Thanks Civman and ChrisiusMaximus. It's good to know my story hasn't been totally forgotten in the dusty halls of past apolyton literary works.
On with the story shall we?
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Obviously not caring that Neb had just gone storming out of the massage and health drink parlor on account of his comments, Enlil indulged himself by flopping down on the marble slab. The other members kept up a steady chatter with frequent outbursts of laughter. The rumor machine was already in full gear: the king drank clay!
Several more exhausted, beet-red members came in and were overwhelmed with everyone trying to tell them the news at the same time. The bartender called out to a server over the rancor, "One spinach smoothie with double bull gland extract and the frog skin held!"
With a smirk, Enlil eyed one of the massage experts who was clad in a skimpy amazon design bikini and looked like she did aerobics at least 4 hours a day. "Hello! What's your name?"
The young woman looked at Enlil lying on the slab in his worn out scribe's robes and his long grey beard stretched the length of him. She gave him a rather unhappy glance and said, "Tasha."
"Tasha, you know I really wouldn't mind a massage myself." Enlil sighed deeply in anticipation.
Tasha's expression became even more sour than the fresh black olive and lemon juice super combo a patron was partaking in at the bar behind her. "Sorry gramps, but you just don't make the grade. This club only serves highly acclaimed athletes. You probably already exceeded your optimal workout heartrate just coming up the stairs here."
Enlil seemed only to be somewhat amused at the insulting rejection. He just continued to smirk while he reached for the unfinished mug of clay and milk Neb had left. He held it up and took a big gulp of the cementlike mixture.
Tasha looked nauseous. "By all the sons of Apsu! Why do you continue to drink the clay? Have you gone stone mad? Or did you lie to his royal highness?" One of her hands covered her impeccably painted mouth in shock. All the members of the club whirled around, eager for any scrap of information to fuel their gossip. All that is, except for the young jock who had just taken another swig of the black olive and lemon juice super combo and was desperately trying to hold back a river of tears while rocking back and forth on the bar stool in silent agony.
Enlil wiped his mouth on the back of the sleeve of his robe yet still grinned and answered, "Such is my nature as the master scribe of research. My insatiable curiosity will never let me rest. I must experience all around me with all my senses to learn about it. Now I wonder, what is it like to actually drink clay - a composite of the very terrain we walk on, totally unfit for human consumption yet Neb drank two litres of it everyday for a month. I long to find out what it will do to me. One gulp surely won't kill me. Would you care to try some?" Enlil looked back and forth over the room, his long and stringy hair, not having been combed or cut in several decades, waved in the air as he eagerly awaited one of the patrons to take up his offer.
A hush fell over the small crowd in the parlor. "Are you Enlil, the brilliant strategic advisor of 2 kings and genius inventor to whom our nation owes its very existence to? We have heard so much about you but never seen you in person. Surely you can't be him. Can you?" Tasha looked as shocked as ever but the sourness had changed to reverence, and all in the room forgot their petty gossip and paled at the revelation that they were in the presence of a legend.
Enlil replaced the mug on the small serving table beside the slab and stood up. "Well it's been nice chatting but I really must return to my work. Maybe I'll have that massage another time if you wouldn't mind m'lady?"
The room was quiet enough to hear a mouse breathing when Tasha responded, "Uh...okay. You're welcome here anytime Enlil."
