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Namuh Visits
a short story,
4,000 words
By Joe DiBuduo
Copyright 2013 Joe DiBuduo

Namuh Visits

The cloud covered sky hung low over the slaughterhouse in the northwest corner of Iowa,
and no one saw the light bubble as it touched down and almost immediately vanished. My first
ever visit to my Father’s world, and what a beautiful world it was.
I knew the slaughterhouses here in Storm Lake, mirrors what was happening in other
heartland towns in the U.S. From the Dakotas through Minnesota, Nebraska and Iowa, and down
through Kansas into northern Texas and the foothills of the Missouri Ozarks. The remainder of
the planet wasn’t much different in their methods of killing. I wasn’t here to sightsee, so I
ignored the beauty and I read the directional signs at the crossroads where I stood. One pointed
straight ahead and the printing on the arrow said, “IBP Slaughterhouse.” I double checked my
coordinates and found this was the correct abattoir.
***
“I'm here to apply for a job,” I told the receptionist, as I patted my long curly blue-black
hair into place on my head that was twice as big as most others I've seen so far on this world.
Shelia, of personnel looked me over and barked, “Do you speak English? Do you have
I.D?”
“Yes,” I said, and I pulled out a handful of identification papers and cards to show her.
“You only need a Social Security Card,” she said.
I handed it to her.

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She glanced at it and said, “okay, you're hired, but why do you have the same first and
last name Namuh, Namuh?”
“That's what my father named me.”
The mention of my father reminded me, it was entirely his fault that I was here on this
barbarous planet. If he wouldn't have created these humans in the first place, I wouldn't be here
now. When he first created them, he was so proud, he reversed our family name of Namuh to
make a name for these creatures. He thought this was so clever that every planet he created and
the life on it from then on he’d name them after one of his body parts spelled in reverse.
Childish, I know, but it gave him pleasure. But his creations here on Earth were acting totally
opposite of what my father had created them for.
Being the oldest son, I have to rectify the problem, and I'm inclined to deal harshly with
these disgusting creations of his. I had to leave my life behind to come here to fix what went
wrong.
Last week I appeared in front of the Galactic Security Council located on the small world
where all the planetary Gods meet to iron out their differences, called Nori. Of course, my father
named it that right after he created it.
A survey ship had recently returned with information on the distant planet that my clever
father had named Earth in honor of our home planet. It seemed once he started reversing names
he couldn't stop.
The Council only randomly checked the outer worlds, and sometimes it would be 10,000
or more years between checks. When Earth was surveyed, it was found humans were not only
eating their cousins as a food supply, but they were treating them in a very unacceptable manner.
When this horrendous behavior was described, they called a full meeting of the Galactic Gods
Peace commission. I was to be quizzed by the Security Council and then go to the commission
meeting soon after.
Once in front of the Security Council they lambasted me with many technical questions
about my father's creation.

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“You are aware that because your father named that planet, he is responsible for what
happens there?” a council member asked, and when he’s unavailable the responsibility falls to
the eldest son?”
“Yes sir,” I said.
“Didn't he create humans in his image?” “What went wrong?” “Where does the cruelty
come from?”
I didn’t know the answer, but I had to protect my father’s good name, so I said, “My
father had instilled nothing but our good qualities into the creations, and they somehow got
infected with evil. If the honorable council members recall that when my father created humans
it was disputed by ZZZIIPPIT, the god from the outer Nebular Cryostar System, who claimed my
father stole his idea, but the council ruled in my father's favor. It's possible he could have
sabotaged the humans and turned them into the cruel, uncaring beings that they are.”
They weren't satisfied with my answers, and I knew the Galactic Commission wasn't
going to be easily placated either. I went directly to their meeting once the council finished with
me, I looked around the great hall where, depending on what form they took today, the Gods
from all of the planets sat, laid, perched, or swam. I noticed all the translation machines were
silently scrolling the thoughts of the different Gods across large illuminated screens. This was to
ensure that none of the Gods could plant false information in another God's mind. But some of
the Gods still attempted it occasionally.
Tiers of seats surrounded a large indoor body of water where the Gods who refused to
take a mammalian form could comfortably attend the meetings. Members without legs, because
it was sometimes hard for them to get to the higher levels, could stay at ground level or poolside
as it was often called.
The Gods who wore wings had to go to the highest level, because it was so much easier
for them to get there. The four legged members had the second level with ramps leading up to it
rather than stairs. Two legged members were seated on the third level. No God was considered

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above any other on this world and all were equally protected under the constitution of The
Galactic Council.
The Gods would never allow the mistreatment of beings created in the image of one of
them to be mistreated like the Humans were doing. I knew the planet Earth was finished because
my father and most other Gods were lacking in imagination, and the life forms they usually
created always looked like one God or another.
The humans were blackening my family's name. Like creator, like creation was a saying
the Gods had, and by the humans acting this way, led every God to believe my father had these
kinds of qualities buried within.
The information was given to the Gods and the council from the survey ship that had
inspected Earth. When the Gods heard how the human’s cousins were being treated, mixed
sounds of sorrow and rage emanated from all members of The Galactic Gods Peace commission.
Although the monitors silently read the thoughts of all members, once they heard of the
horrors perpetrated on Earth, the member's vocal cords got a workout. This was truly a
cacophony of the God's voices.
Anger directed all the inhabitants and it was so strong in all the Gods that a pungent smell
of it filled the great hall and some let go with lightning bolts out of frustration. The anger was
directed at my father who was presently at the far end of the Galaxy creating another planet.
He was going to name this planet Toof. He already named one of his creations for every
other body part and this would complete it. I always wondered if the Humans he created on
Sinep, or ssa ever figured out what their planets were named after.
The God’s anger was directed to me, because being the oldest son, I was responsible in
his absence for whatever my father had created. I presented what I thought may be the cause of
the brutality and a solution to it.
“Your Godliness’s, I have concluded that the process my father used to create the
inhabitants of Earth was largely successful, other than the humans. I think that somehow when he
created them their nature got turned backwards or inside out and went from love to hate, from

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kindness to brutality, from compassion to heartlessness. It could have been sabotage from a
vengeful God or maybe the experiment wasn't perfect, but the problem can be easily remedied.”
“How do you propose we remedy the situation?” asked the spokesman.
“I'll go there myself, and see if it is sabotage.”
“What if it isn't and the Humans have somehow naturally become cruel and unfeeling
toward their fellow creatures?”
“Then I'll take whatever means necessary to fix the situation.”
I checked my chronograph. I needed to be at the exact latitude and longitude at the
precise minute, or I'd miss my transport. I stood waiting and right on time, I could see the light
beam forcing its way through the atmosphere like an inverted bubble through the air. It arrived
without a sound, and I felt the glowing light close around me in a protective cocoon as it
encompassed me. I was lifted from the atmosphere and transported at the speed of light to Earth.
I wasn't a God yet and wouldn't be until my father died, if he ever did. Occasionally
Gods got tired of living and passed their Godliness on to their oldest sons, but that happened
infrequently. The last time was two million years ago.
It was a comfortable trip, and so relaxing, I was almost sorry when it was over, but I
knew I had a job to do and the sooner, the better.
“Mr. Namuh, MR NAMUH,” the receptionist brought me out of my reverie. “Go with
Big John here, he'll be your foreman.
“What’s your language?” he asked in English.
I didn’t answer immediately because I wasn’t sure what language I should speak. He
asked the same question in Spanish, Tai Dam, Lao, Cambodian [Khmer], German, Korean, and
Chinese. I thought only gods could speak so many languages. I answered him in English and
that was the language we used.
I watched how the workers mercilessly killed thousands of their cousins, and beat,
tormented and tortured them before slaughtering them. Big John took me to the area where cows
were slaughtered. My Father had created cows in the image of my grandmother and every time
a cow’s head was smashed with a sledge-hammer, I pictured my grandmother’s head being
smashed. I had a very human reaction and puked all over Big John’s feet.

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“Don’t worry, Namuh, you’ll get used to the blood and guts after a short time.” Big John
said in Spanish and English to be sure I understood.
I puked again and felt wetness on my face.
“Jesus! Namuh, there’s nothing to cry about. They’re only goddamn cows,” Big John
said.
I walked among the humans and saw that much had changed from what my father had
created, but I found no sign of sabotage. I was granted God like powers so I would be able to fix
any mistake my father had made. Whatever changed them into what they are must have come
from within. When my father left this world to build another, he had left it in pristine condition
and in balance. There was to be no master of this world other than himself, but now that he was
gone, the humans were acting like they were the masters of this world.
“Namuh, Namuh.”
I heard my father calling me and looked up to where I knew he’d be if he visited this
world. I saw the sky filled with billowing white clouds, and if he was here, he was hidden behind
them.
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
I knew it was my father speaking because I recognized his thunderous voice. “How can I
forgive them after what they’ve done to your mother’s likeness? They’re not only cruel to their
cousins, but they treat one another almost as badly as they do their cousins.”
“I’m at fault. When I designed humans I was a newly made God, and I didn’t program
them with enough empathy or compassion. It’s not their fault.”
The clouds parted for an instant and I caught sight of my father floating high above the
clouds. His appearance awed me as it always did, but because I was sent here to fix his mistake, I
realized he wasn’t as perfect as I had always believed. This gave me the courage to say, “The
Galactic Council sent me to fix your problem, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He knew better than to interfere with the Council’s directives.
“Do what you will Son, with my blessings.”
Lightning filled the sky as he left this world for another. His sudden departure caused
heavy rain to fall as the clouds emptied, and the sky cried.

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I traveled around the entire planet. In India, I came across a man crying while milking a
cow. The sight of a grown human crying for no apparent reason intrigued me. I stopped to
observe this phenomenon. He put bowl after bowl of milk on the ground, and rats came and fed
from one bowl and snakes from the other. They ignored one another while they feasted on the
delicacy put out for them.
“Why do you feed rats and snakes?” I asked the crying man.
“All life is sacred to me. I know for me to live other life must die to feed me. But that life
that is taken for me to survive deserves to be respected for giving up its own life. But living
things are callously killed with no regard or respect. ” He emptied the milk bucket into the bowls
and started brushing the cow with a curry comb to clean her hair.
This reminded me of when I used to do the same for my grandmother. “But why are you
crying?”
“This cow is owned by a non-Hindu, and he’s sending her to be slaughtered.” He wiped
tears from his eyes and left.
My own eyes filled with tears when I pictured my grandma being hit on the head and
having her throat slit. The man belonged to a sect known as Hinduism. In this sect the cow is
considered sacred and its protection is a recurrent theme of the sanctity of all life, and of the
earth that gives much while asking nothing in return. Hindus respected the cow as a matriarchal
figure for her gentle qualities and nurturing milk. The cow holds an honored place in society, and
it is part of Hindu tradition to avoid the consumption of beef. I decided to make Hindus god’s
chosen people, as a reward for their benevolence toward the animals that were made in the image
of my grandmother.
I used my godlike powers and returned to the animals what had been taken from them by
humans through thousands of years of subjection and torture. The Hindu’s would profit from
their loving relationship that they have had for so long with their cousins, unlike Humans
elsewhere on this planet.

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Soon after I returned the qualities to the cows I watched as a boy shouted, “Mom, mom,
our cow spoke to me.”
“What did she say to you?” she asked in disbelief.
“She said her true name was Aadarshini, and she told me the world was about to change,
and because we have honored her kind for so long we were to be rewarded.”
Now his mother was getting captivated as her son usually didn't construct stories.
“Let's go talk to Aadarshini,” she said, and walked to where the cow was kept.
“Hello, Vanalika,” the cow said. She couldn't believe her ears; the cow knew her name
and spoke it. She fainted.
“Miracle talking cow discovered” The headlines blared around the world. The cow made
the talk show circuit and was in demand everywhere. At first everyone thought it was a hoax
until more and more cows started talking. When they tried to enroll their year old calves in
school, humans refused them admittance, using the technicality that they needed to be five years
old before they could register.
The cows started their own schools and learned in six months what it took a human
lifetime to learn. Cows didn’t need hands to do their work, because all they had to do was think
what it was they wanted done, and their powerful telekinesis minds would do the job.
Humans didn’t like the idea that the cows were smarter than them and were planning to
exterminate them all. Before they could harm the peace loving cows I instilled into the cows
psyche the power of telepathy so they could read the thoughts of any nearby human who meant
them harm. I set it up so if and when a thought like that was recognized, the image would be sent
back to the mind that originated the harmful thought. The image would be an unspeakable horror
dredged from the hidden parts of the mind. Once the person received this image their brains
couldn’t absorb the feelings and visions of terror, and instantly they turned into a helpless
blubbering blob of insane flesh. They would never regain their sanity.
In a short period of time, there were 3.9 billion talking cows on Earth and they ran the
world’s economy, and to keep them well fed, I put the next stage of my plan for revenge on
humans into motion.

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I consulted with the leaders of the cow community, “When humans were in charge, they
ground up animal parts and fed them to other animals. I think it’s time we did the same,” I said
while out of a long forgotten habit, I stroked one cow’s neck as I used to stroke my
grandmother’s. She wasn’t upset and I know she enjoyed it by the way her tail waved.
“That’s a good idea. We’re ruining the environment trying to grow enough food to keep
the humans fed. Some of the other animals wanted to let them starve, but all us cows thought it
inhumane to do so,” she flicked a fly off her back with her tail.
The cows put the humans to work building thousands of structures worldwide. All based
on designs the humans had themselves used for their slaughterhouses. Psychological designs
made the structures attractive and hid the fact that slaughter was taking place. The entire
slaughterhouse motif would be different from the old one. Set up in central cities, the facilities
would be made so enticing that humans would find them irresistible, and clamor to be admitted.
I was taken on a tour by the cow in charge, “We have the humans employers tell them
they’re being given a week off with pay, and free of charge they get to stay at one of the new
resorts. If they have children under the age of fourteen, those children will be sent to Amusement
Park Camp, where they’ll be attended by benevolent certified counselors. Most parents loved the
idea of getting rid of their kids for a week. We need the young ones for the choice tender meats,”
she let out a long throaty moooo. This was the cow’s way of chuckling.
She continued telling me how the “resorts” were set up as we walked close to the point
where the children line up for the Haunted Tunnel where they’re loaded into small cars that held
six.
“The louder the screams from within the tunnel,” she said, “the more excited the kids get,
thinking how much fun they’re going to have being scared enough to scream like that,” she let
out a low moo.
I watched as the kids eagerly jumped into the cars. Cows treated their young food supply
much more compassionate than the humans ever treated theirs. “So they don’t have any fear at

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until they’re slaughtered?” I asked.
She didn’t answer my question, “The adults have three destinations to choose from,” she
continued talking, “One choice is designed as a religious retreat, so those seeking salvation
choose that one. Once there a holy man leads them to the door! Another is a resort area. They’re
told the resort is a utopia where all laws against drug use and any other debauchery are
suspended, and they can have as much or as little of any drug or drink known to man during their
stay. Once they request their debauchery of choice they’re directed to the door!”
This was the second time she mentioned “The door” so I had to ask, “The door?”
“I’ll tell you about it in just a minute. The humans have a third and last choice, sin city
with luxurious dance halls and hotels that give free drinks for all. And there are beautiful men
and women prostitutes who never want to get paid, but always lead their clients to the door! This
door is the same as at the other two choices. Once the human walks through the door, it slams
shut and sets the process in motion,” Another mooo slid through her smiling lips.
“What happens when they go through the door?” I could imagine, but I wanted to hear it
from a set of cow lips.
“A noose wraps around their human legs lifts them onto a conveyer upside down where
they get electrically shocked or hit on the head with a sledge hammer,” she showed me a switch
on the floor that controlled the shocking mechanism.
“Who uses the sledge hammer on them?” I was curious as I couldn’t imagine a cow
swinging a sledge.
“We set it up so all an animal has to do is step on that button,” she looked at a button on
the floor that had the word “hammer” embossed on it, “As they go down the conveyor line, they
have their throats slit, and then the machines pull their skin off. The ones who aren’t dead yet
scream so loud when their skin is ripped off that the workers need to wear earplugs.
The human rights groups always complain about this treatment. But this is a business
and we decided the line can’t be stopped to be sure each one is dead by the time they reach the

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skinning machines, it’s too expensive.” She walked over to a trough filled with water and took a
long drink.
“You’ll notice that none of the animals working at these slaughterhouses ever display any
unnecessary cruelties towards the humans as the humans did when they were in charge,” the cow
said. “The slaughterhouses are strictly business for them, cruelty isn’t tolerated.
For now I thought, it remains to be seen if animals are eventually corrupted by their
power and turn as cruel as humans had been.”
I traveled around the world and was satisfied with the changes I had made on Earth. In
India, I watched as the cows put buckets of milk out for the humans wandering the streets. I
inquired of one cow why she did that.
“All Hindus are considered sacred and are never to be slaughtered for any reason.
They’re allowed to roam the world at their pleasure and are honored by the cows where ever they
happen to be.”
I wondered who milked the cow to fill the bucket, but I wasn’t going to ask. Ready to
return home now that I had solved the problem and humans were finally doing something useful
for this planet. By them becoming an abundant food supply the planet would have time to heal
itself and in the future, if there was a problem, my father could return to fix it. I wondered what
he was going to think of my solution.
If he doesn’t like it, I’ll tell him to take it up with the Security Council. The light bubble
came through the atmosphere and once it touched down I’d step inside and be wrapped in warm,
comforting light for the journey home.