IN THE LAIR OF HEAVEN: DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE HOLY TRINITY & ARCHANGEL LUCIFER

When the Godfather Speaks, Even The Son Shuts His Trap

(A long, long time ago, in the upper echelons of heaven, there were three feudal Lords of Creation: The chief honcho, a.k.a "The Father", was a cruel despot who had ruled over his earthly minions since time memorial, and along with his henchmen, "The Son", and the spooky "Holey Ghost", the three hucksters were the true Al-Capones of Mother Earth.

Contrary to popular folklore, the Lord Almighty was not prone to a single shred of kindness, as this scenario will prove.)

Scene: High in the lofty clouds of heaven, The Three Feudal Lords are having a special dinner in the Heavenly Realms: On this special occasion, they have invited their archrival, Lucie, for a reunion of sorts: Lucie was once part of the Father's mobster rule, a leading henchman of the Father's most sinister taskforce of dagger-wielding assassins, and assigned with dishing out every imagination plague and disaster upon the hapless masses.

Father (Approaches Lucie, big smile, Al-Capone style, shakes hand of Lucie): Jolly good fellow, Lucie! Haven't seen you for a long while! Look how handsome our prodigal son is, tall, dark, and handsome, and that spiked tale........oh yes, my dear Lucie, you are indeed in the pink of health!

Son (Mockingly): Yes, Father.........I guess he hasn't suffered too much.....You looked dark, Lucie. Damn that Sun.....Father, perhaps we should just turn the lights a little dimmer?

Lucie (Flaring horns, tails wagging like an agitated dog): Imbecilical Creatures. What do you want from me?

Father: Relax, Lucieboy! Come, join us for dinner (Turns to Son). For Jebus' sake where the fuck is the Holy Ghost???

Son (Face turning sheepish): Erm, Dad, right behind you...........

Father (Irritated, screams at Holy Ghost): For the umpteenth time, do not sneak up on me like a evil phantom behind my back!!!

Holy Ghost: But I am an apparition, Father.............

Father (interrupts): Shut up, you miserable bastard! I am the supreme Lord of Creation......I......

Lucie (Getting Impatient): Yo, yo, yo, cut down on your excessive family quarrels. I am in no mood for your endless heavenly bickering.

Father (fuming): I will deal with you later. Now, let us start our first discourse (Calls to St Michael) Yo Mikey, bring out the first course.

(St Mikey Comes In, with a host of rather disgruntled angels. Like modern day waiters, they are immaculately dressed in white, dishing in exquisitely-prepared cuisines for their holy hosts)

Father (Rubs hands, with gee): Ah, let's see........what are you serving today?

St Michael (Drones): Today's first course, courtesy of our pious worshipers: Human leg chops from the last human sacrifice, along with (points towards a crowd of ladies in front) 32 virgins, again courtesy of your delightfully faithful masses.

Father (Ogles at the virgins): Ah, pretty candy for the eyes.......save the virgins for the last segment of today's program. Come, let us feast!

(St Michael and his motley crew serves up the first macabre dishes: Jebus was insatiable, eating mouthful after mouthful of human flesh. The Holy Spirit, too feasted with gusto; while the Father was filling himself up with gallons of a newly-distilled brand of alcohol, The Bloody Mary.)

Father (puzzled): Lucie! Why aren't you tucking in?

Lucie (Disgusted): No thanks, Father Christmas, I am a vegetarian.... I do not find human leg chop appetizing (Turns to St Michael)....Hey Mikey, you have something more palatable to my tastes? Lettuce or broiled soup will do just fine.

Father (Shakes head): What's up with this pusillanimous attitude, Lucie? You, the Prince of Darkness, the Son of Dawn, my pride of joy, my.......

Lucie: Yes, Father, a damn jewel in your eye. This I never forget.

Father (Laughs heartily): Yes, indeed, the darling of my glorious Creation. But you, Lucie, my immaculate creation, chose to turn against my very will....

Lucie (interrupts): Your very barbaric, bloodthirsty will, hell-bent on deriving sadist pleasure from your pathetically feeble masses.

Son: (Slams table, hurls a thigh bone at Lucie, who dodges it with remarkable ease): How dare you hurl such blasphemous insults at our most Holy Father! You, our once-trusted minion, how dare you harbor such ill-sentiments towards your benefactor and Creator! Apologize, or I shall zap you with a thunderbolt!

Father (To Son): Hold your thunderbolts, for Jebus' sake! No one zaps anybody. Lucie, kindly enlighten me and my favorite henchmen here........what have I done to deserve your wrath?

Lucie (Raises Eyebrow): Playing coy with me, Father? Your outrageously indecent meal (Points to the half-finished plate of human flesh), the countless tragedies, tremors, plagues and all manner of disasters wrought forth by your wantonly thoughtless acts, your staunch refusal to grant Adam and Eve with even an ounce of intelligence up until I had willed and egged your rather dull-witted Creation to consume the fruits of that tree of knowledge......the sheer callousness and utterly deplorable deeds surpasses every tyranny and despotism that has been spawned by every vile creature ever since.

Father (laughs with delight): I am the Creator. What I do is none of your damn business. As a matter of fact, you are my Creation. I can wring and break your scrawny neck with nary a flicker of my fingers.

Lucie (Laughs Sardonically): The day I decided to take my cohort of angels in the last mutiny, I have thrown in my lot with insubordination. Your threats matter little to me. Neither does your very "intelligent" institution you call "Hell".

Father: Lucie......my dear Lucie. Still as beautiful and angelic........but not much of an EQ to start with. Can't you see the reasons behind my supposedly cruel deeds?

Lucie: I have no interest in listening to your silly diatribes. Say what you must, and let me return with the masses. The Lord Of Evil does not wish to waste his time in an eternal orgy of sex, debauchery and wanton abandonment.

Father (Sighs): In that case, I shall be blunt. I am sending my Son to Earth.

Son (Suddenly stops eating, jaws open): Father! No Bullshit! I ain't going to that hell hole.

Father (Shakes head): Oh yes, Son, you insolent Brat. An eternity in the heavenly realms has made you weak. I intend to toughen up your jelly-O soul and turn you into the True Lord Of the Cosmos.

Son (Cries): No fucking way! (Combs hair) How can my luxurious, delightfully brushed hair suffer through the rigors of a tough, mundane existence on that insane planet of yours?

Father (Smiles slyly): Well Son, you will not rule on Earth. In fact, it is my intention that you live 32 years of your life on that dank planet. You will be born in a fucking stinking manger to a Joseph, a good-for-nothing carpenter, and of course I get to impregnate your mum along the way (a lecherous look in eyes)....... Along the way, you will preach your undecipherable nonsense, parables and what-nots, beguile the uneducated masses with your 13 gay disciples, and basically spend your youth in a carpenter shop with your useless father. You will be embuggered by your disciples too, but no worries, because prostitutes will fight over the right to wash your feet with their hair, as compensation for your bleeding anus. At the end of your ignominious adventure, you will be crucified by the Romans, thanks to a groups of disgruntled Pharisees.

Son (Cries, kneels before Father): Father.........please.......how can you bear to send your lovely Son through such rigors, such tortures, such..........

Father (Deadpanned): No worries, Son. You won't die from the ardor........well, at least your soul will be intact after the ordeal is long over.

Lucie (Interrupts): Excuse me, but what is my role in all this?

Father: Well, I am always enamored and enthralled by a good script. You will tempt my son to turn against me. Is that a difficult task?

Lucie: Not at all. Now if you will excuse me, I will like to return to my lair and dine on my organic crops grown from the fertilized manures of humans.

Father (Nods his head): Be gone, my apostate. I shall hold you to your promise.

Lucie: Much as I hate you, I sure like the way you are going to torture your Son.

(Lucie leaves. The Son begs his Father to reconsider, citing an eternity spent in decadence, opulence and cruelty. Father doesn't budge.

As the New Testament goes, Jesus went through the mill, gets tempted by Satan, and makes the ultimate sacrifice. So much for the will of Gawd...........)

THE END