Petry Fables - Episode 1: Meet the Petrys

Everyone’s heard of the Petrys. You may think you haven’t. You might entertain the thought that theories of familial thematic excellence propagated popularly are pre-Petry.

They’re not.

You know those Vikings that showed up in North America 500 years before Columbus?

Petry.

The Mongolian horde that laid the epic smackdown on pretty much every European army and kicked down the gates of Rome just to shake the Pope’s hand before gallivanting away from the metaphorical sunset?

Petry.

Hercules?

Samson?

Han Solo?

Chuck Norris?

All Petry.

The Black Knight from Monty Python?

Double Petry.

You may still entertain a few near-blasphemous skepticisms, and even though they’re not understandable, redeemable, forgivable, tractable, or phantasmagorical in any sense – I’ll ignore them. For now.

There are six Petrys primarily. Others exist, and possess equally epic traits, but the core of the Petry mythos lies in five essential personas. They’ve gone by many names, of course, so for the purposes of this highly official fable I’ll have to construct names that are entirely incidental collections of phonetic chaos. I doubt you’ll be able to pronounce them…

Ray, Empress Divine. Who shoots sunbeams from her eyes and lightning from her fingertips. Time and space are the putty of her potter’s wheel. The wool of her warp and woof. The meme of her mime and metaphor.

Stefon Redbeard, the Muscle. He bench presses tectonic plates. Runs the lightyear last year. And crushes littered pop cans with a single bound.

The Ninja. I used to know his name. Then he killed me. Thrice. I haven’t tried to remember it…

Hope Eternal, Warrior Benefactress. Imagine Mother Theresa and Joan of Arc combined. She is the fearsome conglomerate of all things kind and dangerous. She crosses the road, and gives it a bandage afterwards.

Danger, the Brain. He was using the Pythagorean theorem when he was still in the womb. He invented the wheel AND sliced cheese.

Joshimika, the Sidekick. Who will kick any side! Your good side. Your bad side. Your underside. He will kick it with his fearsome, patent-pending, Kick of Penultimate Doom.

I understand that it’s a lot to take in. The revelation of Petry awesomeness always is. My hope is that with some candid realism, a bit of prayer and fasting, and the tender mercies of God Almighty upon your sadly deficient soul, you’ll realize the world is a better place shuddering under the weight of their collective magnificence.

That or we’re all doomed…

One of the two.

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