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Esther’s Diary

Note: This story contains adult language and addresses issues such as sex in a way that may not be appropriate for all readers.

Dear Diary,
Mordechai took me into Shushan today. Not the Jewish part, that’s so crummy, but the real part where everybody else goes. He is so cool, you’d never guess he was Jewish. He was wearing an incredible black and silver robe. Everybody looked at him like he was a nobleman, which he isn’t of course. He gave me a neat outfit to wear–it had a light blue top and a skirt with dark blue swirls. But I still felt like an ugly Jewish girl from the sticks. And my hair was the pits; I was wearing a stupid ponytail like a little kid. You should have seen the girls in Shushan. Everybody puts their hair up in all kinds of cool buns or wears these amazing headpieces with beads and even gold and jewels.
Then Mordechai took me to the courtyard of the palace. It was amazing. King Ahasuerus was staying in the palace so the full court was in session and everybody was just hanging around this big plaza in front of the palace. It was, like, a huge carnival. The women were so beautiful and the men all seemed rich. And Mordechai fit right in. He is so hot with a nice trim beard just like the Persians, not straggly like the Jews. Some men came right up to him; I think he is doing some kind of deal. I felt like an ugly washrag among all these beautiful, cool people.
Suddenly Queen Vashti appeared on a horse. She is, like, the most beautiful woman in the world. She was wearing the most brightly colored robes I ever saw, and they were billowing around her almost like a rainbow of clouds. She left her robe nearly wide open at the top. You could see the men trying to get a peek at her boobs. And her skirt was slit so high you could, like, see her legs all the way up to her thighs as she sat sidesaddle on the horse. The rabbi and the Jews around here would have fainted if they saw her. She was so awesome. Even the noblemen were drooling over her as she ordered them around. I’d kill to be like her. Being Jewish sucks.
After she disappeared into the palace, Mordechai took me to a café he knew. It was dark and very romantic and smelled of exotic teas and spices. He took my hand and then stroked my cheek and told me I was as beautiful as Vashti. Of course he was just saying it; nobody could be as beautiful as Vashti, but I did like hearing it, especially from Mordechai. Then he put his arm around my neck and stroked my hair. He pulled me close and kissed me. I tingled at his touch. He’s nothing like the stupid Jewish boys at home. He really did make me feel beautiful. Everybody thinks he’s my uncle, my mother’s baby brother, but he isn’t really. He was taken in by my grandparents as a foster child, just another Jewish orphan after some pogrom where a lot of Jews got killed. So we’re not actually relatives at all, not through blood anyway. He is supposed to be watching out for me as my guardian now that my parents are dead, but he’s not even that much older than me. Anyway, he is so cool.
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Dear Diary,
Guess what? The King has ordered up a huge party at the palace. It’s been going on for months already and nobody around here even heard about it. Of course, being Jews, we couldn’t go anyway. Jews can hardly do anything. But Mordechai was invited somehow to one of the banquets, and he asked me to join him. He’s got some deal going with some people in Shushan–they might not even realize he’s Jewish–and they invited him. My first thought was that I couldn’t go. For one, I’m Jewish. Also, I don’t have anything like the kind of dress I would need. Mordechai told me to forget about the Jewish stuff and then he showed me a gorgeous gown that I could wear. I’ll have to make alterations but, hey, like I’m going to a party at the palace, a real palace.
The party is next Friday night, but that doesn’t seem to bother Mordechai even though he’s Jewish too. When my parents were alive they were so strict about Shabbat. We had to follow all these stupid rules from the Torah about what to eat and what to do and what we could do on Shabbat. I mean, it was really, like, pointless. We couldn’t do anything fun or go anywhere or do anything. Mordechai says he cares about Shabbat and all that Jewish stuff, but he says we can break the rules this time. I won’t argue. Sometimes he acts just like the Persians. I can’t believe it.
Anyway, I can’t write any more. I have to get to work on this dress. It has gold and silver threads running through it. You won’t believe how beautiful it is. Oh, and I’m not supposed to tell anybody around here about what we’re doing. My mouth is sealed, Diary, except for you of course.
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Dear Diary,
The party at the palace was incredible!!! We were standing around in this big marble hall. The King made an appearance. Suddenly a bunch of guards rushed in and it sounded like they were blowing a million trumpets. Anyway, the King swooped into the hall along with Queen Vashti. She looked so beautiful, just as you would expect. She was wearing a dress made completely of strings of beads and jewels and when she walked it swished and you could really see her body, almost like she was naked. I don’t think she was wearing underwear or anything. I could never do that; I’d, like, die of embarrassment. But then, I don’t look anything like Vashti. She’s gorgeous. Some mean looking guy followed right behind them. Mordechai said the guy’s name was Haman and he was just promoted to some senior minister job. Mordechai said Haman is a real asshole. Supposedly the King doesn’t even like Haman but he got the job because the King owed some favor to someone who did like Haman.
The King stopped and turned to the crowd. Everybody suddenly kneeled. We were standing way in the back where you could barely see. I didn’t know what to do so I kneeled too. Mordechai didn’t kneel. He just stood there way in the back. I don’t think the King even noticed, but Haman did. Haman glared at Mordechai before he rushed after the King. What the hell are you doing, I asked him after Haman left and everybody stood up again. Jews don’t kneel to people, he replied. Yeah, but Jews aren’t supposed to even be here, I told him.
I really felt kind of awkward being there, especially as a Jew. I mean I never liked following all that Torah stuff or cared about anything Jewish but it’s kinda different when you’re here among all these non-Jews. As we approached the palace earlier in the day–on the way to the party–some old Jewish women who were loaded with packages of groceries and stuff were rushing to get home by Shabbat. All of a sudden, Queen Vashti with a bunch of soldiers following her came riding around a corner and almost hit the women, but she brought the horse to a stop just in time. Then, she took her riding crop and lashed out at the old women knocking them down while she yelled, get out of the way you old Jewish hags or I’ll have the King kill all of you. She was so mean. It was, like, really scary. I told Mordechai that maybe we shouldn’t go, you know, being Jewish and all. He hugged me and said not to worry about it, nobody will ever guess I’m Jewish, we’ll blend right in. And then what does he do? He stands up when everyone else is kneeling. Duh, like who’s going to stand out now.
Then he said something about how important it is to get somebody Jewish into a high position in the palace, close to the King. That really bad things were, like, going to happen to the Jewish people in Persia and somebody had to be in position to protect them. Anyway, he was trying to think of a plan. If you think you’re going to be that person, don’t count on it, I told him, especially if he keeps pissing off powerful people like Haman. Sometimes I don’t understand him. But the party was really fun even if a lot of the food was really yucky–stuff I’d never even seen before, like a whole pig with its head sitting right on the plate. It was gross.
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Dear Diary,
Mordechai came today and told me the weirdest news: Queen Vashti has been thrown out of the palace by the King. She’s been sent away forever, maybe even killed. Nobody really knows. And it was all because she refused to dance at some special dinner the King was giving for some really powerful old men. Do you believe it? Just dancing at a party doesn’t sound bad to me. Actually it sounds like fun, more fun than I’ll ever have around here. Then Mordechai said she was supposed to dance naked, maybe even have sex with some of them. Now that’s completely different. Anyway, she refused and I don’t blame her; she said she was tired. The King was going to just forget about it. He seems pretty easygoing. He has a big harem so he could just get some other girls to dance naked. I’ve seen them. They are, like, all beautiful. But then the men who were there told the King that if he let Vashti get away with being insolent and not doing what she was told all the men in Persia would have trouble with their wives once word got around. So he kicked her out. Isn’t that mean?
I didn’t know what to think. I mean I kind of felt really sorry for Vashti, and it seems so unfair. But then, she also wasn’t exactly a nice person, like that time she whipped those old Jewish women before the party. Then Mordechai came up to me and started playing with my hair and looking me all over. What are you doing, I demanded. You know, he said, this might change a lot of things over at the palace, and a girl like me might go real far. Then he started to unbutton the top of my blouse so you could see part of my boobs. I, like, couldn’t believe what he was doing, but I was starting to get pretty turned on. I mean I had been dropping hints and coming on to him for weeks, but he was, like, oblivious. Anyway, I had never let any of the Jewish guys in this stupid town touch me like that before. They are all dorks who want nothing more than to go to some stupid yeshiva and sit around listening to some old fart. Anyway, Mordechai says that if I was willing I might score big; we both could. It is all part of some sort of plan of God’s. I wasn’t sure what he meant. God’s never done anything for me before that I know about. Anyway, I suddenly wanted Mordechai to scoop me into his arms and smother me with hugs and kisses. He just gave me one little kiss and rushed out saying he was going to look into some things.
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Dear Diary,
There is going to be a big contest to find a new queen to replace Vashti, and Mordechai wants me to enter. He says he’ll sponsor me. At first I was excited when he told me, but then I didn’t think I wanted to do it. I mean, if I won, which I certainly wouldn’t, but if I did, I would, like, have to be the King’s wife and sleep with him and maybe have sex with other people too if he ordered me to, just like Vashti. This is just too weird.
So I told Mordechai, no way. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer and we got into a big fight. I kept telling him that I was Jewish, and the King would never pick a Jewish girl as queen so it was a waste of time. And if he did pick me and they found out I was Jewish, they would kill me. Come on, Mordechai knows how they treat Jews around here–like shit. Mordechai insisted that I didn’t look Jewish and since I didn’t have any Jewish family left alive, nobody at the palace would ever find out. And since when, he argued, do I care about being Jewish so much. I don’t care about being Jewish; I’d give it up in a second if the rest of the world would let me. It’s a drag being Jewish. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t convert to something else anyway. We might be God’s chosen people, but what has that ever gotten us. Most Jews I know are, like, happy if they just let us live in a filthy stinking ghetto and don’t persecute us too much. Who needs it?
That’s the point, Mordechai shouted. I could get away from being Jewish forever if I won the contest. Of course, Mordechai as my supposed guardian could live near the palace and he’d do even bigger deals and I’d keep the King happy and we’d all get rich. Since the King is so much older than me, he’d die pretty soon anyway and I would still have, like, my whole life left. Well, I finally agreed, but I didn’t tell Mordechai the real reason why, but I will tell you, Diary. I want Mordechai to live near me in the palace. If I can make the King happy, maybe I can get Mordechai a position inside the palace where he can be important and powerful and we can really be together, you know, like real lovers. Mordechai thinks he and God are the only ones with plans, but I’m starting to get plans of my own. Of course, the chances of my winning the contest are about one in zillion. OK, I have a nice figure, and Mordechai thinks I’m really good looking, but c’mon, being good looking is one thing. Being beautiful like Vashti is something completely different. It’d take a fucking miracle.
But at least Mordechai thinks I’m beautiful. I just wish he’d do something about it, like come on to me, but he keeps holding back. He wants me to save my virginity. What the hell for?
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Dear Diary,
The contest was a disaster, a sheer disaster! I should have, like, guessed when Mordechai brought me the so-called fancy dress I was going to wear. It was a stupid kid’s dress. Sure, it had a deep V-neck that really showed my boobs, hugged my waist, and had slits that showed off my legs, but the colors and the material really were what you would use to dress up a kid. The King’s looking for a fucking Queen, not a daughter, I shouted. The King has an eye for young girls, Mordechai insisted. He doesn’t want another Vashti; she was too much for him to handle. He’s going to want somebody young, sweet, virginal, and innocent who is still sexy. Virginal, innocent and sexy–boy, there’s an easy combination. At least I’m still a virgin, no thanks to Mordechai. This is going to take more than a miracle, I told him.
Anyway, when we arrived at the palace, we were, like, all herded into this huge room with tons of bright, colored silk tapestries hanging on the wall. They were gorgeous. The place was filled with all these beautiful girls and their mothers. They all wore dresses that really pushed up their boobs, and they all wore their hair piled on their heads in these fancy swirls. And into all this strolls stupid Esther, looking like a schoolgirl. Mordechai insisted that I let my hair hang down in a braid in the back and tease out my bangs in the front. He even put a ribbon in my hair! I haven’t worn a stupid ribbon in my hair since, like, I was ten. I’m surprised he didn’t give me lollipop to suck. I felt like a kid among all these beautiful women. You should have heard the sniggering when I walked by.
Then, we all had to line up. The King walked down the line looking at each of us. I sneaked a glance down the line and all you could see was this row of big boobs pushed out. Mordechai wouldn’t even let me wear a bra. Mine were just dangling there. The King paused for a second in front of me and whispered something to some guy who was following him. Then he just moved on. I felt like an idiot.
After that the King went to sit on this gold and marble throne with all these big purple pillows all over the place. Each girl had to walk up a few steps and kneel in front of the king and then get up and walk away. There must have been a hundred girls in the line. Anyway, by the time my turn came I was really nervous. As I started to climb the little steps, I stepped on the edge of my dress and fell right at the feet of the King. A lot more of my leg was showing through the slit in my dress than I intended, but what could I do? So much for being virginal and innocent. Then the King reached over with his hand like he was helping me up. So I took his hand and saw that he was peering down the V-neck of my dress. That was when I noticed my boobs had just about fallen out of the dress. I jiggled a little bit to get them back in place. The King was still holding my hand. Boy, I’ve already blown it I thought, so, like, what the hell; I took his hand, turned it over, gave a little suck and nibble on his index finger, which had this humongous ring on it. It all, like, happened in a second. Then, some guy standing next to the King was telling me to move on.
Anyway, when I got out of the room, Mordechai was waiting. I told him what happened. Innocent, I told you to be innocent, he kept saying. Well I tried, but when I tripped, I figured if I’m going to be klutzy instead of innocent, I might as well try to be sexy. What do I know? Anyway, I never really had a chance, I told him, especially when he dressed me up like a schoolgirl. Diary, you should have seen some of those girls.

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Dear Diary,
Queen Esther, Queen Esther, Queen Esther, Queen Esther–that’s right, Diary. I am to become Queen Esther. I can’t believe it. I won. I won the stupid contest. Mordechai was right. Innocent and sexy, I guess that’s me. I’m going to be queen. Goodbye Jewishness, goodbye ghetto, goodbye ugly old clothes, goodbye dorky Jewish guys. I’m moving into the palace with the harem tomorrow to start my training. I don’t even have to pack anything, except you Diary, of course. They are giving me all new clothes and perfumes and lotions and hair things and everything, and I will have wonderful oil baths every day. It will be so awesome. And Mordechai already has a line on a place to live right nearby. We’re going to be together, sort of. Maybe not right away, but we will soon enough. In the meantime, I hope the King is nice. He’s kind of old but he seems nice enough.
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Dear Diary,
I gotta tell you; being Queen is nothing like you ever imagined it. First, a lot of people are waiting on you day and night. You never have to pick up your clothes or clean anything or cook. They bring you anything you want and everything is really the best stuff around, stuff from all over the world. That’s the good part.
All you’re supposed to do is, like, be a friend to the King, kind of like always going on dates with him. Sometimes you’re just joining him for dinner. Other times you’re going someplace else with him, which is a whole big production. There is usually some kind of banquet or party, and you’re expected to make conversation. There really isn’t much to say, believe me. All these people talk about is the price of olive oil or gossip about all these noblemen and the ladies who make up the court. I just usually listen and say uh huh or sure or yeah or OK every now and then. They probably think I’m dumb, but like, what else is there to say? I don’t give a damn about the price of olive oil or who some rich lady is sleeping with. Then, you’re expected dance for the audience. You’d think that would be fun, but sometimes you have to, like, take off all your clothes when you dance and that’s kind of weird. Still, you get over it quick. Just remember Vashti.
The King is a really old guy. He could probably be my grandfather. He’s kind of nice in a pathetic sort of way. Often he calls me and just wants me to sit with him. Sometimes he asks me to take off my clothes, so of course I do. Half the time, he doesn’t even touch me. He’ll just look at me, maybe ask me to pose. Sometimes he’ll kiss my boobs. A couple of times he asked me to, like, give him head. It was gross, but I did because I didn’t think I had any choice (and I was trying to imagine it was Mordechai all the time). You know, even then he had trouble getting it up. I think he has some kind of problem or maybe he’s just old. Then, he always tells me that I can ask him for anything I want. Mordechai keeps telling me to cool it and not ask for much, to save the big favors for when we really need them. But the King really seems to want to do things for me so I sometimes ask for little things that I don’t even really want just because it seems to make him happy, things like a new gown or a horse. He’s got a ton of horses. Now I gotta learn to ride a stupid horse, but I’m sure not going to wear the kind of outfits Vashti was wearing on horseback and, like, have every pervert in Shushan staring at me when I ride by.
The other people around here are pretty awful. Everyone seems to hate Jews, and they hardly even know any Jews. I wish I wasn’t Jewish so I didn’t have to keep pretending. Haman, that stupid minister guy, is probably the worst, but he isn’t the only Jew hater, that’s for sure. He keeps asking me really prying questions about my parents and my childhood and all that. Sometimes I think he suspects I’m Jewish so I am real careful with everybody around here. Other times I think he’s trying to hit on me, which is, like, really stupid because trying to put the moves on the King’s number one girl can probably get you killed real fast around here.
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Dear Diary,
You won’t believe the shit that’s going down. Mordechai came to me yesterday–I actually don’t have much time to get together with him, but as my guardian he’s allowed to come see me almost any time. Anyway, he came to me with this incredible information he overheard. He was standing near the palace gate when he heard two of the King’s eunuchs–these weird guys who guard the harem–planning to kill the King. So Mordechai came and told me all about it: when, where, who, everything. He insisted that I tell the King right away, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You can’t just go knock on the King’s door, even if you are his number one queen. Anyway, Mordechai thought that by telling the King we’d be, like, saving his life, and the King would owe us big and that might come in handy later.
So, I went to Hegai, who is kind of the chief eunuch and supervises the harem. He’s kind of mean and strict. I told him I had something very important to tell the King. He said I’d have to wait until he called for me. Or, I could tell him whatever it was and he’d pass it on to the King. Of course, that would ruin everything; he’d tell the King and he’d owe a favor to him. Instead, I told him that if the King didn’t hear what I had to say right away directly from me, he would miss something wonderful and would be really mad at him when I explained why I hadn’t been able to tell him in time. Well, that got Hegai all anxious and he disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back, he said the King would see me right then.
Of course, I told the King everything Mordechai had heard and made sure he knew that it was Mordechai who uncovered the plot against him and told me about it. That way, the King would not only owe us both a favor but he would be happy when Mordechai visited me because he might be passing on more good information. Then the King had his security chief arrest the two eunuchs and sure enough, they were caught red-handed preparing poison and everything to kill the King. Then the King ordered the entire story, especially Mordechai’s role in discovering the plot, be like written down in the King’s special book. Anyway, the two eunuchs were hanged the next day while a bunch of other eunuchs were fired for not uncovering the plot sooner. Hegai ended up in really deep shit too. And you can bet my position around here has really come up a few notches.
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Dear Diary,
Haman is a mega asshole. He sucked up to the King and, like, managed to get appointed as the First Minister. Now he is strutting around here like he is God’s gift to the world and he’s even more insistent that everybody bow down to him. Of course, everybody bows down to the King, but until this jerk arrived nobody bowed down to the First Minister. A couple of people who didn’t bow down to him got flogged in the palace courtyard. It was really gross. Then a eunuch told me that Mordechai refused to bow down to Haman when they crossed paths right outside the palace. Everyone else bowed, but Mordechai just stood there. Haman, the eunuch said, is still enraged about the incident. I better warn Mordechai; the eunuch thinks Haman knows Mordechai is Jewish and is out to get him on the slightest thing. If Mordechai doesn’t watch himself, he may get us both killed. Sometimes I can’t begin figure out what Mordechai is up to. Most of the time, he acts like he doesn’t give a damn about being Jewish and then this bowing thing comes up and suddenly he’s a candidate to be the next Hebrew prophet. Maybe it’s some kind of guy thing. Anyway, things are really starting to go well. Mordechai’s got some nice deals cooking, and I’m really hitting my stride here ever since the murder plot. I’m afraid he’s just going to blow everything.
When the King told me about appointing Haman, I couldn’t believe it. He asked me what I thought, but it was clear he had already decided. I couldn’t very well complain that Haman hated Jews because everybody around here hates Jews and nobody knows I’m Jewish. So, I kind of hinted that Haman kept making passes at me. It didn’t seem to bother him. Oh, Haman’s just trying to be friendly; he’d never do anything disrespectful, he said. But, he added, if anybody ever makes passes at me, he’ll have them executed. So I ended up saying well, you know best. I also better warn Mordechai because now that I’m sort of set up here, we’ve been fooling around a bit. I guess we better cut it out for now.
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Dear Diary,
Well, the shit, like, hit the fan today. Haman drew up a royal decree ordering the killing of Jews everywhere in the kingdom–men, women, children, old, young, everybody–on the thirteenth day of Adar, a stupid day they picked by drawing fucking lots. And everyone could then plunder everything the Jews owned, not that they own much, I can tell you that. Anyway, Haman somehow convinced the King to sign the decree, the doddering old fool. When Mordechai heard about it he had a fit at the palace gate. The eunuchs brought him to me in my room because he was making such a fuss.
I tried to calm Mordechai down, but he wouldn’t listen to reason. Look, I said, you’ll be safe. I can protect you here in the palace with me. We can even bring in some Jews from home. But what about the other Jews, he kept ranting. All of a sudden you’re so concerned about the lousy Jews, I asked. You never gave a shit about the Jews. It was you who showed me how to live like a goy, to violate Shabbat, to eat non-kosher food, to marry a goy. That’s what you did, you know. You set me up to marry a goy. Some guardian you are! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing here? I’m stripping at parties and sleeping with the King, at least on those rare occasions when he can get it up. Now all of a sudden you care about the Jews. Gimme a break. Do you think I like what I’ve become? I’ve become a royal whore, and you’ve gotten rich making deals with noblemen because of me, so you’re, like, a royal pimp.
Then Mordechai confesses about his big plan: I, sweet beautiful Esther, was the Jew he wanted to get into the palace all along. He knew they would never allow a Jewish man in any position of real power, but if the Queen were a Jew, then that would be something else. It was a crazy plan, but it worked so far, he said. Now, I have to call in all the favors I have with the King.
Oh boy, that’s not so easy. He forgot one thing; I can’t just go strolling up to the King asking for a favor. I can’t even talk to the King unless he invites me. If I even tried, I could be killed. It’s a palace rule. Mordechai says don’t worry this is all part of God’s plan, but, like, I really have to think about this.
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Dear Diary,
This is a suicide mission. I don’t know why I’m doing this. Except maybe that I just don’t want the Jews to get slaughtered. They never hurt anybody. Mordechai keeps saying this is all part of God’s plan. You know, Vashti suddenly getting kicked out, me winning the contest to be the next Queen, saving the King’s life–God was behind it all. I mean, I thought it was all a crazy idea from the start. Maybe it really is God’s plan. We’d need a miracle for this stupid plan to work. If not, I’m dead and so is Mordechai.

Fortunately, we have some time. Here’s the plan: I’m going to attract the King’s attention and get him to ask me to speak. Then I’m going to invite him and Haman to a private party in my chambers. Then, if the King comes, he will surely reward me with another favor because he is always asking if I want anything and I’ll ask him to save my people. In the process, I’ll have to figure out how to get rid of Haman somehow. Sounds simple enough, huh? The eunuchs are going to help me. They’re preparing my most beautiful gown and tomorrow they are going to place me in a position where the King can’t miss me. I haven’t prayed to God since I was a child in my parent’s house, but I’m going to pray to God tonight. Mordechai insists that I fast too just to show God how serious I am. Seems kind of dumb but, hey if that’s what gets God’s attention, I’ll do it. And Mordechai says he’s going to get all the Jews of Shushan to fast too just to make sure God’s listening. It sounds kind of far-fetched but, like, what have we got to lose?
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Dear Diary,
It worked! I can’t believe it. The King and Haman were passing through the inner courtyard of the palace where the eunuchs had told me to stand in my gown. The sun was shining through just perfectly, making my hair sparkle. I must have looked like an angel from heaven. The King saw me and raised his scepter, which was the signal that I could approach. Then he asked if I wanted anything and I invited him and Haman to a party. He agreed and ordered Haman to come too. It was that simple.
At the party, I kept generously pouring some outstanding wine the eunuchs brought me. The King was getting pretty tipsy. I pretty much ignored Haman but he seemed thrilled just to be there. Every time I leaned over to pour more wine he kept trying to peer down my dress to see my boobs. I let him see just enough to drive him crazy.
As I expected, the King insisted on doing a favor for me. This time I played coy and asked him to attend yet another feast I was giving the next night, and he should make sure Haman came too. At that feast, I teased, I would let him know what favor he could do for me and, picking up his hand and putting it on my boobs I hinted at all the favors I would do for him in return. The old fool got the message. From the look on Haman’s face, I thought he was, like, about to cum all over himself.
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Dear Diary,
We blew it. Damn it, damn Mordechai, damn Haman. I had it all set up. It was working great but we blew it. Haman unexpectedly bumped into Mordechai outside the palace. Of course Mordechai didn’t bow to him, especially knowing about the decree to kill Jews. Anyway, they exchanged words and Haman stalked off madder than ever. But now a eunuch tells me that Haman has ordered a 50-foot high gallows be erected in the courtyard near his house. He’s going to ask the King to hang Mordechai on it before our feast tomorrow. And now it’s too late for the eunuch or even Hegai to get me in to see the King. The old fool has gone to bed already. Shit, we’re screwed. God, oh God, please help us.
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Dear Diary,
A miracle! It’s a fucking miracle! The eunuchs told me all about it. The old fool couldn’t sleep last night so he got up and started reading his damn book where he records all the things that happen that he likes. And what page does he turn to? The page where Mordechai reported the plot to kill the King. He then tells the servants Mordechai has to be rewarded right away.
First thing this morning, Haman came in all set to request Mordechai be hanged on the gallows. But before he can get a word out, the King asks him what he should do to honor someone special. The fool Haman stupidly assumes the King is referring to himself and suggests dressing the man up in royal clothes and letting him ride around on a royal horse while wearing a crown. OK, says the King. Honor Mordechai exactly as Haman just described. Damn, I would have loved to see Haman’s face at that moment.
Anyway, Diary, I don’t have time to write much. I have to put my own ass in gear. The King and Haman are coming to the banquet I promised this afternoon. We’re still not out of the woods by a long shot. In fact, Diary, the hardest part–convincing the King to rescind his stupid decree–is yet to come, and the damn thirteenth of Adar is coming up fast. But at least I’ve got Haman where I want him. Still, this is going to take a miracle. Hey, God, are you listening?
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Dear Diary,
Am I sharp or what? You won’t believe the trap I sprung, and stupid Haman walked into it better than I could have ever imagined. First, I put on my absolutely sexiest clothes–almost no clothes at all. That little slinky jeweled half top with thin straps and a bead skirt that reveals just about everything. Haman and the King were drooling from the moment they saw me.
Then, as I expected, the King was so happy he insisted that he do a favor for me. So, I put on my poor little defenseless damsel act and told him that someone was going to kill me. The King immediately jumped up and demanded to know the story. Then I told him about the plan to kill all the Jews and how I just happened to be Jewish. Of course, I added that I would most likely be the first to get killed. The King immediately demanded to know who was responsible for this terrible thing. Well, Diary, you should have seen Haman. He knew what was coming, and he was just about shitting on the floor. I cannot tell a lie, I said; it was Haman. Then I collapsed on the bed crying in despair. The King was furious and dashed out to get guards.
As soon as the King left, Haman started groveling on the floor, pleading for his life. I could hear the King returning with the guards, so I motioned Haman to come up on the bed where I was lying No sooner does the stupid fool get on the bed and start begging again then the King storms in. I start to yell like I’m being attacked. I even tore that little top I was wearing–I am so so bad. The King hits the roof. Do you mean to ravish my Queen in my own palace?, he screamed. God, it was perfect.
Haman could barely speak. Then one of the guards said that there was a big gallows built right next to Haman’s house. It was the gallows Haman intended to hang Mordechai on, but I jumped up and said that was the gallows Haman was going to use to kill me. The King spun around and glared at Haman. Hang him on those gallows, he ordered. And the guards dragged Haman away.
Later, after I told the King that Mordechai was my relative and reminded him that Mordechai was the guy who had been so loyal when the eunuchs planned to kill him, he gave me all of Haman’s property and put Mordechai in charge of managing it for me. Well Diary, I am one rich Jewish girl. You can’t believe all the wealth that Haman had grabbed through intimidation and murder. He was one mean murdering asshole.
We were just about to start celebrating when I suddenly remembered the stupid decree. I reminded the King to rescind the decree about killing Jews that Haman had tricked him into signing, but he said he couldn’t, by law. Can you believe that, Diary? He’s the stupid King and he can’t rescind the fucking decree! But you’re the King, I said. Still, the way Haman wrote the decree meant that he couldn’t rescind it. This looked real bad because there are a lot of people eager to murder Jews.
Then Mordechai came up with a brilliant idea; he suggested the King write another decree warning the Jews about the attack and allowing them to arm themselves and defend themselves. And, the new decree would say if anyone attacked the Jews, the Jews could kill them and plunder their possessions. So, it would be a stalemate and nobody would attack anybody, I hope. Mordechai wrote up the decree in fancy legal language and the King signed it and ordered it sent to every province, city, town, and village in the country immediately. The King also appointed Mordechai as a special minister of government, which gives him lots of power.
It’s incredible, Diary. It really is a miracle, a real miracle. I didn’t think much about God before, but Mordechai insists this was all God’s work. He says God always manages to take care of Jews although sometimes it sure seems like God is working against us. At least it looked that way to me. But this was so crazy and it looked so bleak that God had to have had a hand in this. Otherwise, we’d all be, like, toast.
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Dear Diary,
There’s so much to tell you. As soon as we got past the thirteenth of Adar, things really started to settle down at the palace. There was still a bunch of killing, but it was the Jews doing the killing for a change. Mordechai became the King’s main man. I also sat down and had a long talk with the King. I told him that I could be a great queen for him, but we had to change a couple of things. Mainly this dancing and stripping in front of other people just wasn’t right, especially for a queen. It was so uncool and made him look real sleazy. I said I would always be happy to strip for him and, like, do whatever turned him on in private. But when he wanted to give his pals sexual thrills, he could send the harem girls. That’s what they were there for. And you know what, Diary? He agreed! So now I feel like I really am the queen.
I still see Mordechai all the time around the palace, but we’ve completely stopped fooling around. Since the King decided to respect me, I decided to act like his wife for real. He won’t live forever. After he dies, if Mordechai and I, like, decide to get it together, nobody will be hurt or bothered.
And I’ve gotten back into being Jewish. After seeing what life is like among the palace court and the nobles all those rules in the Torah don’t seem so stupid. OK, so you don’t party and, like, do lots of fun stuff on Friday night or Saturday, but believe me, I’ve done all that stuff and it’s not so great. And anyway, God saved my Jewish ass. If God wants me to follow all these rules, then what the heck.
Oh yeah, one more thing; I’m pregnant. Can you believe that? The old King, like, really did get it up–that’s either another miracle or I’m the sexiest girl around. So now he is going to have a Jewish child, and I’m already making plans with Mordechai to make sure the baby is raised as a Jew. And the King’s so thrilled that he was able to father a kid that he goes along with anything I want. I am pure gold around here. You know, Diary, someday they ought to write a book about all of this, but no one would ever believe it.