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It was a sad day in Hell.
Everyone was miserable.
Scott Walker was in the devil’s office to lodge a complaint. He was assigned to stoke one of the hottest ovens, in one of the deepest parts of Hell, with his partner, Rick Scott.
“I don’t get paid enough,” complained Walker.
“Well I’ll be dipped in shit.”
“No, really,” Walker whined. And that partner, Rick, you-all got me assigned to? Makes me want to shower and check for my wallet. I wanna talk to my union representative.”
“Bitch, you in Hell,” crooned the devil. “How you think you got any collective bargaining rights when you in Hell?”
“Uh, I…”
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, since I’m feelin’ uh, generous today.”
In the background, Rick Scott screamed, “I AM NOT INSANE!!! I am not INSANE! Let me out! Oh, PLEASE let me OUT OF HERE!!!”
“Think about it Rick. You are not making sense!” shouted Glenn Beck.
“Haltz mau, dummkaupf,” screamed Hitler.
“I’ll pump you full of buckshot and rope you to the hood of my car if you don’t shut up, Rick,” screamed Dick Cheney. When we get outta here I swear I am going to kill you.”
“We’re never getting out, Dick, if ya think about it,” said Glenn Beck. “We have been here for ten thousand years already. You are not making sense. This does not make any sense.”
“Did you know,” mused Charlie Manson, “That some motherfucker out there owes me money. And when I get out of here I’m gonna…”
“Hey, Glenn,” whispered Rush Limbaugh. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“That’s your momma.”
“That’s your momma who?
“That’s your momma knock-knock-knockin’ her head against the headboard when I…”
“You are not making sense. This does not make sense. NONE of this makes any sense.” Glenn was miserable. He began to cry.
“America. Fuck yeah,” said [delete this post, or select payment type].
In the foreground, in the devil’s office, the conference continued.
“I’m gonna transfer you to telemarketing, Scott. Piece of cake. All you do is answer phones. All day long. Every day. For ever.”
“Oh but I, well no… that’s worse! Plus, I, I’m sick. I got this, like, tapeworm or something, from the water down here. Why can’t I have any bottled water?”
“Plastic fucking bottles,” said the devil. “Who do you think I am, anyway, fart-knocker? Even I recycle.”
Rush Limbaugh overheard this and said, “I can vouch for that. I’ve been assigned to dive dumpsters, for all of eternity. The dude does recycle.”
“And while I am at it, I’m gonna reassign Rick. To the same room as you. He’ll be writing on the chalkboard: ‘I am not a criminal scumbag. I am a Republican.’ “You think five hundred times was a lot? Think again. This is Hell, not Sunday school.”
“But, but…” stammered Scott Walker. But suddenly he felt the poke of a pitchfork to his backside.
While Scott Walker was being escorted through the halls of Hell to his new work site, they overheard:
“Nope. No Dubya-em-dees in here,” said George Bush. “I looked already.”
“Look again, frat boy. This place IS a WMD.
disclaimer: This is a…roast. Pure fun. First attempt at ‘political’ writing.
13 Comments
Recommended. Heh.
Thanks, mzchief. It was fun!
Funny if it were true, but I think John got it right:
“Imagine there’s no heaven, it’s easy if you try
no hell below us, above us only sky…………”
Good point, seeker561, about the whole heaven-hell dichotomy being created. Hell resides within each of us rather than being a destination, one could say.
One could also argue that hell is cold, not hot.
Who knew the devil is foul/fowl-mouthed Foghorn Leghorn? CS, find a good graphic artist, and you’ve made yourself a new career in the comic book industry (see Berke Breathed, Gary Trudeau, etc but without the language constraints).
Why thank you billthechowchow.
I remember damned-if-you-do/damned-if-you-don’t, Gary Larsen, with the devil prodding the guy, with a fork to pick a ‘door.’
Then the devil says, “It’s one or the other.”
Anyhow, got a graphics suggestion? I scanned the graphics on Flickr, but did not find anything that I really liked.
And, thank you.
Also: Egg Cellent pun.
You need a graphic artist who’s as original as you are; inquire around the Lake – there’s bound to be one here. I’m envious of them because I can’t even draw a straight line without a ruler. Comedy is the easiest (most effective and gentlest) way to make a point, so we need more Rapture Research Projects. Thanks for the fun.
Stephen King said it best: “Humor is anger with its makeup on.”
Or something like that.
More credit to Mr. Stephen King: Above quote is in the book, On Writing, by Stephen King, I believe, and the quote, “I’ll be dipped in shit” is part of some early dialogue in the book Under the Dome, by Stephen King, although it may be a common phrase of endearment in the northeast, I do not know.
And, the Gary Larsen devil said, “C’mon, C’mon. It’s one or the other,” if I remember correctly.
Hope I got these right from memory. I do not have these references in front of me.
Love SK! During a layover at the Bangor airport when I was nine and before the delightful Sissy Spacek graced the cover and became a movie star, I got Carrie off a paperback rack, which, if memory serves – and mine often embellishes, was located in view of a lobster tank. I’ve been a Constant Reader since.
Seriously, find an artist and self-publish. Without comedic mockery and ridicule, anyone can be considered legitimate – see Fey/Palin and Flynt/Falwell for starters. And just for fun inspiration without political overtones, see Donald O’Connor’s Make’em Laugh scene from Singing in the Rain.
Noted and appreciated, and thank you so much, billthechowchow!
A reference to old-fashioned outhouses.