They’re not the traditional Debbie cookie, but the Great Saban would be pleased with the originality of this confection:

Saban’s Straw Hat Cookies

From the Book of Davis:

“Far in the North dwelt a haggard old general, once renown for his great prowess in battle.  Like so many others, he had forsook his own men for an army of mercenaries, and never again did he regain his former splendor.  Rich was his name, but poor were his coffers of victory.

Word reached this grizzled general that spoke of a rising power to the south.  ‘The Dark Lord returns!’ the messengers cried.  ‘If he is not stopped, surely he shall cover these lands with his shadow!’  The general knew that his men were not ready, and he knew that chances were slim, but he said, ‘I shall take this challenge.  No army of Black could defeat him, but my army clad all in blue shall show the world that his greatness is still but legend!’  And with this, he set off on a long journey.

Through many hardships he toiled, until he came at last to a decrepit tent on the outskirts of a once great city.  The great temple there was collapsed, and only sparks jumped from where once great torches had blazed.  ‘Rupp help me!” he cried.  ‘This is the city of the Athenian Hound!’  And he grew very afraid, and he ran into the tent for shelter.  Therein lie a shell of a man.  Hollow were his cheeks, but golden brown was his skin.  ‘Great General,’ sighed the man, knowingly, ‘I know why you have come hither.  You seek to question me about my past battle with the Dark Lord.  You wish to know how to climb The Mountain and claim victory at its peak.  You seek to make the Great Youth look like a mere child.  But hear me now, O Great General of the North, greater than you have tried, and greater than you have fallen, for even Saints bow to him in the end.’

And with this, the general retreated back into the cold night, and he began his journey home, and he vowed never to tell his men what he had heard.”

Great Saban, we thank you for your merciless destruction of our latest foe.  May their tears of inconsolable sadness water the roots of your malcontent.

From The Great Tome of Saban, the Book of the Process:

“And the Army of Saban traveled east until they reached the realm of the Athenian Hound, and upon arriving they came to a great field around which gnarled vines marked the dominion of The Saint.  And The Saint came forward, and with him he brought the Great Kangaroo, and he screamed, ‘Your time is nigh, Saban!  My men come shrouded in black, and black shall be your dreams, and great shall be your despair.’ The Dark Lord did not flinch, but said, ‘Then make it so.’  With this, he sent forward his Army.

The Great Youth stepped to the front, and he said to his brothers, ‘Follow me,’ and verily, they followed.  The Mountain then stepped forward and said, ‘Let the Great Kangaroo come forth, for no man can leap over that which stretches to both horizons.’  The Dark Lord’s infantry pushed through black shrouds like the wind through the trees.  Attack after attack went without answer, as the defenses the Great Saban had put into place were impenetrable.  His tactics were beyond reproach, and while The Saint clutched to a glimmering bit of hope, The Great Youth stepped forward and crushed it asunder.

Midway through the great battle, The Saint called forward the Great Kangaroo, and he said, ‘Oh leaper of men and hurdler of trees, you must return to the battlefield and turn the Tide; replace with black waters that which runs Crimson with our blood.’  And the Great Kangaroo cowered, and he said meekly, “I cannot do this.  My body is battered.’  And The Saint replied, ‘But you walk!  And you stand without aid!  If you can stand, can you not fight while the battle is not yet lost?’  And the Great Kangaroo spat, and he said, ‘Fool, don’t you see?  This battle was lost before even I donned my armor.’  And The Saint fell to his knees, for he knew the Great Kangaroo spoke the truth.

And when the battle was done, The Great Saban came to his men, yet no smile crossed his vengeful lips.  No joy was found in his eyes, but rather fiery rage burned from within his soul.  ‘My sons, think not that I am not proud of what you have done.  You have met a great foe, and you have left them crawling from our wake.  But neither think your Dark Lord satisfied with what we have done relative to the way we did it.  Did any man here strike a foe twice before he fell?  Then you must work until you need but strike him once.  Did any man here fell three foes?  Then you must work until you fell thirty.  Did any man here stop his foe before he crossed ten yards of this hallowed ground?  Then work until next time he fears to even take a step.  Forget not what I have told you:  enjoy today for the setting of one sun and the rising of one moon.  And then, my sons, thirsty for batle must we become again.’

And as the Great Saban finished, he heard a whimpering voice behind him.  He turned, and it was The Saint, whose eyes showed no light.  And he asked, ‘Oh, Great Saban…tell me please…how came you by such great power?’  And Saban said, ‘Through The Process.’  And he spat on The Saint, and The Saint thanked him for it.”

Mighty and unmerciful Saban, the day of battle is upon us.  Your loyal followers ready themselves to annoint themselves with the cheapest of Kentucky Sour Mash, and the barbecuest of pork rinds.  We know that the battle before us is fraught with many hardships.  We know that our troops do battle on unfriendly ground.  We know the prowess of the foes that guard that doorstep.  We shall stand with you until the last horn sounds, oh Dark Lord of the Gridiron, destroyer of hopes and devourer of dreams.  May your Army be strong, and may all they do be Aight in your sight.

A friendly follower of the Athenian Hound recently asked us for a brief history of the Church of Saban.  This was a worthy question, and The Council and I decided that it deserved more than a token response.

The Great Tome of Saban gives us little information on the origins of the Dark Lord.  The information we do have has been passed down through oral legend, songs, ritualistic dances, and paintings on rudimentary coffee mugs.

The founding of the Church of Saban is shrouded in mystery.  Ancient legend tells us that, when the world was young, and cavemen rode dinosaurs across the great plains during their great hunts of the tuberville-eared tiger, Chuck Norris walked long through the hills of what is now West Virginia.  Coming upon a coal mine, he was smitten, and he expressed his love for the coal mine physically (as was the custom of the time).  Nine months later, covered in goal dust, and wearing a straw hat and naught else, our Dark Lord emerged.  Twelve were his fingers, and fourteen were his toes.  He knelt low to the ground, and he picked up a great boulder, and from it he fashioned the world’s first football (using only his teeth).  It was in this way that he also invented the world’s first toothache.

Throughout the ages, he studied the ways of gridiron battle.  He hid in the trees near many of the world’s greatest battles, and he analyzed how the tactics of manifold great generals could be used to dominate his future opponents.  He invented the zone blitz after watching Alexander the Great simultaneously pull back the end flanks of his infantry while rushing his cavalry forward up the center.  He was traveling in what is now China when gunpowder was first invented…when he saw this, he was inspired to create the shotgun snap.  He told General Pickett to play conservatively, and thus felt he had done all he could do when Pickett’s all-out-blitz was destroyed by a masterfully executed middle screen by the Union.

Through all this time, the Dark Lord gained power, and he was chosen to serve under great generals.  The Disheveled One chose him to command the defenses of his army of mercenaries, and the renown of Saban grew great.  Eventually, he decided it was time to raise his own army, and though their numbers seemed paltry, their success was great.  He soon went north to raise a larger army, and under his guidance it has been said that they slew giants like they had never before done.  However, their battles lacked the epic scale that he so thirsted for.  Thus he sailed the Great River until he reached its mouth,  and there he made camp and raised an army the likes of which few had seen.  So terrible were their powers that soon none could stand with them, and they were known as the champions of the land.

Shortly after this time, word of the Great Saban seemingly vanishes.  It is told among the elder members of the Council, all learned in Sabanic lore, that he ventured even farther south, and there he made camp with mercenaries that has already been accumulated for his anticipated arrival.  However, this army brought him no joy.  He found his men fought only for money, and for fame, and for the wenches that lingered long around the battlefields.  He pined for the chance to once again raise his own forces…forces that would fight only for the glory of the Dark Lord and his great cause.

And thus it came to pass that word spread across the lands about the shell of a once great army that had of late seen many dark days.  And an Oracle came to Saban, and he prophesied, “Great Saban, there is a river called the River of Warriors, and its waters run as black as your heart.  Go to this place, and there you shall find that which you seek.”  The Dark Lord replied, “Aight.”  And thus he traveled north, and word spread of his coming, and sayers of sooth and purveyors of lies told many tales about his arrival.  Some said that he had intended to come for many moons; others doubted that he would come at all.  But alas, he did come, and the followers of the once great army rejoiced and greeted him at the gate of the city.

It is here that the words of the Great Tome of Saban continues the story.  As soon as he arrived, a few of the faithful rallied to spread the lessons that he came to teach across the land.  Alas, I was one of these, and my brethren in Saban and I created the Council of the Straw Hat to better study his ways and grow learned in his wisdom.  We soon decided that his great and terrible message would be too complex for the masses to learn without guidance, and thus the Church of Saban was formed to distill his knowledge and deliver it to his followers.

That mission continues to this very day.

From the Book of Foes:

“And in the days when the Eagle spread his wings over the plains, and much turmoil was caused by his shadow, and much wine was consumed by the man who made the Eagle spread, and his face knew not a razor, word came to the Dark Lord about the rising black cloud to the East.  The Saint formed his army, and he called to the greatest of his warriors, The Great Kangaroo, and said to him, ‘Make ready your brethren.  We shall lure the Dark Lord to our homeland and here we shall smite him.  His Dark wrath shall shatter on our dusky robes.’  And the Great Kangaroo lept from the tent, and he then lept over a colonel, and he then lept over the Athenian Hound, and he made ready his brethren.

And the Solicitor Timothy wrote to the Great Saban, and he told him of this gathering cloud, and it was written, ‘And it was seen that the Great Saban, too, was clothed in black. And his army, and their followers, were at ease.’  But on the third evening before the battle, the Dark Lord laid down his ebony raiment, and he donned his grey battle vest, and he came before his followers, and he delivered unto them these words: ‘My children, great is the opponent who stands before us.  Great are their generals, greater are their warriors.  Never have I lied to you, and verily, I lie not to you now.  Their greatness precedes them, but your greatness lies ahead!  Often have the strong fallen before the weak; now the strong shall fall before those whose power grows with every passing week.  Blessed shall be our front line troops, shall they shall lay the foundation of our victory.  Blessed is The Mountain, for his roots run far deeper than the youth that awaits him.  Blessed is The Great Youth, for he shall outshine the one they say matches his greatness.  And cursed are those in black armor, as their mortal blood still runs Crimson in their veins.’  And the Armies of Saban took heart, and they doubted not the fate that lay before them.”

Brothers and Sisters in Saban,

I bring before you a most pleasurable read, delivered unto our church by one of our flock.  Normally I would not trust your Sabanic education to someone outside of the Sabanic clergy; however, this comment was so excellent that duty requires me to present it to you.  It is both true and fearful for those who oppose our Dark Lord.  It comes from Lawboy, a Child of Saban who is blessed in the Dark Lord’s eyes:

A letter from the solicitor Timothy:

In the days before the great clash, which was to occur at sundown, the troops of the fair haired general appeared before him and spoke: “General, may we dress in dusky robes so as to confuse the army of the Great Saban.” And the general made a covenant with his troops to cast aside their vestements and don robes of black during battle. And much hope was placed in these clothes, for they had curried favor with the gods in earlier battles.

As the news spread across the lands, there was much commotion. And some in the lands of the Great Saban were vexed. And on the day after the covenant, the Great Saban appeared. And it was seen that the Great Saban, too, was clothed in black. And his army, and their followers, were at ease.

From the Book of the Process:

“After the final horn had sounded, and the final drum was beaten, the great general surveyed his troops, upon seeing their anguish he fell to his knees, and he wept.  ’What hath the Dark Lord wrought?’ he cried.  ’Has this man no mercy?’  Just then, the Great Saban walked up to him, and seeing his weeping, he urinated upon him.  As he did this, he said, ‘Now you comprehend the extent of my greatness.  Do not weep, child, for it is not worth crying over that which you cannot change.  You tried to follow my path, but you are no more than a shadow of my shadow.  Your image pales to my identity.  Your men lack competitive spirit.  I am much larger than you relative to our manhood.’

And the Dark Lord came to his men, and he told him, ‘My sons, the foe we fought today were not fit to unwrap my Debbie cookie in the morning.  But a challenge awaits us that is a more challenging challenge relative to how we are challenged during the challenging challenge.  Our performance must be sustained, and our desire must be greater.  Follow my way, the The Great Kangaroo will jump no longer.’”