I begged her, appealing to all her sense of charity and she promised to deal with me later.
She did tell me, however, to share the withheld dispatch immediately.
I saw the awesome throne and I was scared. As I entered the room, some guy in medieval priestly clothes had just gotten thundered at and was being assisted away by two muscular dudes in a smart uniform
Yea, it was lights, power and action – lights so bright that I could not see who sat on the seemingly endless glory seat; I just surmised that whoever did must realize how much sucking up he deserved from whatever else was in existence; I mean, the super guy was definitely worthy of all receivables – I’d have totally given him all my salary as tax returns if he had demanded it while I was alive.
Suddenly, a timeless looking man came out of all the oppressive glory. Fashionistas from my side of existence had nothing on him.”I think ten percent was fair enough tax?” He said with a little laugh. I fell on my face because I knew I was done for, realizing the fate that had befallen the priest before me. “You managed fairly well” He continued, “Give him an A+”, he called out to whoever kept score.
“But I..” I started as a protest to the undeserved pass mark I had just been awarded. I remembered going to church only on Christmas, New Years and random special ceremonies, every once in a while; being passively nice when it suited me and just living as a jack BEEP most of the time. (Here it seemed even my thoughts were censored).
I started toying with that impressive PG feature of the holy land,
“jack BEEP “,
“BEEP you”, “BEEP me”, “BEEP the…”
“Silence!” he thundered, eyes flaming red and blue inward like a living fire.
“One would think you were beginning to realize what this experience is really all about”
I cowered in fear.
“You children with your modern habits of free thinking insolence wrought on you by your democratic creches”
“I love you nonetheless”
“You scored an A+ because it’s either that or an F and it’s quite unfortunate that most of you can’t seem to get past an E-. Even your most recent spiritual geniuses only manage a D-”.
“Abraham, Moses, Paul, Ghandi et al, brilliant kids they are…”
I was about to ask what their report cards originally scored before the upgrade but I was too terrified to even look up.
“C-” I heard.
“Your goodness by me is like filthy rags but you’re my kids nonetheless”
I kind of understood as He continued with an affectionate bias.
“And what kind of father would I be not to clean you up”
I was a fool to had given up on creationism.
“Your books don’t answer every question as your inquisitive minds would appreciate but with time I would teach you what is and what is not”
“The first thing I usually teach is that I AM”. The “I AM” was pregnant.
I saw one of those yam-armed dudes approach me with the same priestly garments as the last guy
“And because you ever doubted me, You would have to put that on for a long long time.” He pointed to the ominous cassock.
I had been taught that over here, a thousand years was a day.
I looked far off somewhere to the right and BEEP! Good ol’ Abe was looking good in his heavenly attire with celestial bling, head gear and what not; My garment-to-be was a dead, patched up rag, up-close.
“Here, have your righteousness, censored to preserve some of your dignity”
“Take him away!”