Dean Satan and the Christmas Tale of Jimmy the Slug

Once there was a slug.  His name was Jimmy.  He found himself in Dean Satan's garden chewing on some spinach leafs.  Dean Satan loved nutrition and was quite fond of Vitamin A; his nutritional values were graded on a curve, after all.

Jimmy the Slug figured he would live a nice, easy life eating leaves and the occasional carrot.  He had everything he wanted in the garden and in the slug colony.  Food, women, sunshine.  It was peaceful, tranquil, warm.

But as he ate spinach and the sun shone down in his partly cloudy utopia, there suddenly came the reddish orb of Dean Satan's glowing head.  Jimmy the Slug had been warned of Dean Satan by the other slugs- though Dean Satan gave them everything they had, he had a reputation for smiting the poor insects when the mood hit.  Some vermin simply have no gratitude for their betters.

But on this day, Dean Satan showed total compassion.  He picked little Jimmy up from the spinach leaf and held him in his hand.

"Jimmy the Slug," he said.  "How are you doing today?"
Jimmy was so nervous.  Does one tell a dark lord that he is doing well?  That he is enjoying his simple existence, wishing not to beg for Job-like treatment? (if there's one thing most slugs do not want, it is a job.)  "Good, Dean Satan.  You?"
"Jimmy, I'm doing okay, I suppose.  But there's a hole in my heart."

He cradled Jimmy in the palm of his red head and paced about the garden.  Jimmy was sure this was it for him; the Dean had lured bright young Jimmy, Succubus-like, into his smooth arms, only to take what he wished from Jimmy and then discard the squished remains back to the mean and barren dirt near the spinach patch.

"Jimmy, the folks who monitor law school compliance are starting to get upset about bar passage rates and declining LSAT scores.  I'm genuinely concerned that it's leaving a gaping hole in the ability of justice in the United States for lack of diversity."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Jimmy, when is the last time you saw a slug attorney?"
"I don't know that I've ever seen one."
"Don't you think it's important to have diversity in the attorney ranks?  What if someone accused you of a crime?  Wouldn't you feel more comfortable going to a slug?  Wouldn't you feel better seeing slugs well-represented in the professional ranks?"
"But slugs don't have the intellect of humans.  I'm sure if a slug could meet the minimum requirements for entry to the profession, it would be one thing.  But slugs are generally unqualified, I would think."
"God damn it, Jimmy!"

The dean was irate.  How could he make this slug understand the importance of advancing bottom-feeding diversity claims that benefit a small group of people at the expense of almost everyone else?

"Look, we've got a justice problem in the United States, agreed?"
"I don't know.  That's a complicated..."
"Damn it, we do!"  The dean spoke more quickly and his skin turned redder; Jimmy shook nervously, as just a simple feverish squeeze of the dean's mighty hand would end his life immediately.
"Opening the doors of law schools to people with 140 LSATs who are disproportionately minorities is a net positive in the grand justice equation because it advances racial gobbledygook goals!"
"I can agree the profession should better reflect social reality, but the solution is not..."
"Jimmy, you're making this way too complicated!"
"What are you getting at, dean?"

The dean sat down on a nearby bench.  "Jimmy, you probably can't tell because I live in a Mediterranean-style sex pad, but it's Christmas time."
"Christmas?  What's that?"
"Jimmy, that's our winter solstice celebration, a time when we come together and celebrate humanity, and continue our efforts to exploit the less fortunate, but while singing them shit and pushing trinkets in their carts.  It's customary among the humans to give gifts to each other."
"Like a birthday celebration?"
"No," the dean snapped, "there's no birthday celebration at Christmas!"

They sat in silence for a few moments, each pondering the meaning of Christmas.  Then Jimmy the slug cautiously broke the silence.  "Golly, Dean Satan, now you have me feeling guilty."
"But why is that, Jimmy the Slug?"
"Well, you give me and the other slugs so much throughout the year in the vegetable garden.  I mean - sure - you spray insecticide every now and then like a genocidal maniac, but for most of us it's a good life.  Ad yet I have nothing to give you in return!"

The dean smiled devilishly.  He knew he had picked up a smart slug.  "Oh, but you do, Jimmy!"
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The LSAT folks had been befuddled by the disability accommodation request, but it was nothing compared to the skepticism of the admissions folks.

"Satan, baby, he's not only got a 132 LSAT, he's a mollusk, for Pete's sake."
"Why are you being so damned species-ist?"

Through the force of his sheer will, Dean Satan got Jimmy the Slug admitted to his law school.  After all, who was going to stop him?  That archangel Aba, tasked with monitoring his every malfeasance, basically went into hibernation.  And getting the government to back a loan to "James Slug" was remarkably easy.

His faculty was confused trying to educate a slug, but kept at it, and every wrote articles about the value of diversity in legal education.  Some prostitutes have little quality control, you know.

Three years later, Jimmy the Slug slithered across the stage, proudly accepting his diploma from a giddy Dean Satan.  The only hurdle on Jimmy's open road to riches was the Krampus-y oligarchs running the bar exam.

"I'm sorry, Dean Satan, but Jimmy the Slug scored a 2 on the bar exam."
"You test is racist!" Dean Satan roared.

But then he calmed down.  Yelling was no way to solve problems.  He would write letters, and sue if he must!  All the other law deans with their low-scoring slugs joined him in a powerful chorus, and their song caused the bar examiners' icy hearts to swell three times that day!

After their massive coronaries, there were no bar exams left.  No barriers of entry to Jimmy the Slug's greatness.  And so Jimmy the Slug went on to run a successful workman's compensation practice.

One day, many years later, Jimmy the Slug ran into Dean Satan.  "Dean," he said, "I'm still not sure what I gave you for Christmas that year."
"Jimmy," the dean said, "you gave me the greatest gift of all."

The dean took another sip of wine.  "Now tell me, how fast do slugs reproduce?"

Merry Christmas, most of you.  Remember this holiday season that you can help the less fortunate...by sending them a law school application.  And that includes anyone, no matter how stupid or totally non-human.  If Jimmy the Slug can do it, you can, too!