by Peter Dudnik.

They were worse than terrorists; they were lazy, bankrupt, godless drug addicts. They were the American nightmare and they should have died off, but no, they couldn’t even do that! They survived better than cockroaches. Four miserable generations of pleasure-pursuing rats still clung to their sorry lives in No Libertyville, U.S.A., where they occupied a condemned church that defied the laws of gravity. And ever since they moved into God’s house, the whole town suffered. Just this year No Libertyville crumbled under a sizzling heat-wave, two wicked tornados, a first-rate hurricane, an incredible economic crash, one memorable earthquake and an absolutely spectacular flood. Finally, just last month crude oil rained down from the blue sky! You should have seen it! Half the country was covered in a black slick! I half expected Americans to dump Me and turn to atheism, but the police and the press just kept blaming foreign terrorists and thanking my beloved petroleum industry for the free oil! So, most people just continued praying as they always had, as if the apocalypse had never happened.

I say most people because that damn Bollocks family had clay for brains. No matter what I threw at them, they wouldn’t pray, as least not to Me. They wouldn’t even take the hint to crawl back to where cockroaches belong, you know what I mean! I think they call it Canada!

But I wasn’t done yet. Last week the government revealed they were monitoring every prayer in the country and warned if anyone was caught not saying the right things they’d be crucified on cable television! That’s harsh, but harsh measures were needed to stop America from going the way of the dodo bird.

The trouble was that damn Bollocks family never watched CNN, FOX, CBS, NBC or USBS! So, they didn’t hear the warning. Still, I didn’t give up on making my point.

The next day, a young federal agent named Atticus Finch threw eggs at their windows and scrawled the words, “Get out of town!” on their doors. Unfortunately it rained that day.

I decided to get serious. The next Sunday morning, 10,000 special ops Blue Angels surrounded that rat-infested old church with heavy artillery. They also cut off all the underground escape routes and posted snipers in the steeple and the trees. It was like D-Day plus Vietnam!

While our targets had dinner, a large black vehicle almost parked on the front steps. A window was lowered and you could hear me shout, “MERRY CHRISTMAS, BOLLOCKS! your HOME LOOKS LIKE HELL and all your neighbors WANT TO KILL YOU! GET OUT BEFORE I SEND IN THE DOZERS! THIS LAND IS SLATED TO BECOME RABBIT RESERVE A-21!”

I waited. The front door creaked open. My Blue Angels took aim. From the darkness behind the doors, a thing emerged; a one-eyed rabbit hopped down the cracked stone steps and licked a hamburger wrapper near the massive tire. Then it looked up and smiled. Maybe it was cute, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“MR DAMN BOLLOCKS, STEP OUT AND SAY YOUR PRAYERS!”

This time the door slammed open. Damn stumbled through and grumbled, “Who’s here?”

He was kind of hearing impaired, so I used my powers and transmitted my voice straight into his thick skull: “Damn Bollocks, the President of the United States of America has declared war against your family.”

“Why?”

“Mr Damn Bollocks,” the voice in his head continued, “for your own safety, everything is classified and secret. Now, be aware that you stand surrounded by 10,000 troops, so please give peace a chance and put your hands in the air.”

“Give—holy shit! What country is this, anyway?” He was pretty mad. “I’ve had it! I’m gonna immigrate to China!”

“Sorry, for your own safety you are on our No-Fly list.”

“I have rights! I have rights!” he cried and fired into the air.

“You think you have rights,” the voice in his head corrected him.

“Coward! Come out and talk to me like a man!”

“Damn Bollocks, forty years ago I gave you a temporary permit to live; I could take that permit away faster than you can say, ‘Amen.’ Don’t make me whoop your ass!”

He should have surrendered on the spot, but not Damn Bollocks! The madman fired everywhere, and before I could whoop him, three more shotguns smashed through a window and took aim at the mystery in the sky.

“Damn,” I said, “you can’t shoot what you can’t see! Give me the gun!”

He was busy ransacking the huge security vehicle in his driveway.

“I can’t what?” he asked, stepping back out. “Could you repeat that?” He scanned the tops of the trees.

“Damn Bollocks, you haven’t earned the honor to see my face. Be reasonable! I have a nice place waiting for your family. Don’t delay. A tornado is scheduled to arrive.”

“A tornado, huh? Good! Maybe it could clean up this mess!”

“Vacate now and I won’t charge you with tax evasion or sue you for defaulting on your rent or mortgage or whatever you have. The legal papers can be in the mail tomorrow.”

“Forget it, I don’t take mail! Show me the whites of your eyes and you’ll have a deal!” he lied as he swung his shotgun around.

I should have blown the God-forsaken place up. I would have done it too, if I hadn’t remembered Chuck Bollocks. He was one of the last living souls that still genuinely respected Me, so I spared the place and retired to my lair to plan a day of justice.

 

God’s Job

 

Chuck Bollocks is just about the only human being I’ll ever admit to creating. He was a true saint and crusader. He would throw his life away for Me in a heartbeat. The Monsanto engineer his mother slept with said she would bear a higher being, and that was the truth. Nothing could stop the boy from saving the world and being an all-round success.

As for the boy’s lazy, lying, drug addict mother, Penny Bollocks, don’t you pay no heed to all her negativity. She never could see the intelligence of my designs.

As for the boy’s welfare father, the well-named Damn Bollocks, he was worse than the mother. He started life as an ordinary cockroach and then “evolved” into a leech. He claimed sole ownership of his wife’s natural resources, exploited them and did little to maintain her health or share her wealth. He never even let his own boy breastfeed!

And Chuck’s sister was a freak of nature. As Supreme Author of this Universe, I wash my hands of her. She could have been an angel, but her determination to stay home destined her for Hell.

But Chuck was my boy. He believed in Me unconditionally, in all my wars, machines and thunder storms. He loved to see Me hurl stuff through the sky. He’d watch storms while tied to lightning rods on rooftops. No damage or injury could lessen his enthusiasm. He even dreamed of riding a tornado up into Heaven, just like he was a cowboy. Don’t ask Me why. Maybe he heard some rumor about me having a 360 television screen, bikini-clad nurses, prescription beer and Soothing Sunlight^™. Anyway, he kept asking Me to take him up. He was nice enough and all, but the fool had no idea what my needs were. That was his only flaw, I guess.

Anyway, one afternoon, after hearing him praying for Me to come quick and abduct him from his godless family, I decided to enlighten him a little. “Forget it, Chuck! I’m not doing anything for you until you get a job!!”

He blinked awake. The words “get a job” echoed in his damaged little brain. He grabbed a nearby paper box of deep-fried calories and half wondered how he could get a job. His heart sank when he remembered that jobs required skills. But, just as his faith faltered a miracle happened. His sister spotted a newspaper, peeled it from the floor and read the unemployment section for her brother:

 

God is punishing America for her godlessness! She needs you to save her from economic disaster and make her the superpower of love! If you have unconditional love for ******, call 202-456-1117[1] to book an interview and get the job of a lifetime! ** This job has the potential to earn infinite rewards and benefits.

 

She had to repeat it for him. Oh, he was feverish with excitement: “Guys, should I go for it? Am I qualified?”

His sister snidely answered, “Let’s see: you’re twenty-two, you dropped out of high school, went back to elementary school, and you never learned a lesson in your life. Duh, of course you’re qualified!”

“Whatever! They don’t care about education! They just need unconditional love. So what do you think? Do I have what it takes?”

“If unconditional love means in no condition to love, you’re the man,” his smartass sister answered.

Chuck swallowed his candy-bar, opened his iGod and asked Me to knock his brazen little sister’s head off. I almost did him the favor, but anyone can knock a girl’s head off, and to be honest I’m a civilized kind of god. So, you know what I did instead? I sent him a drone. It crashed through the roof and lay broken on the altar.

Chuck said it was a miracle. “You see! It’s a sign! This proves it! I’ve been nominated by Heaven!”

His mother disagreed. “Looks to me like God crapped on us again.”

“That must be the seventh delivery this week! He really hates us!” Damn added.

“How can you people be so stupid?” Chuck answered angrily as he pulled the junk out from under the bed. “The Boss did us a favor. Look at this thing! It looks like an angel! We could probably sell it for a fortune on eBay!”

He was pretty excited about that. But the others weren’t buying it. Bitch[2], his sister, said she’d like to return God’s favor. Her mother suggested dropping a █████ on the Whitehouse.

Chuck was horrified. “Shut up! Don’t you know he’s listening?”

“How much longer will he need to put us in prison?” B**** asked.

“You’re all crazy! The Boss does everything for our benefit,” Chuck informed them.

“Are you actually human?” his sister asked. “Or, are you one of those new walking drones?”

He got on his knees and silently asked Me to bury his entire family alive. Although the request seemed a bit excessive, you know Me. I always want to please everyone, I really do, but I just couldn’t. Chuck was too deep in debt to afford a live burial, especially a big one. He soon realized his error and asked to have his family fall violently ill instead. This was more within his budget. However, it wasn’t my style. So I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t stop praying like angel and he even promised to love Me more than decent words can say. What could I do? Could I say no to such a man? Of course I couldn’t.

And so it happened that his dear mother, father, and sister fell ill and painted the room with vomit. By the end of the week, they prayed to Satan for revenge, but even Satan was on my side, so they prayed in vain.

 

Destiny’s Child

 

Chuck’s victory over his family gave him the courage to risk rejection and apply for that job. He dialed, waited and listened while a pre-recorded message told him where to go. You should have seen his face light up! But there was no time to celebrate. He downed the rest of the whiskey bottle, took a few anti-depressants and of course a powerful caffeine pill to help him stay focused during the interview. Then he staggered to the door.

“Don’t forget your ADD and IQ meds!!”

“Right! Thanks, Mom! You saved my life!”

“Good luck, Chuck.”

God knows he needed luck, lots of it. In fact, despite all the meds and despite his GPS, he ended up in a sleazy French strip joint across from the Goldman tower. A task force of Blue Angels arrested him for being unpatriotic and dragged kicking and screaming to his fate.

Well, the interview was a disaster. In the first place, instead of submitting the required resume and cover letter, and instead of answering questions, he just sang this brain damaged song,

 

Yes I Can!

 

I was born in a sewer,

But I never lost hope.

I failed every grade,

’cause I smoke dope.

My experience sucks,

But this is America,

A land of opportunity,

So sooner or later,

U wait and see,

Someone out there

Will take pity on me!

 

The hiring manager had an urge to boot him out, but he had orders from higher up, so he completed the interview and told my chosen one to start work immediately.

Chuck raced home shouting, “I did it! Mom! Dad! LITTLE B****! I got the BEST job!”

His mother vomited. The others did the same.

“Mom! Dad! They even gave me a pre-presidential title! From now on, I’m Lord FreeLuv Incorporated! I’m finally a corporation! Can you believe it? Me! A corporation!”

They nodded. Fact was, nothing was impossible in modern-day U.S.A.

“Well, they said they’re going to spend a billion dollars on developing my love powers.”

His sick sister laughed, “What love powers? You don’t even love your own family; how the f*** will you ever love the whole world?”

He punched a hole in the wall.

“What about a salary, Chuck. Did you remember to talk about money?”

“Sure. But they said dollars are worthless, so they’ll make me famous instead! And that’s not all. If I really impress the Boss, one day they’ll make me President of the Unites States of the World!! Isn’t that awesome?!”

“Son, you are a moron!” said his mother she turned to her husband. “Damn, you tried this job before. Tell him the truth about what it’s like working for the Boss!”

Damn said he didn’t remember much. But no one believed him.

“I’m telling you, some stones are best left unturned. I’m warning you! Don’t pry open a closet I nailed shut two decades ago!”

Chuck said he’d ask the Boss for his father’s work record. Poor Damn knew he was beat.

“All right, have it your way! Are you ready? When I signed up for that job … Son, this isn’t going to be pretty, but no matter how bad things went for me, don’t think you can’t do better.”

“I know, but I want to know what I’ve gotten myself into!”

“You want knowledge? Oh, you don’t know what you’re asking for!”

“Well, I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

“Fine. Let me start at the beginning. I was just a kid, and like any American kid I had big dreams about raking in the dough from anyone and everyone. Luckily, the economy was humming. Interest rates were so low unemployed teens could afford luxury cars, beer stocks and Chinese bonds. Everyone was spending and paying and getting the best jobs spying on the government. You could make a cool million watching your senator fornicate with giant silky rabbits –”

Chuck got into praying position.

The women screamed.

“All right!” Damn cried. “Years ago … okay, decades ago, that same ad was in the papers.”

“Really?” Chuck asked.

“Sure. The Supreme Boss—I think that’s what he used to call himself—was a lot more patient then. Anyway, his public announcement or whatever it was said the economy was hurting because everyone was selfish and lazy. He said we were a bunch of indebted welfare rabbits. He said he was sick of giving us free sunlight and free rain. We tried to love Him, but I guess we didn’t have it in us. So, to cut a long story short, the economy –”

“Dad, you’re all over the place! Tell me about the job! What was your job like?”

“He hired me to be his personal love guru.”

Penny snickered.

“He told me he … I’m quoting here[3] … he needed a love guru because wanted to learn to be more loving. He said he wanted to reform and learn to be patient and generous with rabbits. All rabbits. And he told me if I didn’t teach Him how to love rabbits he’d curse me with a son I’d learn to hate.”

Chuck was skeptical. “Are you sure that’s how it went? You’re not making any of this up?”

“Lying is a lost freedom, kid. The Boss’ got omniscience technology.”

“I know. So what did you do?”

“I put my Bollocks moves on him. Yup, gave him the same lines I gave your mother.”

“How did that go?”

Damn told his son about waterboarding. He thought it was a kind of surfing and said he wasn’t afraid. Damn had never felt prouder in his life. He gave Chuck a manly hug.

“I knew you’d say that! I wasn’t much of a love guru, but you, you’re unique! Your love will conquer any fear!”

“You really think so, Dad?”

“Yes, whatever you put your mind to, you can do. You’ll break all the waterboarding records! You’ll be famous! You might even have a shot at becoming a president!”

Chuck glowed with confidence. “Dad’s right! My love can handle this job! There’s no one who loved America more than me! I’ve been in love with this great country since the day I was born! Maybe before! And there’s nothing my love can’t do, you wait and see. That’s a prophecy!”

His father looked pretty impressed, but not the women. They chuckled and made jokes about his skills. Chuck took offense.

“For your information, Dad and I already spent years refining my love skills! Shut up! I’m not talking about child abuse or pornography! We read Roman novels! We cried over Greek tragedies! Thanks to years of hard work in our private study,” he continued in a lowered his voice, “my love could serve as the foundation of the new world order.…”

The women giggled. Undeterred, Chuck bragged, “I don’t want to mislead anyone, but my love is no ordinary love, my love is spelled l-u-v. Ever hear of anything like it?”

“Sure! All the crackheads are talking about it,” B**** mocked.

Chuck looked to his father for help, but he was under the sheets. His mother too.

B**** continued, “Chuck, it’s so funny to think you still believe in the President. Can’t you hear God laughing about it? Look—El Supremo doesn’t care squat about us or about America Corp. Once we start to stink and leak and ask for medical benefits, we’ll be fired into yesterday. The moment we threaten his bottom line, he’ll dump us!”

Poor, sensitive Chuck struggled against his sinking heart. He put his head between his knees and rocked back and forth whimpering the words of the New American Anthem, “I believe in the goodness of the Supreme Author and Presidential Dictator. He is kind beyond words. He generously gave us life and jobs to pay our bills, but we have forgotten him. He only makes us suffer because he loves us and he wants us to live according to his economic principles.”

“We’re too deeply in debt for economic principles,” B**** rightly observed.

“But we will. We’re just so deeply in debt that we’ve lost hope and direction. But with my infinite luv I’ll resurrect America’s economy! You wait and see!”

“I’ll wait and have my funeral, you fool! America is in too deep. It’s time to jump ship and swim to … to Cuba!”

“It’s never too late, little girl! Not with my luv! Why, my luv could fuel a nuclear power plant! China, Japan, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan and all our greedy creditors will soon lay down their arms and accept my luv!”

Chuck’s political acumen was awesome and his confidence was greater than any drunkard’s. He beamed. He strode about the room like a peacock, planted himself under the biggest hole in the roof and beamed up at Me like he just knew I was watching and nodding. Somehow, you just had to love that invincible boy. He had enough determination for the world.

 

America’s Nightmare

 

A strange thing happened. While Chuck was practicing and preparing to make luv to America’s enemies, his luv powers crashed. Panicking, he prayed to God for help, but God wanted nothing to do with this madness. But, he kept trying. He tried praying in all the positions and he tried praying to music, but it was all the same.

“Chuck,” his sister interrupted him one day, “what you need to do is pay God a personal visit. That’s the only way to have a serious conversation with anyone in this stupid age of the digital prayers and telephonics.”

“You think He’d come and talk to me personally?”

“Sure. Dad always said we live in a house of God.”

“It used to be a house of God. In case you haven’t noticed, God doesn’t come around here anymore except to kick in the door and blast the roof.”

“Then maybe you should check the phone book.”

“Right! Why didn’t I think of that!”

He looked under God and Boss and found exactly nothing. Then he asked a lot of religious people about how he could arrange a meeting with God, and they all said he’d have to wait until he was dead. Apparently, the Boss had no physical body and lived on the other side of mortality. Anyway, the next day he asked his mother to have mercy on him and kill him. She was tempted, but still she declined.

“Sorry, I’m not going to jail for you!” his mother explained.

And even his sister didn’t want to help. Infuriated, Chuck left the house and headed downtown looking to get himself killed. It was Christmas, so it should have been easy. The streets were bustling with busy Christmas shoppers. It was the season when children got trampled to death in midnight bargain stampedes. Surely he could manage! He wedged himself into a thick crowd and dropped to the ground. A dog licked happily his face, but mostly he got curses and a shoe in his mouth. Desperate to quit cold and senseless America, he climbed up on a bench and shouted like a madman, “YOU MORONS! I’m a terrorist! THIS JACKET IS LOADED WITH TNT!”

To my own surprise, the crowd was too focused to even notice him.

“YOU ZOMBIES! I’VE GOT TNT PACKED IN MY UNDERWEAR!”

Finally, someone responded. “PROVE IT!” Some kid had called his bluff. He reached for his underwear and at that instant an officer dragged him home.

 

Simply Disgusting

 

“Why are you such an idiot?” his mother demanded.

“Mom, if God won’t come to me, I’ll come to Him!”

His poor mother sighed. “Holly shit, since you’re so determined, I’ll tell you where you can find him.”

“All this time, you knew where to find Him?”

“No, but I know his habits. I once dated him.”

“Get out!” Chuck cried. “Are you kidding me!?”

“Listen, he was a big disappointment. Never met anyone so bossy in my life. Do this! and don’t do that!—that’s all I ever heard.”

“Well, he is the Boss.”

“Don’t make excuses! He’s your boss, not mine. I wouldn’t work for a control freak who can’t control himself! He wanted to control my lips, my hips, and my everything. He’d forget my name and call me Harlot. Worst date I ever had. On our first night he took me to an awful hotel room in … Charlotte. I gave him a condom and he blew it up and started insulting my I.Q., and my D.N.A., and my … No wonders I lost all my self-esteem and married your father!”

Chuck got pretty down listening to that.

“Son,” said his old pop, “pay no attention to your mother! You’re gonna be a hit! We’re going to Charlotte right away!”

“He doesn’t live there,” Penny informed. “He never took me to his place, but he said it was in Boston.”

“Of course! Where else would the Boss live!” cried Chuck, my greatest genius ever.

“Well, you just remember how he treated me,” his mother warned.

Chuck remembered and hesitated.

“Son, don’t judge your potential by your mother. You got ten times her talent and you’ve been taking that I.Q. boosting drug forever! Besides, we’ve been rehearsing for this. Show her your stuff! Go ahead! Let’s hear your latest economic love song.”

Chuck felt his confidence rising. He strutted to the window and sang the following:

 

Economical Love Song

 

Oh Boss Above, you are so lonely

Among the stars above,

You are so cold and lonely

’cause everyone avoids you!

You’ve been too good to them

You gave them life and limb,

Potatoes and shrimp,

Oh how will they ever repay you?

Don’t you fret!

I’ll pay America’s gigantastic debts!

Then it’ll be happy days again!

You’ll warm the climate of your soul

As I reignite your inner coal

And breathe luv’s winds

Upon your peaks,

And put a glow

Upon your cheeks!

The glaciers in your heart

Will melt for me, flowing with

Liquidity, we shall be a fa-a-a-ami-ily-y-y-y

Full of blahblahblah

And in the desert of your loneliness,

I will seed rows of lettuce,

The lettuce of luv,

The lettuce of blahblahblah…11

 

“Holy crap! That song’s so awful,” his sister cruelly protested, “you could drive a girl to sleep!”

Damn told her to show some respect. She laughed. Oh, she was a nasty pothead. All teeny-boppers are. Don’t respect anyone. She should have been more careful. You know, sometimes terrible things happen in America. It’s true. It’s not a perfect country. No, really. Anyway, the police did their best to keep everything quiet and secret, but Chuck couldn’t resist. Before I could stop him everyone on that social media site, Hatebook, had seen the pictures of his whole family sleeping all naked in one filthy bed!

 

You’re Fired!

 

If rumors of incest and rape were good for business, I mean if the market approved and all, well, then everything’d be different, but outside of Hollywood such rumors are plain bad for business, and that’s why when Chuck showed up for work he was promptly greeted by armed guards who stripped searched him, had a laugh, then tortured him, jailed him, tortured him again and threw him into solitary confinement. It’s the American way.

Kidding! America doesn’t behave that badly. America gave Chuck a generous, multi-million dollar severance package I hoped he would share with his family. But then I wondered if maybe I don’t know anything about generosity. Perhaps I had underestimated what it takes. In short, the severance money didn’t win Me any “Thank yous”. Instead, Chuck vowed revenge.

I laughed. You know, that Chuck Bollocks, he’s quite a character. What a joker! Imagine, threatening Me! Of course I wasn’t concerned. I really wasn’t. I was too busy lying back on my favorite yacht, the International Tax Haven, cruising the seven seas. The ship carried 3,000 fighter jets, a space station and heavy haul helicopters. When we’re not on business we smash icebergs for revenge.

But seriously, in theory I was supposed to be on vacation, but I couldn’t just disconnect myself from the world. That’s the trouble with being God, you have to hear and see every bloody thing! And when you miss something, some righteous bastard always informs on his evil family or neighbors. Well, they mean well, and you know what they say? You can’t have too much intelligence.

 

God’s Intelligence Revealed

 

Surprisingly, even without the “help” of Chuck Bollocks, the U.S. economy continued to sink until just the upper decks were above water. The praying continued, but some wondered if they were praying to the wrong God or being punished for electing the wrong president. These developments distressed Me so much I spoke to the President and told him to put Chuck back on the job. President Angel personally called his father to see if he was home.

“Chuck? Him? I haven’t seen him since he dishonored the family! I thought the scoundrel had moved in with you!”

“Move in with me? I wouldn’t share my shack with him.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly Damn had an idea. He dropped his iGod, dropped his pants and appealed to his wife’s generosity, “Honey, let’s do the rub-a-dub-dub!”

She looked aghast. “Are you nuts?! Put that thing away! It’s too risky!”

“Whadya mean?”

“We could have another Chuck and he was a disaster!”

“That’s the whole point! But I swear, we’ll make a better boy this time!”

“GET OFF!”

“You said I was your designated hitter! You used to say so!”

“Maybe. But you never hit a homer. It was always foul balls with you! Now get off! I’m watching the World Series!”

He was on his knees, “Penny, you have the power to create life! You can’t waste that gift!”

He could have seduced Romeo, but Penny wasn’t buying his hotdog. She was busy playing with her Wiwi, if you know what I mean. But he was a real man. He didn’t take no for an answer. He wouldn’t shut up about woman’s responsibility to be creative.

She laughed at him. “I’m done being creative! Creating Chuck was a mortal sin! Nurturing that child ranks with donating blood to leeches! He made the milk in my breasts curdle!”

“That’s not fair! He’s full of love!”

“Yeah, love for blond rabbits!”

Still unwilling to admit defeat, Damn tried bribing her by promising to patch the holes in the roof, get rid of the stained glass windows and even remove the altar from the living room. When this made no impression on his wife, he got on his knees and offered to wash dishes and flush toilets, but she was already on the phone with the police officer she knew intimately.

 

The End

 

And so I have my revenge against Damn Bollocks and now you know what justice looks like and how foolish it is to defy Me. Who am I? I am your boss, and I am the Most Merciful and the Most Wise Author and Editor of Humanity.

 

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