Author’s Note: Please see Part One here for the beginning to this completely true story about how the world will end. Granted, I made up parts like the beginning, middle, and end, but otherwise it’s all true. Save your soul before it’s too late y’all.
Dushe Ironguy woke up in his family’s home just outside D.C. Located in a pious suburb in rural Virginia, Dushe figured he could go there to clear his Atheist head and try to understand what the hell was going on. For a week he and H.C. used the home as a base of operations, ordering pizza from Lu Cifer’s Pizza Place and making calls to important government people. Dushe tried watching the news, but he couldn’t get Fox or MSNBC anymore. CNN was clueless, making up a new theory every few hours. Nobody knew what was going on.
About forty percent of the world’s population up and disappeared, leaving only the contents of their bowels behind. A neighbor checked on the Westboro Baptist Church and told a local paper reporter; the headline read: “P.U. in the P-ews.” Those ISIS folks in the Middle East? All gone except for the people they forcibly converted. The only thing remaining of the Islamic State was a giant pile of turds centered around a T.V. tuned to a “Golden Girls” marathon. Everywhere else outspoken people with opinions louder than their sense had vanished.
Janitors and other cleaning personnel worked overtime to clean up the mess, reminding everyone else that they didn’t get paid enough for this shit. Admittedly it was a big job cleaning up for almost three billion people, so they got a raise. Amazingly people who keep civilization running without so much as a thank you get the recognition and support they deserve. Oh, how the world was going to end soon.
Dushe didn’t care. He was moping about his room. His wife left him without a note, but she left a big pile of dung on the bed. Obviously she wasn’t taking fiber like her doctor told her to take. “He’s just got a medical degree, training, and fancy science words,” she’d say. “I’ve got God’s Word to keep me regular.”
Just then, Dushe looked over to the bookshelf, the one his wife kept stocked with Bibles. It was like an unheard voice was calling to him, “Dushe, don’t be a jerkface Atheist. Read this book and it’ll tell you what’s really going on.” Slowly he got up, went over, and opened up one of the good books to the back. He might have done this because all the good stuff is at the back of the book, or maybe he wanted to know what was going on, but I’m going to just attribute it to God making him do it.
Dushe Ironguy read the book of Revelation and thought to himself, “Self, I don’t see anything in here about people disappearing. I don’t even see stuff in here about crap being left behind. There’s so much ambiguous prophecy anything could really make it true. But you know what? I’m going to assume it’s God telling me it’s GO TIME.” For the first time in his life, Dushe felt like he had a purpose: to save the world from its coming doom.
Running downstairs, Dushe slammed his Bible in front of H.C. and said, “I just figured out what happened. It’s God doing it. He’s called all His people home. There are no impurities in Heaven, so that’s why the crap gets left here for us to deal with.”
“Interesting hypothesis,” said H.C., his stupid Atheist thinking wanting objective evidence and rejecting God’s Word. “How do you know it’s God, and not some sort of evil death ray?”
Dushe flipped a few pages and pointed at a verse on the page. “Man’s number is 666,” said the pilot.
“I don’t get it,” said H.C., “But I think you’re on the level. Please forgive me for sinning, God.” Score another soul for Christ.
Their new lot in life thus made clear, the pair of them set out on the road to somewhere hoping God would tell them what to do. They passed other houses, bus stops, malls, and a few gas stations. H.C. was about to give up and go back when they came across a billboard for the local mega-church which had the slogan, “Christ’s Love All Over Your Face.” It was just up the street; clearly the billboard was put there by God. A few minutes later, they found the large stadium structure with a flashing electric sign that read, “We fucking told you this would happen.”
It had to be the place.
Inside there was only one person, the pastor, sitting in front of the altar and weeping. “What’s wrong?” asked Dushe.
“Everyone else got rapture’d, but I’m still here,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I was kind to everyone I met. I kept the commandments. I gave people support and created a mission to help clothe and shelter the homeless. We even found time to fund several cures for cancer and attributed it all to God’s Will. Vandals changed the sign outside and I can’t even find my secretary. Why am I here? Does God not love me anymore?”
Dushe felt his skin electrify. He knew why God led him to that place. Opening up his handy-dandy Bible, Dushawn pointed to a verse that read, “He wept.” The pastor read it and started bawling.
Dushe said, “Jesus cried too. We’re living in the end times. Obviously it’s a sign to mean that you’re here to help round up the last souls before God comes and hits the reset button on people.”
The pastor stopped crying, looking at Dushawn skeptically. But God’s love washed over him like warm buttermilk and he broke out in tears of joy. “Sure! Sounds great!” he yelled. “My name is Salazar Thomas Rawman; you can call me Sal!”
“Glad to have you with us,” said H.C. “Now that there’s three of us, wouldn’t we describe ourselves as an organization?”
“Sure,” said Sal.
“We should have a nifty name,” said Dushe. “How about the Tribulation Gang?” The other two agreed, and the Tribulation Gang was formed. Their only goals in life were to get people to convert, make unjustified conclusions based on random readings of Scripture, and occasionally play Bingo on Thursdays.
Over the course of the next month, the Tribulation Gang worked hard to tell everyone about the Rapture. They got a Twitter feed, Facebook page, and a blog on WordPress. Sometimes Sal would post clever memes on Imgur. All in all, they were getting a lot of positive feedback on how to save souls. Each member realized what they’d done wrong to warrant punishment living on Earth while the non-believers around them would eventually show their immoral nature and start tearing civilization apart.
Dushe realized he was an adulterer. He saw Floozy’s ankle and thought some improper thoughts. It didn’t matter that he’s only human and stopped himself at fantasizing about dinner. What he did was wrong, a sin against God, and therefore he was a bad person. Oh yeah, he was also a soulless Atheist.
H.C.’s problem was that he didn’t report for Fox News. They were God’s Only News Source, and he should have known better than to actually get opposing viewpoints for news stories. Instead of verifying facts, he should have made shit up and buried the retractions by mumbling them weeks after demands for one died down. At least now he realizes that he should have been reporting THE TRUTH instead of the truth.
And Sal’s problem? He was too nice. If the Bible teaches anything, it’s that one has to be an asshole to non-believers. Sal didn’t try hard enough. He should have let homeless people stay and then said they could only get food if they converted. He should have used that money his congregation donated for orphans to buy prostitutes and booze. He should have had made unwanted sexual advances on members of his congregation and then blamed them for it when they reported it to the police.
Now, though, the Tribulation Gang is ready for the approaching storm. The other day some old lady fell down trying to cross the street and some apostate losers picked her up and took her to the emergency room. Then they had the gall to wait and help her get home, occasionally checking up on her to make sure she was okay. Some people might have fallen for that trick, but the Tribulation Gang knew it was only a matter of time before their lack of morals came out.
On the news, the trio of Godly Warriors saw the Ominous Projects Division of the U.N. lay out a plan to automate waste extraction and grow enough food to feed the four billion remaining people. All the non-believers thought this was a great idea. World peace would finally be achieved. So what if all the unruly human beings were taken off Earth? It was all a hoax; the Anti-Christ would soon show up and everyone would start sinning in the streets.
Until then, the Tribulation Gang would watch and wait. Atheists would slip up and abandon their secular reasoning and demands for evidence. They’d start raping, pillaging, and burning things. And when that happened, they’d be right there to wag their fingers and say, “We fucking told you this would happen.”
2 thoughts on “Sunday Fiction: The Crapture, Part Two”
Pingback: Behind the Crapture | Amusing Nonsense
Pingback: Sunday Fiction: The Crapture, Part Two | Christians Anonymous
Comments are closed.