Nobody knows how the pagan fetish came to be in my family's possession. My father claims that Great Uncle Zebedee, a legendary prankster and part-time anthropologist, brought it back from the South Sea Islands in order to frighten his delicate wife, Great Aunt Elspeth. There is another story, of unknown provenance, that Zebedee's brother, Great Uncle Aloysius, discovered the pagan fetish during a walking tour of neolithic sites in northern Spain, slyly secreting the trophy in his trousers - a deception causing much commotion amongst female members of the tour - instead of bringing its existence to the attention of proper archeological authorities. Personally, I think both theories are equally plausible, but tend to agree with my grandmother that the fetish was actually purchased from an antiquities dealer in Cairo by Great Aunt Ethel, Aloysius' second wife, who mistakenly believed it to be a decorative Egyptian cucumber.
In fact, you may already be familiar with the pagan fetish since it has appeared on television many times, as an item of curiosity on both The Antiques Roadshow and Bravo's Disturbing Household Objects, and as a significant prop in several episodes of Playboy Channel's late-night drama Jungle Vixen. During one one of these broadcasts an appraiser from Sotheby's examined our heirloom, telling us that the pagan fetish might fetch somewhere in the region of three hundred dollars at auction, although a slight but visible area of chafing damage might knock a little of the price. For the sake of the cameras, we pretended to be surprised and pleased with this valuation, but were actually extremely disappointed, my cousin Hubert falling into a terrible rage and swearing to "snap the beastly thing in half." Fortunately we were able to restrain him. After all, God knows what awful and ancient curses might fall upon the heads of any who defile a pagan fetish, even if it isn't worth very much money.
The pagan fetish is standing upright on my mantelpiece as I write these words, casting an ominous shadow over a porcelain shepherdess. It is my turn to be custodian for the duration, since the pagan fetish is passed around from hand to hand every year, rather like an embarrassingly lewd baton in a never-ending relay race. Such is the nature of kinship and inheritance.
