Sometimes I think to myself, can you imagine if St. Peter is sitting up there in heaven waiting for me to come and meet the maker I don’t believe in….just ITCHING to let me have it…
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(Silly harp music)
St. Peter: “Hey Michelle. Why its lovely to meet you finally!”
Chelly: (Inspecting her surroundings) “Oh WOW! Hey, how’s it going…old..dude!? Yeah!
(skeptical of her host in this new and very BRIGHT environment)I’m sorry, so who are you? And where the hell am I?”
St. Peter: (chuckling haughtily) “Ahhhh yess…..Hell. We’ll get back to that in just a minute. So! Who am I, you ask? Well, I’m the “old dude” you know best as St. Peter.”
Chelly: “St. Peter? Oh word? WOW. Thats… exciting. Truly. Well, Pete, no offense but I just thought all …this was a christian thing.
St. Peter:: “Yes, well in a way.”
Chelly: I’m not christian. And I don’t get that anyway. Those people showed up way late in the game. Humanity was around longer than that. Plenty of other religions and gods prior to your holy crew so what gives?
St. Peter: (muttering to himself) “I know she’s not trying to give ME an anthropology lesson!”
Chelly: (still talking)”So if your really St. Pete, then this must be the “pearly gates?”
St. Peter: Uh-huh.
Chelly: That would then mean that your supposed to read my life out of some book and tell me whether or not I get a golden ticket to The Notorious G-O-D (feat. JC) concert. Right?
St. Peter: Yep.
Chelly: Aaannnd if I DON’T get in, then its a one-way ticket straight to the basement with John Milton?
St. Peter: (thoroughly annoyed) Look kid, I know you get it, alright? Heaven, hell, me, JC, the Notorious G-O-D and all that other good stuff is manifesting itself in a way so that you may understand whats happening to you. On a side note, if you think homeskillet by the ninth gate is going to look like Al Pacino, I’m telling you now, you can forget it.
The truth is you can’t grasp everything there is to actually know because your not a scientist or a philosopher or even a nun for that matter. And even they don’t get the whole story ANYWAY. Consciousness, quantum mechanics, angels and demons blah-bl-blah blah, ok? It all means jack now. And do you know why?
Chelly: (monentarily pensive) No, Pete. Why?
(Harp music record scratches to a halt. The scene begins to rattle intensely like an earthquake. The hinges on the golden gates begin bending and coming apart. Disasterous organs and booming horns EXPLODE thunderous music signaling the apocalypse rendering FORTH! Chelly grabs onto St. Peter’s white robes shriveled in fear.)
Chelly: Holy shiit Pete! What the-w-what the fuck!? What have I done wrong?! Why is this happening?! WHY!?
St. Peter: (Now surrounded by reddish light, taking on demonic form, voice is maniacal, pure rage echoing) Bitch you owe the NYC public library!! YOU DARE to have overdue books?! Now you will BURRRRN!!!
Chelly: WHAAAAAAT!!?
St. Peter: It will be fiery pits of GUILT and despair for you for the AUDACITY of your EVIIIILLLLLL!!!
(Red lights disappear. Loud music stops. Harps begin again. All abruptly rewinds back to “normal”)
Chelly: Jesus Christ, what just happened?
St. Peter: “THATS RIGHT! Honestly, girl. What idiot would risk going to hell for all eternity just because she’s too lazy to take back a couple of fuckin’ books? Oh and by the way, please don’t take the lord’s name in vain, ok? NOW WAKE UP!”
(Chelly snaps back into the waking world and off the couch she slumbered on for the past hour. To the ground drops all the mail she had managed to leave on her lap. The overdue notice from the library laying atop the pile.)
Chelly: Hell is a collection agency….figures.
END SCENE
