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I don't like to brag too much about my five soldiers for Jesus, but just today my youngest one, little Israel Regan, made me nearly burst with joy.
While most of the people on my block are decent, upright, but still hellbound folks, the brazen serpent across the street is not. You see, folks, she is a Wickedan; one of those crystal rubbing, Satan worshiping, tree hugging witches who gets together with 12 other lesbo feminists every full moon and has sex with a goat while reciting poetry about how they hate Jesus.
Now I've done everything I can to save this woman's soul. I've called child protective services and reported her for Satanically abusing her kids in the hopes of it being a wake-up call, I've painted Exodus 22:18 on her front door numerous times, when she told me that her cat was a familiar spirit I kindly turned the wraith of my faithful 130 pound Rottie Hans on it and let him rend the demon asunder. When I finally realized my compassion was in vain, I began collecting packing boxes and carefully labeling them for Queerbec Canada and leaving them on her porch. She has yet to take the hint, instead seeking to ooze false friendlieness and trying to be neighborly.
Which brings me to today. It is a wonderful warm day, and I decided to grill outside. The missus is bustling inside making coleslaw and potato salad (pretty much the only salad type foods fit for heterosexual consumption) and I took little Izzy out with me to bond and see how real men cooked their food. I'm minding my own business; humming a hymn and thinking about Jesus when Hans gives a warning growl.
Like the sinister being she is, she approaches me on my left, her latest cat that she calls Powacket or some other heathen gibberish tagging along behind her.
Hellish She-Beast: Howdy!
Me: Mmm.
HS-B: Wonderful day, isn't it?
Me: It was, until a minute ago.
HS-B: (giggles) You're so funny!
Me: Mmm.
HS-B: You're grilling?
Me: Teaching my son. The steaks represent unsaved souls and the fire represents hell.
HS-B: (rolls eyes) You aren't going to feed your little boy that poison, are you?
Me: Hmm?
HS-B: Meat. You aren't going to feed him meat, are you? I mean, look at him, he isn't old enough to be eating that.
Me: I'll have you know that Izzy swallowed a whole pork chop for lunch, and only choked twice. He gets better at it every time he does it, just like we do with shooting a gun or praying.
HS-B: But the human body isn't meant to eat meat. We don't have canines and our guts are too short, and...
Me: GLORY, GLORY, HALLELUJAH! Oh, sorry, sometimes the spirit overcomes me and I burst into song. What were you lying about, again?
HS-B: (Rolls eyes again and sighs) All I'm saying is that if you give the boy an apple and a kitten, he'll eat the apple and pet the kitten. He knows instinctively what he's supposed to eat.
I glanced down at Izzy right then, and a second later her eyes followed mine. I smiled broadly at what I saw, then pulled out my cellphone and snapped a picture.
Me: You were saying?
HS-B: Never mind (blushing) Have a great day.
Me: Burn in hell, leaf munching Satan sucker!
While most of the people on my block are decent, upright, but still hellbound folks, the brazen serpent across the street is not. You see, folks, she is a Wickedan; one of those crystal rubbing, Satan worshiping, tree hugging witches who gets together with 12 other lesbo feminists every full moon and has sex with a goat while reciting poetry about how they hate Jesus.
Now I've done everything I can to save this woman's soul. I've called child protective services and reported her for Satanically abusing her kids in the hopes of it being a wake-up call, I've painted Exodus 22:18 on her front door numerous times, when she told me that her cat was a familiar spirit I kindly turned the wraith of my faithful 130 pound Rottie Hans on it and let him rend the demon asunder. When I finally realized my compassion was in vain, I began collecting packing boxes and carefully labeling them for Queerbec Canada and leaving them on her porch. She has yet to take the hint, instead seeking to ooze false friendlieness and trying to be neighborly.
Which brings me to today. It is a wonderful warm day, and I decided to grill outside. The missus is bustling inside making coleslaw and potato salad (pretty much the only salad type foods fit for heterosexual consumption) and I took little Izzy out with me to bond and see how real men cooked their food. I'm minding my own business; humming a hymn and thinking about Jesus when Hans gives a warning growl.
Like the sinister being she is, she approaches me on my left, her latest cat that she calls Powacket or some other heathen gibberish tagging along behind her.
Hellish She-Beast: Howdy!
Me: Mmm.
HS-B: Wonderful day, isn't it?
Me: It was, until a minute ago.
HS-B: (giggles) You're so funny!
Me: Mmm.
HS-B: You're grilling?
Me: Teaching my son. The steaks represent unsaved souls and the fire represents hell.
HS-B: (rolls eyes) You aren't going to feed your little boy that poison, are you?
Me: Hmm?
HS-B: Meat. You aren't going to feed him meat, are you? I mean, look at him, he isn't old enough to be eating that.
Me: I'll have you know that Izzy swallowed a whole pork chop for lunch, and only choked twice. He gets better at it every time he does it, just like we do with shooting a gun or praying.
HS-B: But the human body isn't meant to eat meat. We don't have canines and our guts are too short, and...
Me: GLORY, GLORY, HALLELUJAH! Oh, sorry, sometimes the spirit overcomes me and I burst into song. What were you lying about, again?
HS-B: (Rolls eyes again and sighs) All I'm saying is that if you give the boy an apple and a kitten, he'll eat the apple and pet the kitten. He knows instinctively what he's supposed to eat.
I glanced down at Izzy right then, and a second later her eyes followed mine. I smiled broadly at what I saw, then pulled out my cellphone and snapped a picture.
Me: You were saying?
HS-B: Never mind (blushing) Have a great day.
Me: Burn in hell, leaf munching Satan sucker!
That sounds absolutely precious! I'm sure the missus was just pleased as punch that you were able to snap a photo! That's one for the fridge!
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