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  • Sheriff Richards Busts Up Satanic Cult Operating out of local Haunted House

    Friends in Christ Jesus, if I wasn't a manly man Officer of the Law, I would absolutely dread Halloween. There is always tension in Freehold this time of year, and the police are taught to prepare for the worst on ghastly occasions such as Halloween.

    Last night, I basically crawled through Hell to save your children from the Devil's army, and this is my story:

    I hit the streets early Halloween evening, because I like to get to the scene of the crime before the crime actually takes place. But it seems depraved unsaved families don't even wait until dark anymore to let loose their fat young children dressed up as abominations unto God Almighty to waddle the streets, harassing homeowners for free candy.

    I saw one house handing out Bibles instead of candy to the little demons, so I felt a surge of relief that God was at work all over the neighborhood, and that I would not be alone in this fight.

    I looked back at the road just in time to hit my breaks before I flattened a little horned devil crossing the street. He's lucky I didn't run over him, because if that pointy tail he was wearing had punctured my tire, his family would be liable to fix the county's property.

    I immediately screamed at the little boy in the devil costume through my loud speaker: "Attention, devil child! Use a crosswalk next time, punk!"

    The young satanic visage in front of my cruiser yelled something back at me, and pointed his pitchfork at the stop sign, and then quickly sprinted the rest of the way across the street. I would've jumped out and tackled him, but my eye had caught something that I hadn't noticed on this particular stop sign before. On the post to which the sign was mounted was a piece of cardboard, secured in place with a piece of duct tape. The cardboard two words written across it in black marker in a child's handwriting: "HAUNTED HOUSE."

    At first I was furious that somebody had the nerve to tape their cardboard to city property, but my anger turned to apprehension as I contemplated what the words meant. Beneath the writing was an arrow pointing in the very direction that the little red devil was merrily skipping. What a queer.

    Slowly, I began to follow him, being ever so careful to avoid alerting his suspicions. Only the very elite of law enforcement can remain camouflaged while operating a police car, but I am the best there is. The little red devil kept walking, never stopping at any of the houses he passed for candy. He was leading me exactly where I wanted to go.

    Within just minutes, I saw my target... Assembled on somebody's front lawn was a terrible structure made out of cardboard boxes, sheets, tarps, and old scraps of wood, and a whiteboard sign with "HAUNTED HOUSE ADMISSION: $5" scrawled in red letters hung above the draped towel that served as the entrance to this den of Satan. The structure wasn't actually monstrous in size, but it was horrible in appearance and construction. I mean this thing could've been on the front page of Better Homes and Nigger Shacks. There were strands of orange Halloween lights wrapped all over it, plastic witches peeking out of windows, and the entire thing was surrounded by plastic gravestones.

    I sat in my cruiser utterly stunned. How did a grotesque monument to Satan arise within the middle of a good Christian town such as ours? How many children would flock here tonight to give their five dollars and their very souls to the Devil?

    The particular devil I had been tracking disappeared quickly into the haunted house, and I realized that now was the time for action. Unfortunately, I didn't have any tear gas grenades to launch through the window of the haunted house, so I would instead have to use infiltration. This would prove quite challenging, because the highest part of the haunted house rose to no more than about five feet off the ground. But I'm an Officer of the Law! I can crawl with the best of children.

    I parked my cruiser around the block, and jumped into the back seat to quickly change into a pair of my undercover street clothes which I store in the vehicle at all times in case I need to make an emergency infiltration.

    Within ten minutes I looked like the average Joe on the street, except under my clothes, I was packing a .45 caliber handgun, pepper spray, a tazer, several pairs of handcuffs, a cigarette lighter used for burning evil books, a flashlight, and a massive wad of my dirty socks that have been riding in the back of my patrol car for weeks.

    I casually walked back around the corner, and said a quick prayer to Jesus Christ for protection when the haunted house came into my sight. The sun was quickly ducking behind the rooftops of the neighborhood, and I prayed to Jesus for protection against Satan's forces. I could now hear several young voices coming from the haunted house. There were unholy giggles and screams rising up into the night air from within, and I did a quick equipment check to make sure I had everything before reaching the point of no return.

    Fortunately, there was no line to get in. I would've felt stupid standing in a line full of kids to get into a cardboard haunted house.

    I took out my five dollars, got down on my hands and knees, and crawled inside.

    It was very dark, but sitting in front of me was a kid in a skeleton mask who demanded my five dollars. I handed it to him, and he stuffed it down a mayonnaise jar and pointed to a doorway on my right.

    "Before I go on," I asked, "I want to know if it's going to be scary."

    "Oh yes, it will be scary!" He said with his best maniacal laughter. (Which was still not very good.)

    "Oh no!" I gasped. "I won't see any witches, will I?"

    "Oh yes, you will see witches!" He cackled.

    "That IS scary," I said. "But not as scary as the burning HELL into which you and all your little friends will be cast by the LORD JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY for operating a Satanic cult right in His favorite town!"

    As I expected, the little skeleton backed away from me and began screaming, but I snatched the mask off his face, and I grabbed him with one arm and got him into a headlock, and with the other arm I quickly whipped out one of my dirty socks and stuffed it into his mouth. I slapped the cuffs on his wrists and stuffed him into a corner and told him not to go away or he'd go to jail for evading police.

    Then I held his plastic skull mask in front of his face and snapped it in half, and quoted 1 Thessalonians 5:22: Abstain from all appearance of evil.

    I had apprehended the first of these dangerous lunatics, but there were still more further in, and perhaps they even had taken some innocent Christian child hostage, and were preparing to sacrifice it to their Dark Lord! I quickly inched along on my hands and knees through the doorway the skeleton boy had first bidden me to enter, but I got my foot all tangled up in some extension cord.

    "I bet you didn't even call the fire department to come inspect the establishment for fire hazards, did you punk?" I said to the whiny little kid in the corner as I untangled my foot.

    Now, I am a cop who is sometimes referred to by angry lawbreakers as a "lard ass," but the real truth of the matter is that I am just muscular. The doorway I was supposed to squeeze through was entirely too small to accommodate my body, but that's because it was built for kids, not because I am fat.

    At any rate, I found myself stuck midway through the opening, and I thought that maybe some of the tactical items under my belt were caught on the doorway. Still, I could feel either side of the cardboard door pressed in against my hips, and I realized that because I am not fat, the reason I am stuck must be that Satan's angels were actually trying to crush me to death by supernaturally compressing the cardboard door frame into me!

    "GET YE BEHIND ME, SATAN!" I shouted as I scrambled to escape the Devil's trap! I thrashed and kicked and drew my nightstick and started smashing the wall behind me, and just as I knew He would, God delivered me. My behind popped through the doorway and I landed safely on my stomach in the next room, praise Him! Of course this haunted house didn't have an actual floor, so that meant I now had grass stains on my nice undercover clothes. I got up on my knees and looked around the room. It was entirely black in here. I had lost all sense of space.

    I know how these little urchins like to do. They like to hide in the dark and scare you, but I had a surprise for Satan and his kiddies tonight. I whipped out my flashlight and it lit up the room like the Second Coming. In the corner was a little girl in a witch's hat, and she was holding a broom.

    "Hi there," I said as I waved at her with one hand.

    The witch didn't respond, because they're all hateful and rude harlots of Satan, of course.

    I stopped waving and put my hand down, and felt a rock in the grass. An obvious safety hazard for which this blasphemous coven would have to be fined heavily, but also an opportunity to teach.

    "Do you know what this is?" I asked, as I grabbed the rock and held it up in the beam of my flashlight for her to see.

    "It's a rock!" I said, with a True Christian smile.

    I tucked my flashlight under my arm and took out my pocket Bible with my free hand, and presented it to the girl.

    "Do you know what this is?" I asked again, holding the Bible in the light.

    "It's a Bible! The item in this hand, the Bible, says I can throw the item in my OTHER hand at you over and over again until you DIE, because you're a GOD DAMNED WITCH!"

    The little whore of Satan began to shriek, and I slapped the witch's hat off her head and yanked another one of my trusty socks out of my back pocket. As quickly as it had started, the shrieking stopped, and the air in the room was now filled with nothing but the aroma of my dirty laundry.

    Now that she was cuffed, gagged, and unable to run, I thought this would be the perfect time to share with her the good news of Jesus Christ: "Did you know that God gave up His only Son, Jesus Christ, to die on a cross to forgive you for the sin of being a witch?"

    She was starting to cry and I just hate that, so I decided to move to the next room, but not before I wrote her a big fat ticket for threatening an Officer of the Law with a deadly weapon. (The broom.)

    As I crawled under the sheet into the next chamber, my mouth fell agape and my heart began racing faster. I had entered the inner sanctum of this cultish dungeon of horrors, and found myself face to face with their arch demon: An 8 year-old boy in a turban sitting behind an Ouija board!

    "Come forward," he spoke, "and I will tell you your future!"

    I crawled forward, but my eyes never lost contact with the Ouija board. I breathed a silent prayer for God to surround me with His angels, that I might be protected from the sorcery of this infernal device from the black depths of Toys R Us.

    Finally, I came to a stop directly in front of the Devil's board game, and I could hear nothing but the sound of my own heart beating in my ears. The silence was cut by the shrill voice of the little terrorist psychic in front of me: "Now, I will read you the future!"

    He began to reach for the planchette which was resting upon the Ouija board, and judging by the turban on his head, I didn't know if I should expect a demon to be hiding under the board, or a bomb.

    "Stop!" I yelled, just before he touched the planchette. "I'll read YOUR future!"

    The little kid just looked at me and blinked a couple times, and then, begging forgiveness from God in my mind, I put my hand on the wicked planchette. The little boy leaned in, and read aloud as the planchette moved from letter to letter: "J... A... I... L..."

    He looked back up at me, and I was ready for him. I blasted his evil little face with pepper spray and yanked out another one of my socks to stuff in his mouth, but he began to scramble away! He slid under the blanket into the next room, but I crawled after him in hot pursuit on my hands and knees. I ripped the blanket out of my way, and there he was, curled up on the ground, rubbing his eyes and crying about how he couldn't see. Well of course he couldn't see, it was a haunted house at night. Duh.

    I pounced on top of him and began cuffing him, and screaming over his screams, I said: There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch. -Deuteronomy 18:10

    Suddenly, I felt something pointy poke me in the hindquarters, and I turned my head back to see a familiar little red devil poking me with his pitchfork and shrieking for me to let his friend go.

    "Homosexual rapist!" I shouted, as I lunged towards the red devil who attempted to sodomize me with a pitchfork. I slapped the cuffs on his wrist and shouted in his ear, "I am placing you under arrest for attempted homosexualization of an Officer of the Law, and for nearly making me run over you with a police car!"

    The sound of their screams pierced my ear drums, and my throat was burning from my own screams of Godly justice, and the entire room seemed to reel around us. This house of the Devil was beginning to collapse in on itself. It could no longer stand the light of God's presence, and the demons who held it together were fleeing! From all over the tiny house of iniquity, I could hear the sound of children screaming and running away, as tarps were undone and cardboard buckled, but my voice was loudest as it rang out: Therefore this iniquity shall be to you as a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high wall, whose breaking cometh suddenly at an instant. -Isaiah 30:13

    I gave the wall closest to me a swift kick with my boot, and praise Jesus, it collapsed like a freshly tazered negro. I scrambled out from underneath the sheets, and emerged into the night air to see the blessed sight of police cars pulling up to the curb, and crowds of people running from all directions to see what the commotion was all about. Everywhere I looked, mothers were sweeping their children into their arms, bags of candy were being dropped by trick or treaters, and people were walking out onto their porches to gawk.

    I raised my arms to greet the crowd of townsfolk in front of me, and called out triumphantly, saying, "Don't worry folks, everything is under control. I know it looks like a war zone, but it's only the power of Christ at work!"

    My fellow officers ran up to me and I explained everything that happened as we hauled the cuffed and gagged cultists from their collapsed compound. After we dragged out what I am pretty sure was the last of the suspects from underneath the ruins, I took out my cigarette lighter and read from Holy Scripture: And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire; and ye shall hew down the graven images of their gods, and destroy the names of them out of that place. -Deuteronomy 12:3

    With that, I reverently closed my pocket Bible, bent down, and set fire to the sheet that had concealed the inner workings of a Satanic cult of children who had been ensnared into the occult by popular movies, games and books, and whose only intention was to ensnare the souls of other children for the price of five dollars.

    In case you're wondering, yes, I did rescue the mayonnaise jar and get my five bucks back before I burnt what was left of the place.
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  • #2
    Re: Sheriff Richards Busts Up Satanic Cult Operating out of local Haunted House

    That's some nice work, Officer Don.

    Maybe these kids need to visit Landover's Hell House?
    Bible boring? Nonsense!
    Try Bible in a Year with Brother V, or join Shirlee and the kids as they discuss Real Bible Stories!
    You can't be a Christian if you don't know God's Word!


    • #3
      Re: Sheriff Richards Busts Up Satanic Cult Operating out of local Haunted House

      My blood turned cold at the gruesome experience you had to suffer, Officer. Your courage whilst under seige by beelzebub's minions is truly an example to us all.

      If only the English 'bobbies' had a fraction of your zeal and common sense, Britain might be a less godless island. God bless you, Brother.