Everyday
Thoughts With the Reverend Thuglife...
This Month: A Question for the Ages
The
other day I was hanging out with a few hundred of my closest friends, giving
thanks to our dark lord below by sacrificing a two-headed virgin baby goat.
As we finished up the usual prayer “Oh lord of all that is fetid and rotten,
please take this sacrifice as a sign of our unyielding supplication to your
divine evil, and grace our pitiful souls with eternal torment….”
(you know how it goes), I noticed that about half of these dark souls ended
the prayer by saying ‘Hail Satan’ and the other half ‘Praise
Satan’. This got me to wondering which was a more proper way to salute
my foul prince.
I personally
ended the prayer by saying ‘Praise Satan.’ It has always seemed
to me natural to use this as a commendation for all the wretchedness and filth
which he has unleashed upon the world. A simple thank you for not allowing the
righteous to gain a firm grasp upon the world and for the courtesy of corrupting
the innocent so that I don’t have to. However, when I started thinking,
it just didn’t seem appropriate to give thanks to the divine source of
all wickedness. Why would he want a prayer to him ended with a salutation expressing
joy for what he has done? No, it just doesn’t seem right. On the other
hand ‘Hail Satan’ doesn’t really work for me either. It’s
too simple a greeting. It is a mere acknowledgement of his existence. You might
as well say “Howdy Satan,” it means practically the same thing.
So I decided to take the issue to the source.
Now everyone
knows that when you sell your soul you get to ask one final favor or question
of Lucifer himself, and then he immediately devours you whole. But due to the
frivolous nature of evil, he had too many of his followers using their final
favor for trivial matters such as settling disputes over dogs shitting in someone
else’s yard. Now while I think it is great to smite the bastard who complains
about you spreading their yard with your dog’s feces, I don’t think
it’s worth ending your own life over. And oddly Satan agrees with me.
So to help avoid this problem, he instituted a ‘freebie’ incentive
program. One out of every one thousand unbaptised male children has inside them
a coupon for one free summoning. When I found this out, I immediately set out
skinning and eviscerating small boys and after about five hundred or so, sure
enough I found one printed on the lung of three year old Korean boy named Heang.
What a sweet little boy he was. He gave me a lick of his ice cream cone before
I stabbed him in the eye.
After
deciding that now was the time to cash in my freebie, I gathered together twelve
of my vilest companions and held the ceremony. After several hours, with our
assholes properly sore and swollen, and our hands, faces, and pricks thoroughly
smeared with shit, blood, and cum, the loathsome beast himself finally made
his entrance. Now I don’t know if you have ever seen Satan in his physical
form, but this was my third time and just like the last two, I instantly released
from every orifice. The next thing I remember, eleven of my companions had been
completely devoured and the twelfth’s liver was being used by my lord
as one would a piece of bread, sopping up various pools of vomit and bile as
if they were a delicate sauce. Upon finishing his meal, he stood up and walked
in my direction glaring at me as if he had just caught me urinating on his sneakers.
(Not many people know this but Satan does in fact wear sneakers, Filas to be
specific.) Before he could speak, which would have been too horrible to bear
without collapsing into insanity, I blurted out my question as best I could,
having just bitten off the end of my tongue. When I was done, he stopped, let
out a horrifying laugh and lit me on fire, which caused him to laugh all the
harder. But, in my writhing agony it came to me. Neither ‘Hail Satan’
nor ‘Praise Satan’ is nearly good enough.
From
now on when attending a mass, at the end of the prayer, instead of saying any
silly phrase of thanks or greeting, I will merely turn to the person closest
to me and stab them repeatedly with an ice pick and sodomize their newly created
fuck holes. All the while screaming like a howler monkey about the glorious
horror that is Satan himself. Now I have one question to ask of you. Who’s
your daddy? That’s right, I’m your daddy. See you at the next mass,
you poor pathetic soul.