The other night my old fuck bastard neighbor was speaking ill of the Lord. He was going on and on about how much the Lord was out of control and of how afraid of the Lord that he is, “Fuck the Lord.” He continued on for about an hour or so, unfortunately for him my enchanting paramour happened to overhear this old fuck bastard’s tirade when she went out to smoke.
The old fuck bastard neighbor had company over, and felt her presence and her rage coming down at them from above. The visitor, sensing their coming doom, immediately began to soften the words of his host. Minutes later she finished her cigarette and came in to tell me of old fuck bastard’s blasphemy.
We were playing cards with another couple who also knows the Lord, and were deeply offended by the old fuck bastard. So we began to pray. “God who art in the next room watching the Lord use the litter box ‘cause you thought it would be funny to send him back as a puppy, here our plea. Do not strike down the old fuck bastard that plots against the Lord; make it look like an accident.”
We looked up at each other for a moment. “Allow us to be your instrument, just make him fall down some stairs, or off of his bike.”
Satisfied that enough had been said we ended the prayer and began to eat the chicken. Later we decided that we needed more asparagus, so Saint R and I went out to the store.
On the way out we passed by the old fuck bastard and his friend. “How’s it going? Everything cool?” his friend asked us.
I smiled a great big I-want-to-eat-your-lungs-smile and said, “Yes, wonderful and don’t worry, we’ll get the puppy under control sooner or later!” They laughed a very stiff nervous laugh and I did the same. “HA! HA! HA!” (silence) and we continued around the corner.
“That was dark.” Saint R said looking to me for some sign that I wasn’t going to eat old fuck bastard’s lungs.
“I LIKED IT.” God said unto Saint Garion. “That wasn’t any darker than some of the other things that people have done in the name of the Lord, like electing that fool GW.” God continued, “Did you know that he believes the world is coming to an end, so he is trying to hurry it along?”
And Saint Garion spoke unto God, “Yes, that’s old news.”
Saint R wasn’t letting go, “You’re not going to eat that guy’s lungs are you? ‘cause that’s what it fucking looks like…”
“Well at least I’m not GW.” I offered.