Weredevil — Chapter Nineteen

by Arnold Snyder

 

“Uncle Luke, the gucksuckers don’t want to die,” Brent said, “and they know they’re in Hell for eternity.”

Uncle Luke looked up from his computer screen. “You talked to them?” he said.

We were in Uncle Luke’s office in the back room of his house.

“Yeah, me and Sebastian and Brandi went down there yesterday.”

“They don’t really seem to be suffering much,” I said. “All they do is eat and shit, eat and shit. It’s sure not as bad as what Jesus was going through getting eaten and being shat.”

“They’re all getting eaten and being shat,” Uncle Luke said. “The gucksucker positions rotate. First, you’re a male gucksucker, then you’re human, then you’re a female gucksucker, then you’re back to human. You stay in one form just until you start to get used to it; then you change.”

“So, Jesus was also a gucksucker eating people sometimes?”

“Damn straight he was. They all take turns. He’d just recently changed from being a female gucksucker back to his human form. That’s why we had to get down there fast to get him. I didn’t want to bring him back to Earth as a gucksucker.”

“Why not?” Brent said. “He’s Jesus. He could just change into whatever he wanted to be.”

“I was afraid he might have lost his omnipotence. I didn’t want to chance it and I sure didn’t want a gucksucker living in my house. Jesus is hard enough to deal with as a human. As it turned out, my worries were justified. I’m still waiting for him to get his full omnipotence back.”

“But we don’t want to die, Unc,” I said. “And neither do the gucksuckers. So, we think it would be a bad idea for Jesus to kill God.”

“I don’t know if we have to worry about it that much,” Uncle Luke said. “Jesus is off the deep end. He’s drinking, popping pills, whatever he can get his hands on. He’s in bad shape, fellas.”

“Is he still living in your basement?” I asked.

“When he comes home. But a lot of nights he stays out. I don’t know where. He’s going to strip clubs and brothels and massage parlors. He’s making up for lost time. He’s been running around with girls he picks up in bars downtown. Boys too, I think. He was so drunk last night, he made a pass at me. But he’s here now. He’s downstairs sleeping it off.”

Just then there was a loud clattering noise that seemed to come from the basement.

“He’s walking trouble,” Uncle Luke said, standing up, looking exasperated.

Brent and I got up also.

“Let’s go see,” Brent said.

As soon as Uncle Luke opened the door that led to the basement stairway, we smelled smoke.

We followed Uncle Luke down the stairs.

Jesus was wearing jeans but no shirt. His feet were bare. A lit cigarette was dangling from his lips, smoke curling up over his face. A naked girl was on her knees in front of him, her head bobbing up and down. Apparently, we’d caught Jesus in the midst of getting a blowjob.

A huge pile of smoking, splintered wood and hardcover books, hundreds of them—many of them lying open with torn singed pages—looked out of place in the otherwise neat rec room.

“What the hell did you do to my bookcase?” Uncle Luke said.

Jesus had a glazed look in his eyes—the look of a man getting his dick sucked—as he turned to look at Uncle Luke. “Watch this,” Jesus said, smiling a wide smile that showed his teeth, pointing an index finger at a large walnut bookcase that dominated the far wall. “Zap,” he said softly and the bookcase shattered as if hit by lightning, accompanied by a loud cracking sound. The crash scared the girl on her knees and she picked up her head suddenly and turned to see what had happened. Her mascara was smeared around her eyes and her cherry-red lipstick was smeared around her mouth. A long string of drool dripped from her lower lip onto her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Ginger,” Jesus said. “I’m just having fun.”

Hundreds more books were now lying tattered and torn and smoking in a bigger pile of splintered wood that stretched across the room.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?” Uncle Luke said. “Have you gone completely mad?”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Jesus said.

“You’re wrecking my library!”

“But I’m getting it back, Luke! I couldn’t do that yesterday.”

Uncle Luke stared at him for a moment, digesting this explanation. Then he said, “Omnipotence?” His scowl drew into a smile. “This is fantastic. This is monumental. We have a lot to talk about.” Uncle Luke went quickly to the couch where Jesus was sitting and sat beside him.

Ginger lowered her head back down to Jesus lap and once more started bobbing up and down slowly and rhythmically.

“Now take it easy, Luke,” Jesus said. “I can’t do everything yet. But it’s coming back. Also, I came up with a new plan.” He looked down at Ginger. “Oh, baby, you are a fucking angel!” he said.

“Does your plan have anything to do with high rises?” Uncle Luke said.

“Better,” Jesus said. “It has to do with my father. There’s a better way to get rid of him without killing him. That means we won’t all have to die.”

“What’s the plan?” Uncle Luke said. “This is exciting. I knew you’d come through for us!”

“Now slow down, Luke. This might take a while to accomplish, but I think it’s doable. I’m thinking I could send my father to Hell, and trap him in his own device, taking away his omnipotence. Let him deal with the gucksuckers for a couple eternities.”

“How can we do that?” Uncle Luke said.

“We can’t do it,” Jesus said. “Only I can do it. But you guys can help. I’m starting to understand now how he took away my power and locked me into Hell. He never planned on me getting out or he would have foreseen the possibility of me getting my strength back. Once I’m fully functional again, I can use the same method on him.

“I only wish I had my omniscience back. I won’t be comfortable trying to pull this off until I can foresee how it’ll work. So, you have to give me time. If we make our move too soon, we could blow everything. Holy fuck, Ginger!” Jesus threw his head back. “Yes! Yes! Oh, baby, that’s it! Oh! Oh! Oh! Hallefuckinlujah!”

As Jesus flopped back onto the sofa spent, Ginger lifted her head, then stood up. She kicked at Jesus’ shin and he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“That’s four thousand,” she said.

“Four thousand what?” Jesus said, sounding truly baffled.

“Dollars,” she said. “You told me you’d trade me a boob job for a blow job. Boob jobs cost four thousand.”

Jesus sat up. “Let me see your tits,” he said.

She picked up her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“What size do you want ’em?” Jesus asked.

“Double-D cups,” she said.

He reached out with both hands and cupped them over her breasts. They immediately grew to the size of large canta-loupes. He removed his hands and admired his work.

Ginger was staring at her tits in awe.

“Wow,” I said. “Nice fucking titties!”

“Sebastian!” Uncle Luke gave me a stern look.

“It’s a rack made in heaven,” Jesus said.

“Jesus!” Uncle Luke turned his stern look toward Jesus. “We’re trying to have a business meeting here, gentlemen. We’re attempting to save not only all of humanity, and not only this universe, but every universe created since time began. And all you two can focus on is a couple of mammaries?”

“What do you think of them, Luke?” Jesus said.

Ginger turned toward Uncle Luke, thrust out her chest and shimmied her titties proudly.

Uncle Luke looked at her. “Okay, I admit they’re awfully damn nice. But let’s get back to the issue at hand. Jesus, we need to know what can we do to help you accomplish what must be done to render your father permanently null and void?”

“Nothing right now,” Jesus said. “I’ll need you guys and the other weredevils when it’s time to go for it, but we have to be very careful. If my father discovers I’m out of Hell and all the Cherubim are out of Hell, game over. We are done for. He’ll blow his stack and we’ll all be on our way back to eternal misery. He’s a vindictive bastard. He’ll make Hell worse than it’s ever been and he’ll make sure we never escape again.”

Go to Chapter Twenty . . .

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