Goliath: The Story the Bible Refuses to Tell Us

4 Mar

The Giant Behemoth – Pride of the Philistines, the Belly of Balthasar, and Thunder of the Gods – rolled over in his sleep.  He smacked his over-sized lips.  Lips as big as an overturned canoe, under a nose like the overhang of a mountain.  The big boy’s eyes opened with a flutter that rattled dishes all over the neighborhood.  As if the king’s chariot had just rumbled through town.

Goliath had been having the most delicious dream.  He had just knocked off that sheep herder, David’s, head.  It had rolled into a ditch where it came to rest with a sickly smile staring up to heaven.

Goliath called for his huge breakfast bowl to be filled with meat, entrails and fresh blood. He dove right in, filling his mouth with carnage like a mother bird stuffing a young chick.  He  sang a song of merry violence that caused some of the bloody glop to drop back into his bowl. He laughed and chortled.  A sound like a rusty gate in an earthquake.  It was a good day.

Ready for battle he put on his light helmet with no protective visor.  The one with the heavy visor made his head look fat.  And thus he strode out to face the puny David.

He would have been shocked by the lucky shot that David got in with his slingshot except for one thing.  Once that rock crashed into the front of his skull he was too dead to care.


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