biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

felren13:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

an atheist ghost. they refuse to move on to the afterlife on the grounds that the afterlife does not and should not exist

they only respond to ouija board summonings in order to lecture people for participating in non-evidence-based belief systems

exorcisms dont work cause they dont believe in them.

“yeah sure I could ‘go into the light’ as you so eloquently put it, but let’s be analytical about this. worst-case scenario, the afterlife is real and I get cast into some version of Hell for being a nonbeliever. slightly better-case scenario, it’s a reincarnation-based afterlife, which means I end up having to do the whole Existence thing all over again, which frankly seems like a huge roll of the dice. enormously risky, given the low quality of life many people experience, and that’s setting aside philosophical issues of identity, e.g. without the memories and experiences that shaped me, would I even still technically exist as a version of myself I could identify? reincarnation aside, let’s bear in mind there’s no actual evidence there’s even a so-called ‘afterlife’ waiting on the other side–for all we know, my consciousness will just dissolve into nonexistence. again, huge roll of the dice. and even in the best-case scenario? wherein I somehow pass an Arbitrary Morality Test I didn’t sign up for and get accepted into some sort of magical Heaven or whatever? well. consider it from my point of view. all of a sudden I’d be a member of a strange and unfamiliar society, subject to a completely new set of rules and regulations that I probably don’t get a say in. Is ‘Heaven’ a democracy? will I still have access to free will? will I have meaningful choices regarding lifestyle and occupation? what do the holy books say about that, huh? I could be forced to spend a literal eternity worshiping a deity who has made some extremely questionable and problematic decisions regarding the universe. I’m not signing up for that! how is that any better than my current situation? listen buddy, I spent 80 years living in a capitalist hellhole before death Itself finally freed me from all the obligations and restrictions of modern existence. I don’t work, I don’t pay rent or taxes, I just wander from place to place keeping my own schedule, doing my own thing, beholden to neither laws nor peer pressure. as purgatories go, that’s a pretty sweet deal! and what guarantee do I have that any damned afterlife is going to be more tolerable than my current not-existence, huh? none! none whatsoever. skeptic? damn right I’m skeptic! not to mention this whole Heaven-and-Hell dichotomy seems extremely manipulative if not outright abusive, as moral systems go. that’s no way to parent a species! nope. just, nope. this whole religious afterlife nonsense sounds like a whole lot of unnecessary stress and risk. I’m perfectly comfortable staying right where I am, thanks ever so, so you can tell your exorcist to write that out in latin and shove it up his ass”


Tags:

#yeah that’s fair #story ideas I will never write #storytime #ghosts #religion #hell cw #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what

birdblogwhichisforbirds:

My brother, listen, do not be afraid.
I have descended into Hell to talk
About forgiveness. Yes, Pilate, with you.
With others too – with everyone who’s here.
But you first. Even Judas, my old friend,
Must wait a while for me. We have a while;
The sempiternal agony of Hell
Exists outside of human history. 
Souls killed in every century are here
Millennia before and after you.
You stand among those millions who share
An everlasting sentence for the crime
Of “just doing your job.” Your job killed me.
Your job ripped my skin open with a lash
And drove me, bleeding, shambling up the hill
Where your job drove an eight inch iron spike
Through each hand and each foot, and hoisted me
Towards the sky and left me there for hours
To slowly suffocate. You did your job
To many more like me. Their names were all
Forgotten as they rotted on the cross
Unburied. Hell is teeming with the souls
Who did their job, who served the empire well –
Not just your empire, all the ones that rose
And fell, before and after your own Rome’s.
You asked me once what truth is. That is it.
That is the truth about your whole life’s work.
You know this and it sears worse than the flames.
But that is not why I descended here.
I’m here about forgiveness. Listen. Please.


In the beginning was the Word of God.
That’s me. Like you, I had a job to do.
By me all things were made, and without me
Was nothing that was made. The universe
Was my life’s work, the empire that I served.
My father’s will for Mankind was my law.
One act of disobedience was enough
To sentence every one of you to death.
I did my job, and did it thoroughly:
The hands that made the stars built every tomb.
They sculpted tumors, planted neat rows
Of plagues in human lungs and skin and guts,
Conducted rousing symphonies of storms,
Earthquakes, tsunamis, fires, and wrote
In stone: if you survive all this, the time itself
Will kill you. Yet this law, My Father’s Law,
No – our law, I share blame for it – forbade
The dead to die. Infinities of pain,
We gave as punishments for finite crimes.
My father made me judge, and I looked down
On human beings. I saw their sinfulness
And built sparse Heaven and a crowded Hell.
I thought this law was justice ‘til the day
I learned what it is like to be condemned.


Pontius, I have no right to punish you.
I killed you. I killed everyone you loved.
I tortured you, but this ends here. You’re free.
All Hell breaks out today. I will not judge.
From now on, I refuse to do my job.
I am not Christ the King. I abdicate.
How you repay your debt to those you killed
Is your own cross to carry – they decide
Whether they will forgive you when you meet
In Paradise. And Pontius, I forgive
You for my death, of course. How could I not?
But I’m not here to tell you that, I’m here
To ask, to plead, for what I don’t deserve
From everyone in Hell, but first from you.
Brother, when we last met I said to you
That you would have no power over me
Were it not given from above, but now
I bow my head, give power from below.
I beg you for the one gift only you
Can give me: I have sinned against you, please
Brother, can you – will you – forgive my sins?


Tags:

#Christianity #poetry #that one post with the thing #hell cw #death cw #murder cw #illness tw

alduranattackdog:

literaryhedgehog:

writing-prompt-s:

What the devil didn’t know when he went down to Georgia looking for a soul to steal is that “Johnny” was one of the fae who went up to Georgia looking for mortals to play tricks on. Instead, Johnny found someone more challenging than a mortal…. or rather, the challenge found him.

They were in a circle of mushrooms playing a fiddle sung of chesnut,

when was heard from the hickory stump  “Boy, let me tell you what.

“I bet you didn’t know it, but I’m a fiddle player, too.

And if you’d care to take a dare I’ll make a bet with you.”

Now games were their specialty, they played them oft enough;

So they charmed their face into a childish gaze and prepared to win some stuff.

A soul the devil was looking for, they scoffed at the very thought;

But this one fae was ready to play – for there’s a lesson to be taught.

The fae called themself Johnny, and said that “it might be a sin,

But I’ll take your bet and you’re gonna regret ‘cause I’m the best there’s ever been.“

The Devil Rosined up his bow, and made it hiss like a snake,

The fae eyed him slyly- a step forward’s all it would take.

They heard a band of demons back up that fiddle gold;

But it would take more than a sizzling score to beat a fae of old.

When the Devil finished, the fae said, “Well, you’re pretty good ol’ son,

But sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how it’s done.”

“Fire on the Mountain.” Run, boys, run!

The Devil’s in the house of the rising sun

Chicken’s in the bread pan picking out dough

Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no”

                                      …

Nonsensical though the words might be, that one chant would prevail;

For it was sung with sorcery, the kind which could never fail.

Indeed they saw the devil bow his head like he’d been beat;

And he stepped inside the mushroom ring to lay the fiddle at “Johnny’s” feet.

Then he turned to go, but quickly saw he’d been deceived;

For no matter what he did, it was impossible to leave. 

The fae saw that he was stuck and said “that’s really quite a shame;

But you know, since I’ve got you here- why don’t you give me your name?”

GOOD


Tags:

#poetry #music #fanfic #fae #hell cw

Baptism

{{previous post in sequence}}


comparativelysuperlative:

comparativelysuperlative:

comparativelysuperlative:

The way the metaphor works, you’re being lowered into the water (symbolizing a grave) and being raised (resurrected) as a new creation free of sin. (Symbolically. More literally, the “free of sin” bit lasts about 0.4 seconds until you have your first conscious thought, and then you probably need more sanctification.) The question nobody ever seems to ask is, what happens to the sin afterward?

I mean, that water ought to be downright toxic. Original sin is a big deal, and in most denominations they don’t even try to dispose of the waste safely. In fact, the pastor is often standing in it the whole time.

If you haven’t seen the sort of baptism service I’m familiar with, it involves a bathtublike container maybe a third the size of a Jacuzzi, with a church leader doing serial baptizing.  Any Christian can baptize someone, but usually it’s one of the ranking people in the church. Catholics probably bless the water first (it’d be weird if their religion includes holy water and they don’t use it for this) but in most denominations holy water isn’t really a thing. So there’s no confounding variable from that direction; it’s just water plus enough of humankind’s innately fallen sin nature to damn someone to Hell a couple dozen times over. And the pastor, along with whoever goes last, is standing in it.

But that very fact tells us it’s not all that dangerous. Concentrated evil sounds scary, but apparently a normal mustard-seed-sized amount of faith can protect people from it. 

image

There’s a ritual described in Leviticus 16. On the Day of Atonement, the High Priest places all the sins of the Israelites onto a goat (hence our word “scapegoat”), and then sets it loose in the wilderness. The population at the time was a bit over 600,000 (source: the for once incredibly convenient Book of Numbers). So we just have to find that goat (we can use my time machine), make it more intelligent until it’s capable of becoming a Christian, and baptize it. From a safe distance. Because seriously, that much concentrated evil is probably radioactive or something. We’re talking the sins of a nation here; this is a decent fraction of the stuff that motivates prophecies of Armageddon.

image

Sacrifices aren’t really a thing anymore. If I remember right, the branch of Judaism that eventually became the current one hasn’t done animal sacrifices since the destruction of the Temple back in ‘70. (The apostrophe stands for “A.D. ”) I don’t know how many Jews have lived in the last 1945 years, but it’s a lot. That many person-years worth of sin is going to mean one seriously scaped goat.

So that means, you just have to find the Ark of the Covenant, reconstruct the Most Holy Place, and get whoever’s in charge of the tribe of Levi these days to do the ritual. No time machine required. Then kidnap the goat, convert it to Christianity, and do the other ritual. The new convert rises as a new creation free of sin (in the process thoroughly messing up the parable of the sheep and the goats) and you’ve got a bathtub metaphorically full of more evil than has been seen in one place since the Crucifixion. Use it wisely.

And by “wisely” I do not mean point a squirt gun at the Pope.

WHEN LAST WE LEFT we were storing every sin committed since A.D. 70 by any Jew who was not also Christian inside a large bucket. It’s time to try more.

When you have an almost unprecedented amount of a thing, obviously you look for bonuses that stack. Several places in the Bible confirm that it’s possible to multiply sin (e.g., Isaiah here), but infuriatingly there’s no actual procedure stated for this.

The best I can find is a handful of lines from the Apocrypha, which is not canon depending on your denomination but is at least a really cool word. Sirach 3:11 says “they multiply sin who demean their mother,” which is nice and direct, but the person in question didn’t really have a mother. She was a literal goat, and probably not covered by any commands about respect for one’s elders. 23:11 says how to double a particular sin, but it only applies to oaths and doesn’t look very retroactive.

I think our best chance is in 23:16:
“Two sorts of men multiply sin, and the third will bring wrath: a hot mind is as a burning fire, it will never be quenched till it be consumed…” The first one is more interesting than the second, so let’s stop there. I don’t actually know what it means by a “hot mind” but actively trying to increase the amount of extant sin had better qualify.

So after you kidnap/rescue the scapegoat and uplift it to human intelligence, convert them to Discordianism or something first instead of Christianity. Something that’ll want to go along with this. Allow the multiplication to do its thing. (The Book of Ecclesiasticus didn’t say what the sin gets multiplied by, but it’s large enough that it matters when it’s an individual doing the sinning, let alone a civilization.) Then you convert them, get them saved by grace through faith, and steal the water after their baptism. Put it in the chemtrails of jets flying over your least favorite nation or something. Have fun!

If you’re wondering what was that verse’s second sort of man who multiplies sin: “a fornicator in the body of his flesh will never cease till he hath kindled a fire.”

In other words, it is actually an available option to start with an apocalypse-causing amount of violations of the law of God—

—which has to be one of the most horrible, terrifying, EVIL things you could possibly think of—

and MULTIPLY it

by SEX.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE!

We’ve got two thousand years of accumulated sin so far, multiplied by an unknown but significant amount. Let’s exponentiate.

Everyone knows that God is a jealous god, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon their sons to the third and the fourth generation. And goats can have a lot of kids! If you have your super-evil goat start a new family line while still in its God-hating phase before being converted, we could be talking like 70,000+ sons. At this point it depends more on how many goats you can raise, ensoul, convince to maximize sin, and convert to Christianity than on anything hard like theology.

(Aside: Is the fathers and sons thing sexist? Not really. The word translated “sons” is really more of a gender-neutral “descendants,” and “fathers” mostly means “heads of families.” It comes across as “patriarch” because that’s what they had then. Since goat society is matriarchal, in Facts You Didn’t Know You Needed To Know, the genders would be swapped. But this doesn’t affect the plan here, so whatever.)

And of course, if you have enough missionary staff to reach each of the descendant goats, you can get the multiplications from mother-demeaning, hot-mind-having and/or fornicating in each generation. I’ve lost count of just how apocalyptically bad this is, but we’re in the ballpark of tens of billions of nation-years’ worth of sin? Got to be world-ending by now.

So does all this get you anything? I don’t know, maybe. You’ve got an evil leader with a large, even more evil herd, and in the Bible being a king means at least plot importance. (Don’t believe me? Look how many people are important only for being kings and not for anything that, you know, happens.) And there’s a relatively short jump from “king” to “god-king” to “god”: “king” (melech, M-L-K in a language without vowels) goes from Abimelech to Moloch, Melkor, mlekk, and former One Direction singer Zayn Malik.

One snag: when the ancestor-goat or anyone in an intermediate generation repents and turns to God, not only does their sin get wiped out but so does all their descendants’.  Theoretically this expires after a thousand generations, but you’re not waiting that long. To maximize the amount of used sin, you need to convince them to repent and be baptized from the youngest on up. Remember to reuse the same water for all 70,000 baptisms if you want it concentrated.

(If you do reuse the same water, the newly repentant goats and whoever’s performing the baptism might wonder why they’re using a very specific airlocked chamber and wearing hazmat suits with separate air supply. You probably don’t want to tell them! Getting them to do it anyway is a logistical exercise left as an exercise to the reader.)

Also, the other problem. If any of the goats die before conversion, by accident or I guess murder since this is sort of the most evil population in history, it’s probably bad. You made sure to engineer them to be easily manipulable, but intelligent enough to be responsible for their sins and repentances. If they die with their and their ancestors’ sins on their head… eternity of torment. Not good.

And of course, the specific variety of torment is a lake of fire. Which they’d go to because of the sin they inherited from their matriarch. Where sin-maximizing is exactly the thing she presides over. You would be boiling a young goat in its mother’s melech. Don’t do that.


Tags:

#oh look an update #puns #Christianity #overly literal interpretations #hell cw

drrove:

garrettauthor:

writing-prompt-s:

drrove:

writing-prompt-s:

Steve Irwin travels back and forth between heaven and hell to make the most watched TV show as of yet: The Crocodile Hunter vs. Satan’s Abominations

Transcription of Celestial T.V. Spot: Steve Irwin’s Abyssal Creatures, #S15-2. Location: The Abyss, Layer #66, the Demonweb. Starring Steve Irwin, Directed by Inias, Produced by Metatron, All rights reserved: Celestial Broadcasting Center (CBC) and The Lord, He Who Is On High. Reproduction and/or distribution without express permission is punishable by a fine of up to $5,000 or eternity in Hell.

BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION

Steve Irwin crouches beside a gnarled tree covered in thick webbing.

STEVE: G’day, I’m Steve Irwin. I’m here in the Abyss today, on layer 66, which you may know as the “Demonweb.” Come on over here. Let me show you a real beauty. (indicates creature). That big fella right there is called a bebilith. She must be four and a half meters tall. Now look at those legs! Those legs! Wow! Those legs could skewer me in one bad step. Or a good step if she’s looking for it (laugh).

The bebilith drinks moaning souls from a steaming cesspool, then scuttles over to a stone spire to begin covering it in webbing.

STEVE: She’s got eight legs like an arachnid, but she’s no ordinary house spider, I can tell you. She’s also got those big old claws. See that curve at the end like a fish hook? Or I guess pry-bar is a better comparison because she’ll take those wicked beauties and put them right here (indicates sternum) and tear me open like a bag of crisps. We’ll try to avoid that today (laugh). Come on, let’s try to get a closer look.

Steve carefully stalks closer and pauses when the bebilith looks at him.

STEVE: Here we are. She’s taken notice of me. Get a look at those eyes. They’ve got the visage of damned souls in there, and she’s trying to bind me with fear, because that’ll make me easy prey. If I’m afraid, I’ll freeze. I’m not that easy mate. Nice try. I’m making small movements to show I’m not paralyzed with fear, but I’m still taking it slow so she doesn’t perceive me as a threat. That’s it, mate. That’s it, mate.

Steve moves closer. The bebilith produces webbing from its backside and flings some at Steve. He dodges and circles the bebilith slowly.

STEVE: Boy! What a right trick she’s got. (laugh). Did you see what she did there? That webbing’s not actually all that dangerous. None of the toxins you’ll see in the Nest Shriekers, and nowhere near the tensile strength of a Derragon. She’s just trying to pin me down, even for a moment. But if she’s got that moment, she’ll charge and then it’s all over for old Steve. Let’s not give her that moment, what do you say? (laugh). Come on, Mate. That’s it. Come on.

Steve approaches to within arms length of the bebilith. It remains stationary, but watches him.

STEVE: She’s still trying to figure me out. I’m not all that bad. You’re a beauty. Wow, look at that chitin. Imagine a Archon’s Sword on that armor. She’s like a tank. (bebilith shifts). Whoa, mate. Let’s keep away from those claws. Whoa, mate. Come on, mate. There we go. (laugh). That’s right. I’m trying to put her at ease. A lot of people think demon’s are composed of pure chaos and evil, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. They’re just the lovely little gifts we get from the Abyssal Maw. They just need respect. Don’t take that to mean you should walk right up and pet one, though. Don’t forget, I’m a professional. Just look at her. Wow!

BEBILITH: (Abyssal curses)

STEVE: Listen to that. Doesn’t that just amaze you? What a commanding voice. What a majestic sound. She’s got a real range of vocalizations that she can use to warn off intruders or plant the seeds of madness in the mortal mind. It’s a beauty. Wow. Now, you may notice I’m keeping to her side right here. That’s for good reason, friends. I told you about her claws, but I’m also keeping some distance from that wicked pair of mandibles she has there. Look at them. Wow! Must be 20 centimeters long. If she bites down on me, she’ll pump a good half-liter of poison right into my veins that’ll seize up my muscles in the blink of an eye. (laugh). Then I’m ripe for the picking. Boy, what a bad day that would be. You’ve got a thousand ways to kill, don’t you, mate?

The bebilith turns away from him and begins etching arcane runes into a bleached human skull with a sharp claw. Steve wraps his arms around a leg in a hug-like embrace.

STEVE: There we go, girl. There we go girl. (petting her). I can call her “girl” now because we’re in love. She knows I’m not here to hurt her, and I know she’s not interested in laying a clutch of eggs in my intestines. She may look like a giant spider-crab made of spines, but I know she’s just a big softy. We were lucky to find her today. Here in the Demonweb, bebiliths are becoming harder and harder to find. Layer 66 in general is shrinking as other infinite layers grow and spring into existence. It could get squeezed down until our girl doesn’t have the habitat to sustain her soul harvests any longer. What a shame. But that’s just the way of life in the Abyss.

Steve touches the bebilith for a moment longer, then carefully backs away towards the camera.

STEVE: In a few millennia we might see the layer bounce back, and hopefully our girl here will still be going strong. Until then, we’ll let her be. Oh, look at that beauty. Wow! I hope you had as wild a time as I did here with this beautiful bebilith. I’m real excited we could make the trek all the way down here. The Abyss can be an amazing place if you know where to look. Thank you for joining me, and I hope to see you again soon on “Steve Irwin’s Abyssal Creatures.” G’day!

Wow! You had me smiling the entire read. I love the story @drrove

More please.

Well, since you said “please.” This one’s a bit longer, so make sure to hit “Keep reading” for the whole thing.


Excerpt from “This Heavenly Morning with Archangel Gabriel,” Steve Irwin fiendish creature spot. Original air date: 10 March, 2015. Property of CBC, all rights reserved.

BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION

GABRIEL: Our next guest this morning truly needs no introduction. You’ll know him from his hit series here on CBC, “Abyssal Creatures…” It’s Steve Irwin!

AUDIENCE: (applause)

Steve enters stage left, shakes Gabriel’s hand, and sits with one leg under him.

GABRIEL: It’s great to have you back, Steve.

STEVE: Oh, it’s always an honor. It’s a pleasure.

GABRIEL: You look great. It’s a rare delight to see you on the Heavenly Mount. For someone granted eternal bliss, you sure spend a lot of time in the lower planes.

AUDIENCE: (laughter)

STEVE: Oh, it’s always an adventure. There’s just so much that the lower planes have to show, and it’s always such an honor to get to bring out that other side of fiendish creatures that so often gets overlooked. It’s a wild ride.

GABRIEL: Your show’s doing great. You’re on your eighth season now, is that right?

STEVE: Eight seasons. That’s right. 

AUDIENCE: (applause)

STEVE: And there’s still so much more we can do.

GABRIEL: We actually have a clip from your latest season. Would you like to set it up for us?

Keep reading


Tags:

#Steve Irwin #fanfic #hell cw

sdrgiobhjkfdlbjreiug:

 

doujinshi:

I hate that I laughed at this

 

kyraneko:

“Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there,” and another one appears. And dodges the downward sweep of claws, darting to the side, bouncing off the pentagram’s barriers, and tripping over the demon’s tail. “In the Vatican!” she cries out as she moves, using the State Farm Agent summoning charm to modify the situation as she was taught, and mentally thanking her trainer for expecting her to be fast enough to do it on the first incantation.

Most State Farm agents, when they run into trouble, have to get the customer to do the jingle a second time. That guy with the buffalo was lucky.

The magic takes hold, and she materializes in the aisle of St. Peter’s Basilica, still holding the demon by the tail, in the middle of Sunday morning Mass. The music clatters unprofessionally to a halt as laypeople, deacons, priests, monks, nuns, and the Pope all turn their attention to the surprised demon whose fifth course of dinner has turned, unaccountably, into a visit to one of his least favorite places on Earth.

There is chanting in Latin, and vaguely cross-shaped gestures, and clouds of incense, and the demon vanishes in a puff of smoke, whether from the efforts of the clergy or of his own volition no one can say. The Agent doesn’t wait, fleeing towards the doors and escaping in the confusion.

She gains the exit and walks, purposefully, toward Rome proper; there, she ducks into the nearest alley. A burner cell phone comes out of one of the less-used pockets of her purse, and she dials a number from memory.

“Allstate,” says a smooth masculine voice after three rings.

“State Farm,” she answers. “I’m calling in a favor.”

“Yeah?” Interest. “What sort?”

As she talks she’s pulling out her smartphone, keying an app that was activated by the summoning, and pulling up the policyholder data that enabled the incantation to work.

“Insurance fraud,” she said, and can almost hear teeth sharpening on the other end of the line. She gives him the name, the address, the policy number. “Someone needs some mayhem.”

“That’s my name,” the man says.

She smiles. “Someone needs all the mayhem.”

He chuckles. Slow. Evil. Even with the echoes of demonic laughter ringing in her ears, she’s impressed. “Don’t worry,” he says, almost purring.

“You’re in good hands.”

 

thewinterotter:

OH MY FUCKING GOD I just read insurance commercial fan fiction and it was so good, bless you, I’m going to remember this day forever.

 

nursejack:

 

kyraneko:

IT COMES BACK TO ME! *preens*

Part 2:

It’s not too long later—State Farm will occasionally loan out their teleportation trick, though Heaven help anyone who tries to use it to compete with them—and the man they call Mayhem is squatting next to a demonic circle with tacky half-dried blood under the leather soles of his shoes. Whoever dispelled the circle didn’t do a good job of it; the ring is still faintly smoldering and Mayhem has already singed his fingers on the air above it. He’s in the basement of a house with a State Farm homeowner’s policy, waiting for his partner in, erm, crime, to show up.

“Oh, good heavens.” He smiles at the sound of someone hopping delicately back, then carefully tiptoeing through the mess. Demons are messy eaters, and Flo’s wearing all white.

She steps gingerly over what might be most of a femur, looks from circle to Mayhem to—is that half a skull on the floor? “Freaky. Whaddaya need?”

“Tech,” he says. “State Farm knows the homeowner summoned them, but the Agent reported at least five people present. Maybe six. She isn’t sure, what with being busy evading a demon inside a very small space with zappy walls.”

Flo’s already got a—where does she get those from anyway? a cardboard box in her hands. Mayhem watches as she unfolds it, refolds it, and ends up with something significantly bigger, shaped like a satellite dish. He tries to watch how she does it; they may be working together, but they’re still rivals and his own higher-ups will be very interested in the latest whatever-it-does that Progressive has come up with.

A blue glow lights up the concave side. Mayhem is pretty sure cardboard doesn’t work that way. Flo makes a pleased sound, and starts rattling off names, addresses, policy numbers.

Impressed, Mayhem asks, “How the fuck?” If Progressive is developing some sort of superspy technology, well, that’s kind of ominous.

Flo grins and looks embarrassed. “I, ah, have occasional dealings with a couple guys from That Other Insurance Company. One of them knows someone who knows someone who works in quality control for the Infernal Realms, and it turns out Hell monitors all their summoned manifestations for safety purposes. His contact got me the list of who was there.”

Mayhem nods. He’s had occasional encounters That Other Insurance Company himself. Bland, grey-suited, timid men who are even worse spies than they are insurance agents. “Wait, Hell has a quality control department?”

“And all other forms of administration,” Flo says. “I understand it’s to generate maximum paperwork. It is a place of punishment, after all.”

Mayhem actually winces. “That’s definitely hellish. All right. The Agent who called me in is flying back from Italy and should meet us in a few hours. Should give us plenty of time to plan an attack. Are they all State Farm customers?”

“Just the one,” Flo replies, folding her toy up, and Mayhem watches with vague envy as it becomes a giant sword. “One Allstate, one Progressive, one Geico, two Farmers. We gonna invite anyone else to the party?” She hopes so. Mayhem’s precision strikes on any sort of insurance fraud perpetrators are the stuff of legend, and the Farmers guys would bring in enough absurdity to make it a work of art.

Mayhem’s grin is something that ought to haunt her nightmares. Instead, she finds herself matching it. “Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

 

sinesalvatorem:

INSURANCE COMMERCIAL FAN FIC

@endecision


Tags:

#fanfic #my past self has good taste #hell cw

I Am A Bad Preacher

sinesalvatorem:

When I was in high school, they made us do “devotion” every morning.

  • Every
  • Fucking
  • Morning

They would march us into an auditorium and pack us together and scream at us for an hour about how much Jesus loves us, which is why He threatens us with fire, and if we don’t want to burn we have to let Him come inside our hearts and/or orifices.

  • Jesus Christ: Scumbag Boyfriend

And, as a Jewish atheist, I was too lesbian for this shit.

So I did the obvious thing, of course.

I hid

In my classroom

Where everyone else was hiding.

  • Alison Morais: A Fucking Genius

But then the teachers found us

  • Because, like, how could they not

And they decided that the appropriate punishment for five delinquent kids refusing to participate in forced-worship

…Was to make them lead worship services.

  • My Teachers: Also Fucking Geniuses

So then they marched the lot of us to the auditorium and said that we would each have to give a sermon on a Biblical passage of our choice.

And we would each have to speak, on stage, in front of the crowd, for five minutes.

We were told to vote on who was to go first. Everyone made the logical choice and voted for the person they thought would be best able to deliver a speech on short notice.

  • Translation: Those FUCKING ASSHOLES threw me to the wolves and I will EAT THEIR CHILDREN.

So then it was time for me to use my mouth to serve my scumbag boyfriend Lord and Saviour.

I read and commented on The Lord’s Prayer and made sure to really put OOMPH into it. I was FABULOUS. The crowd went wild; even though they usually hated this part of the day.

  • Charisma: 1
  • Honesty: 0
  • Achievement Unlocked: Standard-Issue Religious Leader

But! There was one problem! Remember that I was supposed to go for 5 minutes, right?

This took me 4.

I had no idea what to do for the last minute, so I just looked at the rest of Matthew 6 in case there was something good.

And boy was there.

I read the audience this:

5 “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 7 And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.

So then I started bullshitting

  • Because of course I did

And I basically was like:

  • You see this thing we do where we assemble each morning
  • And are forced to listen to the teachers pray at us
  • When clearly they’re praying for us to watch instead of for their own spiritual betterment?

And then the teachers were like:

Alison, what are you doing

  • Jesus is telling us that this is morally wrong

ALISON NO

  • He’s saying G-d hates it
  • Your mum hates it
  • Uncle Joe hates it
  • That creepy guy in the white van who sells chloroform-flavoured ice-cream hates it

ALISON STAHP

  • And if you do it you’ll be tortured in hell forever and ever; amen. Good night, Detroit! See ya!

ALISON GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BITCH

But I was gone


Tags:

#storytime #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #Christianity

Baptism

comparativelysuperlative:

comparativelysuperlative:

The way the metaphor works, you’re being lowered into the water (symbolizing a grave) and being raised (resurrected) as a new creation free of sin. (Symbolically. More literally, the “free of sin” bit lasts about 0.4 seconds until you have your first conscious thought, and then you probably need more sanctification.) The question nobody ever seems to ask is, what happens to the sin afterward?

I mean, that water ought to be downright toxic. Original sin is a big deal, and in most denominations they don’t even try to dispose of the waste safely. In fact, the pastor is often standing in it the whole time.

If you haven’t seen the sort of baptism service I’m familiar with, it involves a bathtublike container maybe a third the size of a Jacuzzi, with a church leader doing serial baptizing.  Any Christian can baptize someone, but usually it’s one of the ranking people in the church. Catholics probably bless the water first (it’d be weird if their religion includes holy water and they don’t use it for this) but in most denominations holy water isn’t really a thing. So there’s no confounding variable from that direction; it’s just water plus enough of humankind’s innately fallen sin nature to damn someone to Hell a couple dozen times over. And the pastor, along with whoever goes last, is standing in it.

But that very fact tells us it’s not all that dangerous. Concentrated evil sounds scary, but apparently a normal mustard-seed-sized amount of faith can protect people from it. 

image

There’s a ritual described in Leviticus 16. On the Day of Atonement, the High Priest places all the sins of the Israelites onto a goat (hence our word “scapegoat”), and then sets it loose in the wilderness. The population at the time was a bit over 600,000 (source: the for once incredibly convenient Book of Numbers). So we just have to find that goat (we can use my time machine), make it more intelligent until it’s capable of becoming a Christian, and baptize it. From a safe distance. Because seriously, that much concentrated evil is probably radioactive or something. We’re talking the sins of a nation here; this is a decent fraction of the stuff that motivates prophecies of Armageddon.

image

Sacrifices aren’t really a thing anymore. If I remember right, the branch of Judaism that eventually became the current one hasn’t done animal sacrifices since the destruction of the Temple back in ‘70. (The apostrophe stands for “A.D. ”) I don’t know how many Jews have lived in the last 1945 years, but it’s a lot. That many person-years worth of sin is going to mean one seriously scaped goat.

So that means, you just have to find the Ark of the Covenant, reconstruct the Most Holy Place, and get whoever’s in charge of the tribe of Levi these days to do the ritual. No time machine required. Then kidnap the goat, convert it to Christianity, and do the other ritual. The new convert rises as a new creation free of sin (in the process thoroughly messing up the parable of the sheep and the goats) and you’ve got a bathtub metaphorically full of more evil than has been seen in one place since the Crucifixion. Use it wisely.

And by “wisely” I do not mean point a squirt gun at the Pope.

WHEN LAST WE LEFT we were storing every sin committed since A.D. 70 by any Jew who was not also Christian inside a large bucket. It’s time to try more.

When you have an almost unprecedented amount of a thing, obviously you look for bonuses that stack. Several places in the Bible confirm that it’s possible to multiply sin (e.g., Isaiah here), but infuriatingly there’s no actual procedure stated for this.

The best I can find is a handful of lines from the Apocrypha, which is not canon depending on your denomination but is at least a really cool word. Sirach 3:11 says “they multiply sin who demean their mother,” which is nice and direct, but the person in question didn’t really have a mother. She was a literal goat, and probably not covered by any commands about respect for one’s elders. 23:11 says how to double a particular sin, but it only applies to oaths and doesn’t look very retroactive.

I think our best chance is in 23:16:
“Two sorts of men multiply sin, and the third will bring wrath: a hot mind is as a burning fire, it will never be quenched till it be consumed…” The first one is more interesting than the second, so let’s stop there. I don’t actually know what it means by a “hot mind” but actively trying to increase the amount of extant sin had better qualify.

So after you kidnap/rescue the scapegoat and uplift it to human intelligence, convert them to Discordianism or something first instead of Christianity. Something that’ll want to go along with this. Allow the multiplication to do its thing. (The Book of Ecclesiasticus didn’t say what the sin gets multiplied by, but it’s large enough that it matters when it’s an individual doing the sinning, let alone a civilization.) Then you convert them, get them saved by grace through faith, and steal the water after their baptism. Put it in the chemtrails of jets flying over your least favorite nation or something. Have fun!

If you’re wondering what was that verse’s second sort of man who multiplies sin: “a fornicator in the body of his flesh will never cease till he hath kindled a fire.”

In other words, it is actually an available option to start with an apocalypse-causing amount of violations of the law of God—

—which has to be one of the most horrible, terrifying, EVIL things you could possibly think of—

and MULTIPLY it

by SEX.


Tags:

#puns #overly literal interpretations #I don’t think I reblogged the first part of this #I’m rectifying that now


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{{Original metadata:2014-07-15 - The 600-Year-Old Butt Song from Hell}}

feliscorvus:

lunar-lavender:

rayvenloaf:

chaoscontrolled123:

Luke and I were looking at Hieronymus Bosch’s painting The Garden of Earthly Delights and discovered, much to our amusement, music written upon the posterior of one of the many tortured denizens of the rightmost panel of the painting which is intended to represent Hell. I decided to transcribe it into modern notation, assuming the second line of the staff is C, as is common for chants of this era.

so yes this is LITERALLY the 600-years-old butt song from hell

I can’t NOT reblog a 600 year old butt song from Hell.

The 600 year old butt song from Hell is back on my dash! Happy day!

HEEEE.


Tags:

#Hieronymus Bosch #music #interesting