Tuesday, June 6

The Day Of The Beast - Part I.

The Day Of The Beast.
(Rated SB for Slight Blasphemy. It's all in good fun, though.)

Today is a special day; one I believe will finally put the CDP on the global map.

I honor of The Day Of The Beast, I busted out my Holy Rolodex and gave Satan a call. His voice mail said that he was away at the outlet mall, but I should leave a message and he'd get back to destroying my life and tempting me with sinful desires as soon as possible.

I told him I wanted to settle this silly 'good versus evil' business once and for all, and have him participate in a friendly-but-firm debate with God. I was sick of millions of people killing each other in the name of good and evil, and I thought it would be diplomatic at best to hear both sides of the story. His receptionist called me back and told me he'd be there (surprisingly, he had an opening), but would arrive 10 minutes late, as he is the Master of Torture and Agony. And just to prove he wasn't kidding around, he made it 15 minutes instead. I was also told to have plenty of Fresca available, as it was his favorite beverage.

Next, I got Heaven on the line and dialed the Big Man's extension (*0002; I guess *0001 is reserved for Jimmy Carter). He didn't pick up at first, because He has caller ID and was trying to dodge me for forgetting my birthday this year. I left Him a message telling Him that He was forgiven, and He called me back personally, no less than a minute later:


CDP: "Hello?"

GOD: "Hey, CDP. It's Me."

CDP: "Hey! What's up, 'G?"

GOD: "Not much, man. I'm rhyming and stealing like MCA, and I'm dropping more miracles than Dr. J."

CDP: "Sweet. Listen, thanks for calling me back so soon. By the way, that whole birthday thing-"

GOD: "I have an excuse. My intern was supposed to get you a card, and-"

CDP: "Water under the bridge, man."

GOD: "Thanks for understanding."

CDP: "So anyways, you know that today's the Day of the Beast, right?"

GOD: "Dude, don't remind me. I've had people praying to me all day today. Fox News has the country on an Orange Alert, for My sakes. I've been working so hard up here, I haven't even taken My lunch break yet. Don't people remember that I help those that help themselves?"

CDP: "I thought that You never actually said that."

GOD: "Well, if I didn't, I should have. What's your point?"

CDP: "Well, I was wondering if you could stop down here for a bit this afternoon. I've got Satan coming up to debate you- you know, maybe settle this matter once and for all?"

GOD: "You really should have asked Me about this beforehand."

CDP: "I guess I didn't think You'd have a problem with it."

GOD: "It's not that I have a problem with it, but I'm going to be busy this afternoon. I'm having abdominal surgery. It's nothing serious, but I'm not supposed to walk for a while afterwards, you know?"

CDP: "Oh. Sorry, man."

GOD: "I'll be fine. Listen, how about if I send Jesus down in My place? I mean, we're basically the same person, and He needs to get out of the house anyways."

CDP: "Sweet! Send him down at noon, and tell Him to bring some tortilla roll-ups."

GOD: "You guys still have Fresca down there? He loves that stuff."

CDP: "No problem. Hey, before you go, can I ask you a question?"

GOD: "Sure, what's on your mind?"

CDP: "When I get up there, what's my room going to look like?"

GOD: "Right now, I've got you in the 'Aloha Room,' which is sort of Hawiian theme. It's right next to the ice machine, but you're only two doors away from Marilyn Monroe."

CDP: "I'll take it."


TOMORROW: Part 2 of 3.

On an unrelated note, I want to wish a happy birthday to Benjamin:

Happy Birthday, Ben!

This stache's for you, buddy:

Happy Birthday, Ben!

Sound off in the comments section; see you tomorrow.

I think you scared everyone.

Happy Birthday Ben.
I do that sometimes.
Day of the Beast? More like week of the beast, you hit-counter whore. Just post the whole story.
Some people just don't appreciate the art of telling a good story. If there's a natural act break in the piece, an act break must be made. I have no control over this; it's in a book somewhere.

After about 400 of these posts, I know now that it's better to stretch something comfortably over the course of a few days than to chunk it all together into a bulky, dialogue-driven rant. It builds tension, allows me to work on other things in the process, and it generates "buzz," "zazz" and "tangy zip."

Also, people want to know how it ends, so they'll come back tomorrow. It doesn't make me a whore, it makes me a businessman, which only implies that I'm a whore.

Not to mention no one wants to read something as long as this would be if you didn't break it up. I know I don't.

Ben, that moustache makes you look like a 1980's zoological researcher. Ryan, that moustache makes you look like Bart when he is parking the car for the mob so he can steal their hood ornament.
Trust me, I had it in one lump post, and all the dialogue breaks were hard on the eyes. People would have lost interest even quicker than they are right now.

"Eh, lemme park-a your car, the way mama used to."
that last picture made me snarf fresca and you KNOW how painful that is
Hey Fidge, good to see you around.

Remember, Fresca is the carbonated beverage of the Gods.
Thanks for the happy birthday.
That picture is hilarious.

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