At the Internet Chronicle, we’re better than you. You probably think you’re pretty good, and maybe you are, but we are better.
You are nothing!
Fancy yourself a good cook? We got you topped. Wild Bill Kilgoar can whip up a souffle that’ll lop your tits off. Got no tits? You might grow some.
Oh? You’re good at driving? I flipped a van down into a bank one time, while trying to prove to my friends that roads don’t matter. We got out. Police came to the house. Nothing happened. I’m better than you.
Can you read lips? Well, I read minds, bitch, and I know that you know I’m better than you.
Eat my ass. This is the Internet Chronicle.
This message was brought to you proudly by Lebal Drocer, Inc.
We own everything that matters, which is better than you can say.
I’m Frank Mason. I work around the clock on a decommissioned research facility, protecting the untouched remnants of a bygone dark age of government testing. I’ll do this until I die. For now–rather, I should say for the duration of this story–I was lounging on the davenport at home, smoking a joint.
Last night, I had a vision
side 1
My entire furniture future was all polyester, stuffed with treated cotton. It felt good, I guess.
Ripping a fart, I stood up from the couch where I’ve spent the last six hours sitting, watching television. My stained teeth itch. Some tobacco smoke could kill that right off. And it should. I have little tolerance for bacteria, or more despicably, a fungus. I feel that I’d rather eat HIV-infected mosquitoes. Do those exist? Do I?
When I was in the war, we used to have this saying, “Don’t look at the flash.” When I was just green, I would wonder what that meant. After serving nine years of active duty in the nuclear deserts, I had it figured out pretty quick, when a nuclear blast was detected a few miles Southwest of our position. All at once, I was overcome by a mad rush to the iodine tincture buried deep within our packs, under the sleeping bag, and soup kettle, and lastly the cigarettes and ammunition, at the bottom among the suicide pellet and a letter from Mom, stained with tea. Regulation shit!
The roaring of engines could be heard overhead.
side 2
Hey son. We love and miss you. When you get home, we have a big surprise for you. We can’t tell you what it is now, but you are going to LOVE it! When you get home, you will find your old room like you left it, and a nice TV with your computer all set up and ready. Your brother says hello, and your little sister has started dating a boy…she is growing up so fast.
The rest is in there.
For now, the acid trip has taken a new direction. Since the recent explosion of chemical testing on refugees and involuntary Section Eight retards, the whole corps has become a creepy, hollow place. Our commanding officers no longer look us in the eyes. The dogs seem to act as if we are inconsequential to their well-beings. Even the birds stopped flying overhead. A well-greased rifle is your best friend. The trees are melting. Nature is beautiful.
In Heaven, the people we love end up hurting us the most.
Because God loves YOU!
Saint Peter has cast more babies into the yawning mouths of Satan than he can remember, so he uses a ledger.
Heaven, once believed to be a land of endless smiles and permanent happiness, could be the final nightmarish conclusion to a life lived in clean Christian purity, according to a new study published by Dr. Angstrom H. Troubadour, who is a lead researcher at the Lebal Drocer Institute of Theology at Harvard University.
“You probably think of Heaven as a place where you get to chill out for all eternity with the people you love. That’s what we, at the school, thought too,” Troubadour said. “As it turns out, the people we love are flawed sinners who break the commandments, which – as you know – is punishable by eternity in Hell, where they are tortured, humiliated, and burned forever. And while I know that sounds badass, in reality it is intensely, emotionally painful for people in Heaven, separated from their loved ones.”
The absence of cherished sinners creates a ‘sterile’ Heaven devoid of pets, unbaptized babies, and cool uncles. According to Troubadour’s research, the whiplash from expectation to reality shocks the souls of even the bravest soldiers of God, as they enter the Pearly Gates only to discover the unrepentant sinners they love will not, in fact, walk beside them in the Kingdom of Heaven.
“If you go to Heaven and you’re looking for your son, but you can’t find him, he is probably paying for his sins for all eternity,” Troubadour said. “Angels are rubbing your shoulders, telling you how good you look, and driving you back and forth from the spa to church. Meanwhile, Timmy is getting molested by the Devil in Hell. Knowing this makes enjoying Heaven very difficult.”
Troubadour’s research into the afterlife uncovered gruesome details about Hell more Hellish than previously imagined, which is why Troubadour recommends baptizing babies as early as possible by giving water birth into a baptistery. He suggests either redefining your allegiances and forgetting about all the sinful loved ones whose indiscretions hurt snowflake Lord Jesus, or wallow in grief – in Heaven – because you still love your family.
“Alternatively,” Troubadour explained, “You could choose not to baptize your child, and when you get to Heaven, rest easy knowing your sinful, ugly, blasphemous baby is one of billions suffering as they deserve in the deepest, most hateful, unrelenting bowels of Hell as waves of fire wash over them, burning their tiny, helpless bodies, and stinging them with an undertow of dirty heroin needles and poisonous box jellyfish.”
Troubadour said because of population growth, Hell has been forced to expand torture operations to “an industrial scale.” Now, traincars carrying babies through Hell stop for one of only two reasons: either to add more unbaptized babies, or dump all the sinful babies into hot, hungry furnaces of fire and brimstone, which burn hotter, and brighter, and more intensely with every abortion, stillbirth, and incident of SIDS. Hot damn!
“Heaven sucks because of the sinners in Hell. Think about that before deciding to go to Heaven.” –Dr. Troubadour
