Gajandra strode up to a tall, thin foreign man whom he judged to have come from the lands far West, a great distance beyond the Ganges, that some sages have referred to as "Ur-oap."

The foreigner looked up from a goblet that he was cleaning, apparently made out of some kind of transparent metal, and addressed Gajandra, "What kin I do ya for, punk?"

"Punk? You take me for another, friend--I am Gajandra, of the Poo-too Shamans. I have come to ask for a coin."

"You want coins, ya gotta earn it, Slim," advised the foreigner in his strange dialect. He handed Gajandra a square platter holding more than a dozen perfectly round rocks, each brightly coloured and sporting a numerical symbol.

"Jutu," whispered Gajandra, "What am I to do with these?"

As Jutu shrugged, the foreigner explained, "Straight pool's the game in this room, pal--straight rotation, no masse' shots, and watch your damn language when you're losin'."

"I mean no offense, especially since you are a foreigner, but you continue to mistake me for other persons: my name is not 'Punk' nor 'Slim' nor 'Pal'--"

Gajandra was startled at the foreigner's rude interruption:

"Heard it all before, Jakes--You take your juice when you've earned it--now quit gabbin' and start shootin'!" The foreigner pointed to a distant low, green table in the corner of the long dark room. "I'm givin' ya table 14, now ske-daddle!"

Gajandra could guess at the rough meaning of his strange language from the man's 'pushing-off' gesture, and so he and Jutu carried the ball-platter to the table numbered 14.

"Jutu," noted Gajandra, "I do not know this game, but I do not think we can play it properly at this playing field--look, it's full of holes!"

And so was the table punched with holes--Jutu counted at least 5 of them, all perfectly round, 4 at the corners and 2 on the sides. Gajandra placed the ball labeled "1" upon the table and began moving it around with one hand. Nothing happened. So he placed the 2 ball on the table and began rolling it about. Still nothing.

"There are only a dozen or so balls, sire. Be careful not to drop any of them through the holes," chided Jutu.

By the time Gajandra had rolled the 15th ball to little effect, a gravelly voice called out from behind him.

"'Assamatter, Blondie, cain't ya find no stick?"

Gajandra turned to see yet another foreigner from the Far West. Only this one was of great girth, and sported loftier drapings.

"Here," said the stranger as he handed Gajandra a polished wooden lance, "Use mine."

The stranger was kind enough to demonstrate to Gajandra how the game was played, including the scoring techniques and the interesting fact that in this game, one wished to lose the balls down the holes scattered along the edges of the table.

"Most curious," offered Gajandra, after the lesson, "And I am Gajandra. How may I call you, sir?"

"Me? Call me Chahlie, Toots. So now that you know the game, how's about we make it a little bit interesting?"

"Ah, but it already is a most interesting game, I think."

"Yeah, right--but wouldn't it be more interestin' if we put a little scratch on it?"

Because Gajandra did not seem to take the stranger's point, Jutu was broadly gesticulating to him, miming a coin and the relevant scenes from the Mahabharata.

"Ah, you wish to wager!" he said at last. "Yes, I will wager you one quarter-rupee for the victor of this tournament!"

The man wrinkled his nose as if insulted. "One quarter?? You nuts?"

Gajandra looked confused, and then understood. "Ah yes, one quarter and a packet of Burujdhi Nuts!"

The stranger did not seem excited about the Burujdhi Nuts, no doubt because he did not know how hearty is the taste of a ripe, broad Burujdhi nut in season. The two began to play the strange game, knocking one ball into another until almost all of the balls had fallen into holes.

They struggled at the long tournament for several hours before, finally Gajandra had vanquished his opponent.

"Ah, I have won!" exclaimed the prince. "One quarter, please!"

The rotund foreigner looked a little nonplussed as his fingers groped through the pockets of his garments but came up empty.

"Oh, uh, sorry Sport, but I'm all outta change. What say we play double-or-nothing?"

Gajandra's eyes narrowed as he suddenly saw this stranger for what he truly was.

"Demon!" he cried, "Release the Quarter Coin, or I shall run you through with this lance!"

"Relax, Nehru, It's jess a Gaddam Two-bits!" extolled the foreigner as his spherical body gradually changed form into the Goddess Sarasvita, Goddess of Learning.

"Let that be a lesson to youse," declared Sarasvita, "You gonna put your money up, you better make yer patsy show you the money first!"

Just then a loud trumpeting filled the room. Gajandra recognized the blast as one that could be made by none other than ....

"Come Jutu!" he instructed, and they wandered about the room to find the source of the sound. Then another shriek sounded--from behind a door near the far tables. The pair burst through the doors to a secluded private ball-playing room where stood none other than GANESH!! the great elephant-headed, crimson-bodied God of Wisdom, engaged in a fierce game of "Eight Ball" with none other than the multi-armed SIVA, GODDESS of DESTRUCTION.

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