Simpsons Springfield
19-12-2003, 22:22
It slumbered there in its bed, as cozy as a cinnamon bun. Wet drool trickled down its lip and it snored violently. A sinner he was and God did not tolerate sinners. No, sinners were intolerable -- and the only way to save them was to frighten them to death with the horrors of Hell.
So begins my story. The wicked one who sleeps with the loud snore and the drooling lip is I, Homer J. Simpson. A sinner I was, and a sinner I am. But what I endured was remarkable. Some say I'm lying to gain attention. Others say I was intoxicated at the time of this happening. Fools, they are indeed. God sent me on this journey to rediscover my faith and turn me away from the works of sin.
It all began one snowy Sunday morning. Or shall I say, a very snowy, frigid morning. Marge had awaken me and told me to get dressed for church. I grumbled and moaned until she sighed and left me. I cared not, for I was as cozy as a cinnamon bun. Nothing would budge me from thy bed, except the call of nature. The yearning to leave. Actually, no, I really had to pee and tying my penis in a knot had already failed me on three separate occasions.
I entered our bathroom, yawning, and took my morning leak. I lumbered back into our bedroom, slipped my slippers and robe on, and descended down our stairs into our sacred room. The most venerated person dwelled there -- our television. I searched for hours for the damn remote (or was it minutes?) and I found it lying gently underneath the cusion. I flicked on the TV and surfed from channel to channel, finding nothing. Then hope took refuge in our living room, a prayer service was interrupted for a football game! I was astounded and thanked my lord, Jebus, for this act of pity on an obese man. Little did I know that my journey was to commence soon.
Three knocks I heard, I did, coming from the outdoors. I trudged unwillfully to our front door and answered the one whom had knocked. To my utter surprise it Colonel Wilhelm Klink. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped, letting the half-eaten burrito that was being chewed by me fall to the ground.
http://membres.lycos.fr/snipers/klink.gif
"Colonel Klink!" I said with glee.
"Homer, I have come to guide you and take you on a spiritual voyage. A voyage to Hell," he responded thus to my remark.
"Spiritual voyage, eh?" I said.
He satisfied the question, "Yes, one to make you a true believer once more. One to turn thou away from the path of sin."
"But Master," said I, "Why? Why now must we depart? Cannot we wait until thy football game is completed? 'Tis the playoffs indeed!"
"Homer, stop talking like that. And we're goin' whether you like it or not!"
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the street, while I screamed hysterically. But no one could hear my cry, for God had deafened them.
"Now, Homer, you must understand Hell. You may never utter the word God, Christ, or Heaven in such a place. 'Tis forbidden. Now, Hell is like a funnel. It cuts deep into the Earth, with nine levels -- each one narrower than the previous. Each one with greater sinners. Come, my son, and we shall proceed to the first level of Hell -- Limbo -- where the virtuous pagans and die hard Red Sox fans are damned to spend eternity. Well, I wouldn't say damned, as there is no physical suffering in Limbo, but they will never be able to see the beauty of God. And God is pretty good-looking! Straight teeth, full head of hair, and a smile that could set a thousand ships to sail. Heck, that's how the Crusades began! Oh yes, before we enter Limbo, we must cross the Acheron -- Charon will ferry us across."
And so we descended into the outer limits of Hell. A great, golden gate stood there with this inscription:
THROUGH ME GO INTO THE CITY OF GRIEF,
THROUGH ME YOU GO INTO THE PAIN THAT IS ETERNAL,
THROUGH ME YOU GO ALONG PEOPLE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY EXALTED CREATOR;
THE DIVINE POWER MADE ME,
THE SUPREME POWER, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME ALL CREATED THINGS WERE ETERNAL,
AND ETERNAL I WILL LAST,
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO PROBLEM,
YOU ARE STILL DAMNED.
"D'oh!" I uttered after reading the last line, thinking I had found a loophole to escape the depths of Hell I surely would encounter.
We pushed open the gate and a loud echo boomed and spirits howled as they flew out into the air. There a river ran, where Charon ferried the damned souls across the Acheron.
When we approached him, Charon said this, "Homer Simpson?! You're not due here for six months! Go back to Earth!"
"D'oh!"
My Master interrupted Charon, "We have come here to scare this sinner into full repentence of his sins and his conversion from a slob to a dignified, moralistic Christian."
"Very well, but beware..." Charon said.
"Of what?" I asked.
"Homer, just shut up." my Master said.
We stepped into the crowded boat, which was full of doomed souls. The boat was not only as packed with souls as China is with people, but it served German potato salad and all the hot dogs had been eaten. I remember weeping silently while we sailed to Limbo. When we docked at Limbo, my Master and I stepped off the ship and commenced our holy journey.
Limbo was a quiet place, indeed. A sad awareness encompassed this level of Hell.
I asked my Master, "What's everyone's problem? Today's football!"
And my guide answered me, "Homer, you buffoon, they're depressed because if they had been baptized Christians, they would be enjoying those luxorious strip clubs up in the land where He reigns."
"Who's he? Superman?" I asked.
"No Homer, the Powerful One. The One who reigns over paradise."
"Mohamed?"
"NO, HOMER! GOD! G-O-D! GOD! Oh shit, I shouldn't have said that," my Master said as he slapped his forehead.
The ground shook violently and the rocks fell down the dark hole known as Hell. My Master waved his hands and pointed to a winding stone staircase where we hurried down into the next level of Hell, Doggie Hell.
Here I saw these poor canines weep and whimper as their overseers, winged cats with gigantic whips, punished them for their sins.
"What sins could a dog have done? The One did not grant the choice of free will to them!" I said aloud.
And my guide, "These dogs have committed crimes against religious leaders. Or the Powerful One damned them to Hell for being loyal to their sinful masters. By being obediant to these sinners without rebelling and spreading the Word, those dogs were damned to Hell also."
A weird look overcame my face.
"Who is that?" said I, pointing to one of the dogs that had just been severely whipped.
My Master answered, "He is Blondie, the dog of Hitler," said he, "And over there," he continued while pointing to another nearby dog, "Is Checkers, the dog of Richard Nixon -- who was sent to Hell for lying and cheating. And over there is one of the Lassies, the one that mauled Jimmy."
"Meh. Let's get going," I said.
And so we descended into the third level of Hell, where single mothers and abortionists were punished. Their skin would be torn off and the revealed flesh would have salt poured upon it. All the while, the 'victims' would be watching a cheesy reality show featuring, dare I say, Tom Arnold!
"Why have these souls been damned, Master?" I inquired.
"They abandoned the Bible and its sayings. A true Christian follows the Bible literally, no matter how illogical or contradictory to other scriptures it may be. A true Christian will give birth to a child married, not single. It matters not if they have been raped, for they have nine months to get married! And those who have had abortions, are denied entrance into the Kingdom, for they have taken one's life! Only through eternal punishment will that lost life be justified," he answered.
I nodded and stroked my chin.
"Let's get going onto the next level, I promised Marge that I'd be home for dinner."
Another winding staircase we walked down, and I was exhausted. It hadn't been since grade school that I had got any decent exercise, so this was a tiring experience for me. Being a lazy, fat American is tough, y'know...
The fourth level nearly stopped my heart (or was it just another heart attack?). This was the level were those who committed the mortal sin of gluttony were punished. The sinner would be seated in a room and force-fed the food that they had 'needlessly' devoured during their lifetime. They would be fed non-stop for fifteen days straight (as told by my Master) with no chance to relieve themselves at all.
One room caught my eye.
"Mmmm... donuts," I said as drool trickled down my chin.
"So, you wish to continue your gluttony? Perhaps you should be given a taste of eternal damnation!" my Master outburst.
Three green, horned demons swarmed me immediately and strapped me down to the Chair of Damnation. Two of the demons exited the room, laughing under their breaths.
"So... you like donuts, eh? How about you have all the donuts in the world!" the remaining demons said to me as dozens of donuts began to flood into my mouth.
Twenty minutes later, I had devoured them all.
"I can't believe he ate them all."
Thus, we proceeded to the next level, the fifth level where evolutionists were punished. The level was a huge bowling ally, where horned and winged demons alike bowled with the heads of a sinner. The lane where the head rolled down was coated with sulfuric acid and the pins were covered with many sharp spikes. Pointy spikes! That burn with the fires of a thousand evils! Here, the minions of Satan laughed jovially as they enjoyed the human suffering (the heads were conscience of where they were and they felt pain).
"Oh, stop monkeying around!" one said to his friend, laughing heartily after acing a strike with the head of Darwin.
The sixth level we went to. You can easily tell that we were on a tight schedule with these brief descriptions of each level of Hell, but hey, it was Porkchop Night!
The sixth level was the city of Dis. Although, I was pretty sure that Dis was somewhere else on the map of Hell, after reading Dante's Inferno. Wait, that was just the Bible.
Inside the brick walls of Dis were fiery tombs of wicked men (also known as homosexuals). Above of us, Lucifer's angels circled like vultures do over their prey. Occasionally, these angels would swoop down and jab their spear through a sinner's stomach and pull him or her up into the skies with them. They would then drop the heathen to the dirt ground. While they lay on the ground, hornets and wasps dove down and stung them relentlessly. Left and right, thuds echoed and men wept while the angels laughed menacingly.
"Why have the fruitcakes been damned so terribly?" asked I.
My guide satisfied my request, "For they interacted sexually with those of the same sex. Such an act is offensive to the Great One, who happens to be homophobic. Love of one of the same sex is damned by He, for only love of a man and woman can be pure. No explanation can be given, for it is unexplainable."
The seventh and eighth levels of Hell were specifically reserved for the creators of the Friday the 13th series. Their punishments were to endure the beasts they created, including Jason Voorhees. Time after time they would be slain, although they never fell into an unconscious sleep from the extreme pain. Always, they would have to feel the pain from the horrors that they had created.
"And I liked those movies... they seem so original," I said.
And my Master, "Surely you cannot believe such a thing! Now come, we descend into the last level of Hell where Lucifer himself resides."
I felt a sharp pain as we entered the last level of Hell. I looked up and there I saw him. Satan. He resembled my neighbor Ned Flanders! He stood at a monumenental size, at least five stories tall. His muscles bulged and his bat-like wings flapped sending waves of putrid air into my Master and I's faces. In his left hand (left-handed people were damned to Hell also), he held a black triton. Satan chewed on the ones who God despised the most -- the Muslims. Despite mentioning Jesus in the Koran and having many of the same morals as Christianity, God had deemed the Muslims as an affront to Christianity. A plague that must be vanquished. Any Muslim child who did not convert to either Judaism or Christianity by the age of six was eternally doomed.
"It is done," my Master said and the vision of Hell faded away from my eyes.
There I was. At home once more, but flames encompassed me.
"Oh no!" I said, "this is the end! I know you're out there somewhere... save me Colonel Klink! Save me!"
Suddenly, a mysterious figure crashed through my window and threw me over his shoulder... somehow. He carried my ash-soaked body outside and laid me down on our lawn. Everything was blurry and as it became clearer I could see who saved me. It was Ned Flanders.
Marge ran to me and knelt down.
"Oh Homey, I'm so glad you're okay. What happened?"
I smiled, I had been saved by Satan.
So begins my story. The wicked one who sleeps with the loud snore and the drooling lip is I, Homer J. Simpson. A sinner I was, and a sinner I am. But what I endured was remarkable. Some say I'm lying to gain attention. Others say I was intoxicated at the time of this happening. Fools, they are indeed. God sent me on this journey to rediscover my faith and turn me away from the works of sin.
It all began one snowy Sunday morning. Or shall I say, a very snowy, frigid morning. Marge had awaken me and told me to get dressed for church. I grumbled and moaned until she sighed and left me. I cared not, for I was as cozy as a cinnamon bun. Nothing would budge me from thy bed, except the call of nature. The yearning to leave. Actually, no, I really had to pee and tying my penis in a knot had already failed me on three separate occasions.
I entered our bathroom, yawning, and took my morning leak. I lumbered back into our bedroom, slipped my slippers and robe on, and descended down our stairs into our sacred room. The most venerated person dwelled there -- our television. I searched for hours for the damn remote (or was it minutes?) and I found it lying gently underneath the cusion. I flicked on the TV and surfed from channel to channel, finding nothing. Then hope took refuge in our living room, a prayer service was interrupted for a football game! I was astounded and thanked my lord, Jebus, for this act of pity on an obese man. Little did I know that my journey was to commence soon.
Three knocks I heard, I did, coming from the outdoors. I trudged unwillfully to our front door and answered the one whom had knocked. To my utter surprise it Colonel Wilhelm Klink. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped, letting the half-eaten burrito that was being chewed by me fall to the ground.
http://membres.lycos.fr/snipers/klink.gif
"Colonel Klink!" I said with glee.
"Homer, I have come to guide you and take you on a spiritual voyage. A voyage to Hell," he responded thus to my remark.
"Spiritual voyage, eh?" I said.
He satisfied the question, "Yes, one to make you a true believer once more. One to turn thou away from the path of sin."
"But Master," said I, "Why? Why now must we depart? Cannot we wait until thy football game is completed? 'Tis the playoffs indeed!"
"Homer, stop talking like that. And we're goin' whether you like it or not!"
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the street, while I screamed hysterically. But no one could hear my cry, for God had deafened them.
"Now, Homer, you must understand Hell. You may never utter the word God, Christ, or Heaven in such a place. 'Tis forbidden. Now, Hell is like a funnel. It cuts deep into the Earth, with nine levels -- each one narrower than the previous. Each one with greater sinners. Come, my son, and we shall proceed to the first level of Hell -- Limbo -- where the virtuous pagans and die hard Red Sox fans are damned to spend eternity. Well, I wouldn't say damned, as there is no physical suffering in Limbo, but they will never be able to see the beauty of God. And God is pretty good-looking! Straight teeth, full head of hair, and a smile that could set a thousand ships to sail. Heck, that's how the Crusades began! Oh yes, before we enter Limbo, we must cross the Acheron -- Charon will ferry us across."
And so we descended into the outer limits of Hell. A great, golden gate stood there with this inscription:
THROUGH ME GO INTO THE CITY OF GRIEF,
THROUGH ME YOU GO INTO THE PAIN THAT IS ETERNAL,
THROUGH ME YOU GO ALONG PEOPLE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY EXALTED CREATOR;
THE DIVINE POWER MADE ME,
THE SUPREME POWER, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME ALL CREATED THINGS WERE ETERNAL,
AND ETERNAL I WILL LAST,
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO PROBLEM,
YOU ARE STILL DAMNED.
"D'oh!" I uttered after reading the last line, thinking I had found a loophole to escape the depths of Hell I surely would encounter.
We pushed open the gate and a loud echo boomed and spirits howled as they flew out into the air. There a river ran, where Charon ferried the damned souls across the Acheron.
When we approached him, Charon said this, "Homer Simpson?! You're not due here for six months! Go back to Earth!"
"D'oh!"
My Master interrupted Charon, "We have come here to scare this sinner into full repentence of his sins and his conversion from a slob to a dignified, moralistic Christian."
"Very well, but beware..." Charon said.
"Of what?" I asked.
"Homer, just shut up." my Master said.
We stepped into the crowded boat, which was full of doomed souls. The boat was not only as packed with souls as China is with people, but it served German potato salad and all the hot dogs had been eaten. I remember weeping silently while we sailed to Limbo. When we docked at Limbo, my Master and I stepped off the ship and commenced our holy journey.
Limbo was a quiet place, indeed. A sad awareness encompassed this level of Hell.
I asked my Master, "What's everyone's problem? Today's football!"
And my guide answered me, "Homer, you buffoon, they're depressed because if they had been baptized Christians, they would be enjoying those luxorious strip clubs up in the land where He reigns."
"Who's he? Superman?" I asked.
"No Homer, the Powerful One. The One who reigns over paradise."
"Mohamed?"
"NO, HOMER! GOD! G-O-D! GOD! Oh shit, I shouldn't have said that," my Master said as he slapped his forehead.
The ground shook violently and the rocks fell down the dark hole known as Hell. My Master waved his hands and pointed to a winding stone staircase where we hurried down into the next level of Hell, Doggie Hell.
Here I saw these poor canines weep and whimper as their overseers, winged cats with gigantic whips, punished them for their sins.
"What sins could a dog have done? The One did not grant the choice of free will to them!" I said aloud.
And my guide, "These dogs have committed crimes against religious leaders. Or the Powerful One damned them to Hell for being loyal to their sinful masters. By being obediant to these sinners without rebelling and spreading the Word, those dogs were damned to Hell also."
A weird look overcame my face.
"Who is that?" said I, pointing to one of the dogs that had just been severely whipped.
My Master answered, "He is Blondie, the dog of Hitler," said he, "And over there," he continued while pointing to another nearby dog, "Is Checkers, the dog of Richard Nixon -- who was sent to Hell for lying and cheating. And over there is one of the Lassies, the one that mauled Jimmy."
"Meh. Let's get going," I said.
And so we descended into the third level of Hell, where single mothers and abortionists were punished. Their skin would be torn off and the revealed flesh would have salt poured upon it. All the while, the 'victims' would be watching a cheesy reality show featuring, dare I say, Tom Arnold!
"Why have these souls been damned, Master?" I inquired.
"They abandoned the Bible and its sayings. A true Christian follows the Bible literally, no matter how illogical or contradictory to other scriptures it may be. A true Christian will give birth to a child married, not single. It matters not if they have been raped, for they have nine months to get married! And those who have had abortions, are denied entrance into the Kingdom, for they have taken one's life! Only through eternal punishment will that lost life be justified," he answered.
I nodded and stroked my chin.
"Let's get going onto the next level, I promised Marge that I'd be home for dinner."
Another winding staircase we walked down, and I was exhausted. It hadn't been since grade school that I had got any decent exercise, so this was a tiring experience for me. Being a lazy, fat American is tough, y'know...
The fourth level nearly stopped my heart (or was it just another heart attack?). This was the level were those who committed the mortal sin of gluttony were punished. The sinner would be seated in a room and force-fed the food that they had 'needlessly' devoured during their lifetime. They would be fed non-stop for fifteen days straight (as told by my Master) with no chance to relieve themselves at all.
One room caught my eye.
"Mmmm... donuts," I said as drool trickled down my chin.
"So, you wish to continue your gluttony? Perhaps you should be given a taste of eternal damnation!" my Master outburst.
Three green, horned demons swarmed me immediately and strapped me down to the Chair of Damnation. Two of the demons exited the room, laughing under their breaths.
"So... you like donuts, eh? How about you have all the donuts in the world!" the remaining demons said to me as dozens of donuts began to flood into my mouth.
Twenty minutes later, I had devoured them all.
"I can't believe he ate them all."
Thus, we proceeded to the next level, the fifth level where evolutionists were punished. The level was a huge bowling ally, where horned and winged demons alike bowled with the heads of a sinner. The lane where the head rolled down was coated with sulfuric acid and the pins were covered with many sharp spikes. Pointy spikes! That burn with the fires of a thousand evils! Here, the minions of Satan laughed jovially as they enjoyed the human suffering (the heads were conscience of where they were and they felt pain).
"Oh, stop monkeying around!" one said to his friend, laughing heartily after acing a strike with the head of Darwin.
The sixth level we went to. You can easily tell that we were on a tight schedule with these brief descriptions of each level of Hell, but hey, it was Porkchop Night!
The sixth level was the city of Dis. Although, I was pretty sure that Dis was somewhere else on the map of Hell, after reading Dante's Inferno. Wait, that was just the Bible.
Inside the brick walls of Dis were fiery tombs of wicked men (also known as homosexuals). Above of us, Lucifer's angels circled like vultures do over their prey. Occasionally, these angels would swoop down and jab their spear through a sinner's stomach and pull him or her up into the skies with them. They would then drop the heathen to the dirt ground. While they lay on the ground, hornets and wasps dove down and stung them relentlessly. Left and right, thuds echoed and men wept while the angels laughed menacingly.
"Why have the fruitcakes been damned so terribly?" asked I.
My guide satisfied my request, "For they interacted sexually with those of the same sex. Such an act is offensive to the Great One, who happens to be homophobic. Love of one of the same sex is damned by He, for only love of a man and woman can be pure. No explanation can be given, for it is unexplainable."
The seventh and eighth levels of Hell were specifically reserved for the creators of the Friday the 13th series. Their punishments were to endure the beasts they created, including Jason Voorhees. Time after time they would be slain, although they never fell into an unconscious sleep from the extreme pain. Always, they would have to feel the pain from the horrors that they had created.
"And I liked those movies... they seem so original," I said.
And my Master, "Surely you cannot believe such a thing! Now come, we descend into the last level of Hell where Lucifer himself resides."
I felt a sharp pain as we entered the last level of Hell. I looked up and there I saw him. Satan. He resembled my neighbor Ned Flanders! He stood at a monumenental size, at least five stories tall. His muscles bulged and his bat-like wings flapped sending waves of putrid air into my Master and I's faces. In his left hand (left-handed people were damned to Hell also), he held a black triton. Satan chewed on the ones who God despised the most -- the Muslims. Despite mentioning Jesus in the Koran and having many of the same morals as Christianity, God had deemed the Muslims as an affront to Christianity. A plague that must be vanquished. Any Muslim child who did not convert to either Judaism or Christianity by the age of six was eternally doomed.
"It is done," my Master said and the vision of Hell faded away from my eyes.
There I was. At home once more, but flames encompassed me.
"Oh no!" I said, "this is the end! I know you're out there somewhere... save me Colonel Klink! Save me!"
Suddenly, a mysterious figure crashed through my window and threw me over his shoulder... somehow. He carried my ash-soaked body outside and laid me down on our lawn. Everything was blurry and as it became clearer I could see who saved me. It was Ned Flanders.
Marge ran to me and knelt down.
"Oh Homey, I'm so glad you're okay. What happened?"
I smiled, I had been saved by Satan.