There Are Goddesses in Arkansas and Their Temple is the Local Combination KFC/Taco Bell

Kneel before the altar of the saucy bitches; bring forth your offerings of various condiments: tangy BBQ, sweet hoisin, fiery hot sauces, and whatever else can be used to adorn and accentuate the morsels that pass their lips. To curry special favor, bring those most precious sachets of capsaicin-induced bliss: the Diablo sauce from Taco Bell. If you are successful in your petitioning, you may be lucky enough to observe them doing what goddesses do best: making magic and blessing those around them.

You may witness how they unravel the mysteries of our corporeal forms fueled by Fiesta Potatoes and Chipotle Chicken Melts. Observe how they draw misshapen lumps of feet and are still able to understand the intricacies of this mass of biological sticks and rubber bands. Gather round as they extol the virtues of that sweet, sweet bitch (the liver) and warn against those that would harm the salty bitch (the kidney).

Or you may be invited to join in their revelry, taking a sip of Baja Blast every time Shah Rukh Khan spreads his arms wide in a fit of musical romantic passion and dancing whenever and wherever they’d like with abandon. They may teach you to discern the dark nectar (Coke) from the dark poison (Pepsi). Learn this lesson well so that you, too, may lead a more blessed existence.

And if you catch them at exactly the right time of early morning, you may be able to hear the faint echoes of them returning to their abode and bestowing good wishes on their most faithful supplicant (“Goodniiiiight, Rahimyyyyy”) ... or you may behold them as they take turns shouldering each other’s burdens, shifting the heavy mantle of goddesshood between them to let each other have a human minute. Their tears may fall, but do not mistake this for weakness; their weeping is a mercy. They know the world would crack under their feet if they remained at full goddess strength perennially, and they are too fond of the Taco Bells of the world to invite that apocalypse.

If these goddesses come to you, whether in a vision or embodied, fall to your knees, open your arms, and share whatever spicy foods you may have on your person. Welcome the opportunity to give to them as they have given unto you. Their beneficence ensures that whatever you supply, they will return manifold. Kneel before the altar and observe how the sisterhood of goddesses is as many-layered as their ambrosia, the Crunchwrap Supreme.

And don’t forget the large order of KFC fries.