Ethereal Theater of the Absurd, Part 4

Sometimes it's just a big misunderstanding!


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE


“I want it back, Elizabeth. I want it, I want it.”
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Janice Stephenson, long silent, her ancient face red and animated again, appealed.
“See God? He’s a monster. A monster!”
“No I’m not,” Ernest said. “I’m a man. I human being of flesh and blood and soul
and dreams and.”
YOU COULD HAVE CONTROLLED YOURSELF! GOD AGREES. YOU
ARE A MONSTER. YOU ARE A PEDOPHILE AND A GERIATRIFILE WITH
DARK INCESTUOUS INCLINATIONS. ADD IT UP FOR YOURSELF, MONSTER.
GOD’S MATH IS GOOD.
“God’s math is a joke,” Ernest said. “Remember the apostle Paul’s lament, that
which I want to do, I don’t do; that which I don’t.”
DON’T QUOTE SCRIPTURE TO GOD. SCRIPTURE MAKES GOD SLEEPY.
“Very well,” Ernest said. “I rest my case. I’m just like the apostle Paul. Can I
either wake up in bed or enter the kingdom of heaven now?”
DO YOU HAVE THE NECESSARY CASH?
“I do!” squealed Janice, holding her purse aloft, beaming.
“What?” Ernest whispered. “What did God say?”
DID NO ONE EXPLAIN THE ENTRY FEE TO YOU, PUNY?
“Why the fuck would there be an entry fee? Heaven’s a spiritual place, isn’t it?”
IGNORANCE OF THE ENTRY FEE IS NO EXCUSE. GOD NEEDS CASH!
“Well, I suppose diapers ain’t free,” Ernest said, looking over at Janice with con-
tempt. Saggy grey tits brought a purse!
HA HA. VERY FUNNY. YOU THINK GOD’S JOKING? GOD HAS NEEDS.
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“For diapers?”
GOD’S BOOKIES BADGER GOD NIGHT AND DAY, AND THE ANGEL-
PIMPS HAVE BEEN SMACKIN’ AROUND GOD’S WHORES DUE TO GOD’S
FORFEITURE OF PAYMENT FOR SERVICES RENDERED. GOD NEEDS
WHORES. GOD MISSES THEM. DO YOU HAVE CASH?
“I’d like to wake up from this nightmare now.” Ernest took his hands off his
crotch and closed his eyes. Back to my body, back to my body. Little Mary took the
opportunity to reclaim her toy.
“Get bigger, toy worm,” she said, wiggling Ernest’s limpness with vigor. “Get
bigger for Mary.”
“Please stop,” Ernest murmured. Back to my body!
“You’re asking for it,” cried Elizabeth, crossing her little white arms over her
fluid-slimed chest, and tilting up her chin haughtily. “I hope it pukes on you too.”
Janice counted a stack of Franklins that she’d pulled from her purse, and chanted,
“Monster thousand one hundred dollars, monster thousand two hundred dollars.”
Ernest gave up, opened his eyes, saw Mary batting his prick against her tiny pink
nipple, and erupted into laughter. “God, how am I supposed to bargain for my salvation
with this kid pawing at my pecker?”
HA HA HA.
“C’mon God, I accept your reality now. Can’t you conjure up some marbles for
her? a teddy bear? a Barbie doll? Anything to get her off my dick.”
OH, YOU HAVE A CASH OFFERING FOR GOD?
Guimond/ETHEREAL THEATER 15
“Give these girls something to do and we’ll talk.”
ALRIGHT! YOU GIRLS HAVE WAITED LONG ENOUGH. YOU MAY
ENTER YOUR FATHER’S KINGDOM NOW, PREPARED FOR THEE AND THINE
SINCE THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD. THEREIN YOU’LL FIND TOYS
APLENTY. ENJOY PARADISE.
High above everyone’s heads the sky-painting changed. The clouds-on-purple
swirled into a rotating spiral, forming two arms on either side. It’s hue changed from
milky purple to glowing gold, and the celestial music from before roared with a million
angel-voices an ode to awe. The two spiral arms reached down to the girls, forming
welcoming golden hands at their ends. A sublime tenderness emanated from those
hands. Ernest’s heart hummed along to its tune. His Adam’s apple froze in his
throat. Mary gave the penis a final tug. “Bye bye, toy,” she said, then heaven’s hands
scooped up the girls and sucked them into the vortex, which then vanished, the sky re-
turning to its previous state of clouds-on-purple.
“Wow,” Ernest said.
YOU CAN GO WHERE THEY ARE AND PLAY WITH THEM AGAIN FOR
ALL ETERNITY IF YOU CAN JUST FORK OVER SOME CASH FOR GOD.
“That statement is so fucked up on so many levels that I don’t know where to
begin.”
BEGIN WITH THE CASH EXCHANGE AND THE REST WILL FOLLOW.
Ernest raised his arms. “Am I supposed to pull some cash out of my ass?”
GOD’S CHERUBIM WILL WASH GOD’S MONEY. ALL MONEY IS HOLY
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TO ME.
“I wasn’t being serious, God. There’s no cash in my ass.”
ARE YOU SURE? MAYBE YOU FORGOT.
Janice, still counting her stash, chimed in. “Give the monster a cavity-search,
God.”
THAT COULD BE ARRANGED. IT’S THE SERAPHIM’S SPECIALTY.
“Look you two, I don’t have any money. I didn’t think it was important. Am I
the only dumb ass who believed in the adage, you can’t take it with you when you die?”
YES YOU PRETTY MUCH ARE. HEAVEN HAS NO ROOM FOR PAUPERS.
DIDN’T YOU READ ABOUT THE MANSIONS? YOU STUDIED MY BOOK A
WHILE, OR MAYBE YOU FORGOT.
“Yeah, but the heavenly mansion thing is just a metaphor for the glories of God’s
kingdom. What about the meek inheriting the earth? What about the first will be last, and
the last will be first? What about it’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to.”
WHAT IS A METAPHOR?
“What! Aren’t you the author of language?”
THE LAMB OF ME IS LOGOS, NOT GOD.
“Aren’t you and Jesus of the same--No! Fuck that. The magic mushroom is
Logos. My breakthrough trip taught me as much. It dictated a hymn to me, and for six
hours I listened to that God within, and typed out It’s melting wisdom on the screen, and
that tune of healing I tell you, beast, hums in my soul still.”