Rola Khaim Yano surveyed the proceedings with satisfaction. The outlay on this had been enormous, but it had been worth it. He'd gone out of his way to make it possible for everyone--absolutely everyone to attend. And they had. Apart from one or two, who were a bit late. But the extenuating circumstances were perfectly understandable.
Don Henley waved to him. "Hey, Rola! Great party!" He'd cut his hair short again. No, that was only on one side of his head. Oh, well.
And there was Philip K. Dick. Phil was zonked out on something or other.
Then he saw a tall figure with a top hat moving towards him through the crowd. He caught snatches of a deep voice saying, "Excuse me. Pardon me. Terribly sorry." Most of them simply moved aside, taking little notice, but one of them, a man with black hair and skin, stopped the other in conversation. Rola caught little of it, but the black-skinned one seemed to be thanking the one with the top hat. Then he caught a glimpse of the face, and he realized who that must be. Finally, he thought. That left one more, if he remembered correctly. He mentally scanned his guest list. Well, a little lateness could be excused in his case.
The top-hatted figure shook hands amiably with the dark-skinned one and made his way further towards Rola. "Mr. Yano. I'm quite impressed at the extravaganza you've cooked up. Quite pleasant, in fact. I don't normally enjoy these kinds of things, but..." he gestured wordlessly.
"Glad you're enjoying, it, Mr. President."
The other man smiled. "No need for formalities, Mr. Yano. Just call me Abe. Besides, I'm not President anymore, really."
"Then you must call me Rola. None of this Mr. Yano nonsense."
Rola looked at his watch again as Abe turned to survey the crowd. Well, if he was going to show up anytime, it would be now.
Sure enough, he heard the sound of trumpets in the distance. No, not quite trumpets. More like trumps. And then a blinding light.
Rola sighed. A perfect entrance! Nothing like being fashionably late, if you can provide a stunning entrance.
The figure that materialized in the light was slight, and not very prepossessing physically. But as He walked forward into the crowd, it parted around Him, although many hands reached out towards Him. He made it a point to touch every hand. Finally He came up to Rola's podium.
"Sorry I'm late," He said. "But the Father's very strict about what time I can go out."
Rola waved a hand dismissingly. "Never mind, Yeshua. Have you met Abe?"
Yeshua shook Abe's hand. "I'm a great admirer of yours."
Abe smiled. "Likewise, I'm sure."
Based on the words: Abraham Jesus Outlay Introduction
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The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / firstname.lastname@example.org