JC Delivers a Report on Trump to His Lordship

To Rapture, or not to Rapture? That is the question.

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Trigger warnings: A tad insulting to those Christians with no sense of humor. Inappropriate language from a sinless deity.

This is slowly becoming a bit of a series. It began here:

The Story Where His Lordship Drops a Jesus Bomb

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Note: Everyone in this story has a British accent, except JC, who has a slight Boston accent.

Gabriel: He’s arrived, your Lordship.

Lordship (rearranging a galactic cloud pattern): Who? I’m a little busy.

Gabriel: JC. He’s back from his visit to Earth.

Lordship: You mean that little place I wanted to smite the other day?

Gabriel: That’s the place, your Lordship.

Lordship: Fuck’s sake. Tell JC I’m outside watering the outer rim of that galaxy that has all those nasty fire planets. I’m not in a JC kind of mood today.

Gabriel: You never are, your Lordship. Shall I send him in?

Lordship (muttering): Of all the possible chemical combinations in the universe, my primary progeny turns into a goddamn Gandhi. (Outside voice): Yeah, yeah, send him in.

JC (entering): Hey, pops.

Lordship (launching a planet-eating supernova): Sup?

JC: Gabe said you wanted a report on my visit to Earth.

Lordship: Oh, he did, did he? Gabe! Get in here!

Gabriel (sauntering back in): Yes, your Lordship.

Lordship: Stick around. I’m gonna need some moral support. What have you, JC?

JC: Well, as you know, I visited upon the planet’s denizens, made a few friends, then promptly got hung on two sticks. It was very unpleasant.

Lordship: Yeah, I heard. What an awful place. You know we’ve got a nice, fat asteroid belt next door to that cesspool just waiting to get plucked, right? Why don’t I just take the biggest one? What do they call it, Gabe?

Photo of the dwarf planet Ceres by Justin Cowart, as photographed by the Dawn probe, Public domain

Gabriel: Ceres, your grace. Might be a bit of overkill, sir, as it is classified by the humans on Earth as a dwarf planet and would most likely break Earth apart if they were to collide.

Lordship: You and your science. (Looks at JC): Isn’t he funny, JC? He thinks I care about that shit.

JC: Really funny, Dad. Do you want to hear about this, or not?

Lordship: In all honesty, I’d rather be staring at the next abomination your crazy brother’s got going on in that disease lab he made next to that planet… Gabe, what’s that place called again?”

Gabriel: Uranus, your grace.

Lordship: Your anus. What a stupid name for a planet. That alone should end them. It’s one of the most beautiful planets I’ve made, too. Revolting little buggers, those earthlings are.

Gabriel: Yes, your grace. Their nomenclature patterns could use some work.

Lordship: I suppose you’re going to blame me for that, since I created the little heathens.

Gabriel: I wouldn’t think of it, sir.

Lordship: So, what else you got for me, JC? Today is Fry Day, you know. (launches another planet-eating super nova). Very busy here. Very busy. (Indistinguishable muttering)

JC: Well, I decided to check in on them in stealth mode.

Lordship: I thought I warned you about that. Rapture. It’s always gotta be about a rapture.

JC: No, no, dad. Stealth mode. Not, like, THE return. Just a stealthy look around to see what’s up.

Lordship: Hmm. Interesting. Didn’t the sentient beings you tried that with last time try to feed you to a meat-eating toadstool?

JC: Not their fault, Dad. They didn’t know who I was.

Lordship: Heh, good thing. It would have been worse.

JC (sighing): May I?

Lordship (gleefully clapping his hands after blowing up a ringed gas giant with a comet): Please do. You can start by telling me how you did this whole stealth thing. That must have been quite a trick.

JC: Oh, that was easy. I just occupied the body of a human who acted like me most of the time.

Lordship: How’d you find such a being on a foul little planet like that?

JC: Wasn’t easy.

Lordship: Did he suspect anything? Especially after you left?

JC: Nope. As far as his peeps knew, nothing changed.

Lordship: Remarkable. Who was this guy? We should invite him over for tea.

JC: His name was Tom Hanks.

Lordship: Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of him.

Gabriel: I’ll remind you, sir, that you hadn’t even heard of Earth before I told you about that Moses fellow.

Lordship: So I fibbed a little. Sue me. (winks at Gabriel) I bet you wonder what else I (makes quotes with fingers) don’t know.

JC (looking at Gabriel): See what I have to deal with every day?

Gabriel: His Lordship certainly keeps us all on our toes. Oh dear God, what is that foul stench?

Lordship: Oh, for fun, I made a planet called Uranus that I’m thinking of replacing the other one with, just to teach those idiots a lesson. Haven’t decided yet.

JC: Dad, remember that retirement community I told you about at the edge of the universe?

Lordship: Watch it, boy, or I’ll turn you into a screwworm. Now. Go on with your story. And, more importantly, how the hell’s Tom? I love that guy. Plays a mean piano. With his feet no less.

JC: Tom’s fine. It’s the rest of the place that is sort of, as you yourself would say, in the shitter.

Lordship: Well, you knew that going in, didn’t you? I gotta hand it to you, son, you’ve got the patience of a saint. If I had my way, I’d boil all their oceans.

JC: Yes, Dad, I know. Anyway, there’s this guy.

Lordship: Goddammit. The orange one?

JC: You’ve heard about him?

Lordship: Gabe filled me in. It’s enough to make me rethink this whole biology thing. There’s gotta be a better way to make a planet full of a billion little chatterboxes.

Gabriel: Indeed, sir, biology has been a topic of conversation lately.

Lordship: Oh, really. Among whooooooom?

Gabriel: Well, several of us higher angels, your Lordship.

Lordship: I’m listening.

Gabriel: Well, the conclusion so far is that the mathematical probability of this situation repeating itself is approximately zero. Point 00000000000000001 to be precise.

JC: Also? He thinks he’s God.

Lordship: On top of all the rest of it? You know I’m a jealous god (chuckles)

JC: Yeppers.

Lordship: Is he a threat to destroy the planet? Cuz that’s my job. If he is, he’s gone. Like, right now.

JC: No, pops, not unless there’s a way to profit from it.

Lordship: Oh. Alright, then. No Malthusian event. I guess I don’t see the problem.

JC: It’s just that he’s making everyone miserable, Dad.

Lordship: More than I did when I smote people for doing things like dropping a big gold chest on their foot?

JC: Oh, yeah. Wayyyy worse than that, Dad.

Lordship: Worse than locust plagues? Volcanoes and shit?

Gabriel: We ran some numbers, your Lordship. The cumulative toll of all the misery he’s placed upon the people of Earth is second only to their biggest war.

Lordship: Holy shit on a stick.

JC: He’s like my brother’s worst invention.

Lordship (his eyes wide): Cancer?

Gabriel: I’d argue that it’s worse, sir. He eats away at people’s souls. Slowly, but surely. Half the population is certifiable.

Lordship: As in insane?

Gabriel: I’m afraid so, your Lordship.

JC: And he’s been doing it for ten years. Which is a long time in Earth years.

Lordship: Oh, myyyyy. How’s Tom holding out during all this?

JC: Well, he’s Tom Hanks, Dad. So, you know, samesies.

Lordship: Of course, he is. Well, good on him. Do you two clowns have a course of action you might suggest?

Gabriel: Boils, sir. Cover the orange one in boils.

JC: Or bruises. Just, sort of, random bruises. It’s more modern.

Lordship: JC! That’s not like you. This beast must be absolutely wretched.

JC: I’ve never been tempted by violence before, Dad. I wanted to throttle his smelly ass.

Lordship: Bruises it is. Anything else?

Gabriel (giggling): Maybe swell up his ankles a bit. (puts one hand to mouth, giggles again)

JC: Have him fall asleep randomly during public events, just to see if it alarms his cult at all.

Lordship: From what Gabe has told me about his cult, it’s a wart on that planet that can’t be excised. And all of this leads to his demise, I assume?

JC: Precisely. When he perishes from natural causes, there will be street celebrations across the planet.

Lordship: This could be more fun than smashing planets. I love it. The planet will be that joyous?

JC: Without a doubt.

Lordship: What about the goofballs in his cult?

Gabriel: Secretly relieved, we believe, your Lordship.

Lordship: JC? Do you concur?

JC: They’ll be happy as hell at first, then find another target for their wrath.

Lordship: Oooh, and then maybe Rapture time?

JC: Maybe so, Dad. Maybe so.

Lordship: We’ll need to ramp up production on weird-looking Earth animals.

Gabriel: If I may, your Lordships (JC and Lordship both glance his way). I’m afraid that the Rapture will not be the best solution in this case, because many of them believe that the orange one’s presence is the first stage of the Rapture.

Lordship: Oh, come on.

Gabriel: I’m afraid so. It will all be seen as a fulfillment of prophecy.

JC: There’s an easy solution for this. We can just send his cult to live in my brother’s house for eternity.

Lordship: Eternal fire and brimstone! I love it! My lad, I am gaining newfound respect for you. I should send you to barbarian planets more often.

Gabriel: One small problem.

Lordship and JC: Oh, come on!

Gabriel: Traditionally, we let these things play out without such divine interventions.

Lordship: Not my best idea.

Gabriel: Quite. Still, we really do need the consistency.

Lordship: The boils and bruises could take years before the body expires to end the malignancy. And, what if, in the meantime, these morons don’t get rid of this clown on their own?

[Silence for a beat]

Lordship, Gabriel and JC: Ceres!

Thanks for reading!

Notes

Other stories in the “series:”

And, of course, the first one:

Thanks for reading!