Under-Insured Biblical Bad Guy

Imagine, if you will, that it’s the day after the Exodus. Rameses is on the phone with his insurance agent. Yes, I know when the telephone was invented; that’s why I asked you to imagine. Besides, after what Rameses has been through lately, a telephone is not going to surprise him.

Of course, we can only hear one side of the conversation. (I asked Bob Newhart to type the part of the agent, but he was busy working on another story.)

We listen in on the agent’s end:

Yes, Mister Pharaoh, good to hear from you. I was just going over your claim here and there are just one or two little items that need clarification.

Now, this Mister Zizz—how do you spell his name? M-O-S-E-S. So the M and the O are silent? That’s his first name? I thought his first name was Moe. Well it says here, "Mo-zizz!" Oh, that’s how you say it when you’re sincerely and in all ways pissed. Very well.

Tell me about this magic stick. No, I’m not denying the value; I can see where those would be hard to come by. I’m just not clear as to what happened to your magic stick. Mister Zizz’es magic stick ate your magic stick? Hmm. Let me just make a quick note of that.

Alrighty. I’m not sure we’ll be able to allow that, Mister Pharaoh, but the good news is that your policy does cover acts of God. Yes, we’re all pretty excited about it.

Let’s see here: flaming hailstones, plague of locusts, swarming frogs, flies, boils, gnats, pestilence, darkness, smiting of the firstborn—no doubt acts of God. I mean, who else would do that, right? My question—and something the guys in the claims department were curious about—is why didn’t you just let those people go after your water turned to blood?

Because God hardened your heart. Mm-hmm. I’m afraid we will have to call that a preexisting condition. Well, because God has been here since before the beginning of time, that’s why. Surely you are in no mood to argue that. Therefore, we cannot be sure at what point in time your heart condition developed—this hardening of the arteries. I beg your pardon? Not just the arteries? Hardening of the whole thing…(low whistle). You did not indicate that on your application.

Mm-hmm. There seems to be a discrepancy: It says here that just a few days earlier all your livestock were killed. I’m having a hard time visualizing your army, storming out across the desert in chariots pulled by dead horses. Would have been quicker to walk, one would think.

Somehow you got some new ones? Okay, even if I play along on that one, exactly what was your entire army doing in the Red Sea? (stifled chuckle) Chasing God’s Chosen People. I see. And what idiot told ‘em to do that? (holding the phone away from his ear) Look, Mister Pharaoh, we’re not in Egypt. We’re in Nebraska, and you have no jurisdiction here, so don’t threaten me, okay?

Well, we’re just trying to get to the bottom of all this. Calm down. Better now? Alright. Mister Pharaoh, we’re not going to be able to cover that. That doesn’t sound like an act of God; that sounds like an act of lunacy. Even if we were charitable and called it accidental drowning, you’re still not covered.

Yeah, that’s the best I can do. Okay. Nice talking to you too. And—yeah—look, before you go: if anything like this ever happens again, just let the people go, will ya? Save us all a lot of trouble. Sure. I’ll tell ‘em you said hello. Best to the family.

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