? Please close the door.” The Professor got up.
The fox did as he was instructed. He hung his over-sized coat on a nearby rack ignoring the small pile of snow that accumulated beneath it. He paused before sniffing the air as though he were guessing the spices of a stew.
“Babysitting are we, Professor?”
“Nicolletta is here as my assistant,” he said, as the small piglet crept from behind a haphazard stack of books.
“Still letting Mr. Truffletrounce push you around I see? Very well. I’m sure you’ll do me the same honor then? I have a job for you Professor, and if I were you, I’d take it.”
“Yes. It might conflict with your….traditions some, but I’m sure the pay will ease your conscience.”
“Mr. Snyde, I must I very much don’t like the sound of that.”
“Then I suggest you don’t ask any more questions. A simple yes will suffice.” The fox hissed.
“But I don’t even know what you’re proposing?”
“I need a poison professor Weaselgadget. Nothing serious. Just a simple poison,” said the fox with ominous detachment. He stretched the claws on one of his lean arms and inspected them with his fiery orange eyes.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I shall invite the piglet over for dinner.” He grinned.
Heroes are easy to spot. They’re the charging clever that’s overcoming the impossible somehow.
Take our friend professor Weaselgadget for example. I don’t think anyone is going to think for even a moment that he’s going to let some sly fox eat an innocent child.
But are his convictions worth more than her life?
This is the game of the antagonist. Get the hero thinking that the presented choice is the only choice. Convince them away from what they know, and sell them a twisted reality.
It’s just a game.
It’s just once/one/this time.
Something worse will happen if you don’t.
Is that what you were told? Lies. I’m telling the truth….
If the bad guy can sell it, he wins.
But the hero knows better. His perspective doesn’t shift to the seductive notion of the antagonist. The stability of his reality enables him to conquer.
But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”
It was a dark and stormy night. Simon Peter had said ‘yes’ to Jesus and was walking on water.
But the antagonist sold him a convincing argument.
It’s rainy out here.
Did He really say you can do this? You can’t walk on water…
Look at the size of that wave…
So down he goes. Distracted to death.
Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
Why did you buy into the argument of the waves Peter?
What was it about the wind that seemed so much more right?
Jesus wasn’t sinking. His peace was dependent on heaven, and no conflict of earth was about to convince him that His Father was a liar.
He was free to reject the false-realities of Satan in the desert, the Sanhedrin in the temple, or the finality of our sin on the cross.
Now to deal with that fox…
RESPOND: What waves are threatening your peace? What do you need to remember? Use the comments to remind yourself, and bolster the faith of others!