Comparative

At a certain point in the evening (in the wine), Timmons would start in on the uselessness of comparative religion studies and Wells would find the bait irresistible. If unchecked, the point / counterpoint dynamic would devolve into a profanity-laced feud and something in the house would be broken (typically a delicate heirloom or expensive item coveted and long-saved-for). As the moment predictably neared, Dillard gave everyone a comforting wink - harkening back to a promise he'd made to them at invite (that it would be different this time - that the drama would, in fact, be nipped in the proverbial bud). Voices raising (the third bottle of rose down to 1/3 full), Dillard stood up and took center stage in the living room. "HUSH, TOWERS OF BABEL!" Dillard commanded in a loud, theatrical voice. The voice was so shocking (coming from the profoundly analytical and incredibly shy Dillard) that the room found itself in silence. "LET," Dillard continued, "is the magic of allowing - the permission to begin!" They stared. "THERE," he intoned, "is the magic of direction - the mark of intention!" Timmons almost spoke, but for the palpable glares which resulted when a breath was taken. "BE," Dillard announced to the ceiling, "is the magic of creation - the focus that manipulates particle matter!" Wells sat back (transfixed or stunned, none could be sure, but speechless just the same). "And LIGHT," Dillard shouted for extra emphasis, "is the magic of knowing and being combined in a radiant joy that is the truth at the core of all things - that like calls to like and the stars do truly await our return!" Someone swore in amazement; someone else began to clap; someone uncorked a fresh bottle of something. Dillard, turning towards The Two with a grin. "Get over it completely; it's boring and irrelevant; welcome to Hogwart's." And the clapping increased, drowning out all side conversations with additional hoots and random praises, especially when Wells and Timmons joined in.