Chapter 11
Paved with Good Intentions
Five rather uneventful years passed before Piper experienced something that would forever change her. She sat in a theatre within a dungeon, which overlooked a large podium and stage. While she had a good view of the stage, she was seated between two oversized men who kept nudging her. The air was cold and bitter and annoying, worsened by the nudges of the men by her side. She told them to stop, but they didn’t. Instead, they nudged harder. In a huff, she got up and moved to a different seat, two rows back, yet the problem persisted with a different set of strangers.
Music blared through the speakers in the room, emitting a cacophony of irritating noises. Two songs, AC/DC’s “Hells Bells” and the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” were battling one another from two sides of the large room. Listening to the music while trying to reconcile the sounds was painful.
“Where in the world am I?”
It was very dark and dismal and the people surrounding her didn’t look like people at all. They looked like caricatures of people, just cold spirits and shadows. After changing seats a dozen times and finding that her situation was only getting worse, she gave up trying to find a good situation and returned to her original seat where she could at least see the stage.
The crowd around her kept growing. Dark spirits and shadows crept in from all corners of the room in a way similar to the way one would expect cockroaches and rats to enter an old abandoned house.
Soon the music stopped.
The announcer came to the podium to introduce the keynote speaker of the Demons’ Annual Recruitment Conference (aka, the DARC). “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “many of you have traveled long distances to attend the Conference. I can assure you that your time will be well spent. Our speaker tonight is Sir Oren, who stands among the first order of demons, overseeing the North American continent. Sir Oren has converted thousands to our cause, from kings and prime ministers to pastors and peasants, He has been the source of much hostility and wrath in the world. Let us listen to his words of wisdom.”
The crowd clapped and snorted, many taking the opportunity to choke and punch one another. One of Piper’s neighbors punched her in the nose and she felt the urge to punch him back, but resisted. That would only escalate the situation.
Sir Oren stood up from his chair and promenaded toward the podium. Tall and handsome with a slicked-back head of mahogany brown hair, he looked like a cross between two popular politicians she knew from Texas and Massachusetts. Dressed in a flowing purple robe, which was made of velvet and adorned with numerous gold and diamond medals, he exuded confidence.
From his high vantage point on the stage, he surveyed the crowd and cringed, slamming one hand on the podium while pointing high into the air with the other. “Silence!” He shouted. The microphone wasn’t working, so he ripped it from the podium and threw it into the crowd. “Damn it,” he screamed. “Whom shall I need to fire for this bloody mess?”
A squirrelly little caricature of a man rushed to the podium with a replacement microphone before fleeing back into the crowd. The crowd grew impatient and started yelling and cursing at one another.
“Silence, fools!” He proceeded in his upper class English accent, “Let me first say that the size of this audience hardly justifies my presence. Yet since I’m here and you’re here, I will do you the honor of sharing my thoughts and wisdom.”
He paused and scanned the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. “Snake, if you’re present, please stand. Snake currently oversees the United States as a second report to our master.” Everyone looked around, but no one stood up. Sir Oren continued, “Snake should be here today to honor me. Since he’s not, I can only assume he’s working on something of great consequence!”
“Am I in hell?” Piper asked. “What on earth did I do to deserve this?”
A woman in front of her turned around and said, “So, you couldn’t find the narrow gate either? I’ve been looking for it for years. Sucks. You’re not in hell, though. Yet. You’re in a dungeon along the road to hell. There is still a chance for you to find the narrow gate, but you have to first believe in Him.”
“Do you believe in Him?” Piper asked.
“Hell no!” She stammered.
“Why not? You just told me that all you need to do is to believe in Him to find the narrow gate.”
“Listen dear, I spent my life denying His existence. Wrote all sorts of books on the merits of philosophy and atheism. He’s not going to let me in now, knowing what I’ve done.”
“Why don’t you try? You know what they say about His forgiveness and the truth setting you free.”
“No. no way,” she said as she spun back around in her seat and faced Sir Oren.
Wonder how long she’s been dead. And how long I’ve been dead. Or if I’m dead. How did I get here?
The last thing she recalled was trying to fall asleep, so either she died in her sleep or she was dreaming. The latter would be much better. Just dreaming about this dungeon. She looked around to see if she recognized anyone, but didn’t.
Then Sir Oren said, “To be sure your dim-witted minds don’t forget my message, which will help you to advance in the ranks, I have arranged to have one of my many mistresses record and transcribe it for you. I will even autograph it for a small fee, so you can display it prominently in your homes. It will be provided to you before you leave tomorrow.”
Oh please.
With his chin held high, Sir Oren again looked over the boisterous crowd. “Silence,” he said as he slammed his hand on the podium. “Listen to me. I demand some respect! Shut up!”
Screaming voices and howling noises filled the room. Piper’s neighbor flung a burning bag of horse manure onto the stage, followed by much laughter and mocking.
Sir Oren roared, “You better not forget that I am in a very powerful position as a direct report to his highness, Satan, the great destroyer! Madalyn, work with my other mistresses to gather the names of any offenders and add it to this list…so he can torture and torment them and cast them into the chambers to be fired!” Sir Oren pulled a scroll from his pocket and waved it above his head, grabbing the attention of the crowd.
Piper watched Madalyn as she applied another coat of lipstick, rose up from her chair and strolled seductively to the pedestal to retrieve the scroll. When she arrived, she turned toward the crowd to proudly display her physical features. Piper surmised that she hadn’t seen a mirror in years, since she was acting as if she thought herself to be quite seductive, yet was anything but. She looked like a depraved apparition with lipstick. Madalyn smiled and winked at the crowd, but was abruptly interrupted by Sir Oren, who spanked her and pushed her away.
After a few more minutes, the crowd hushed, so Sir Oren launched into his oration. “To me, advancement is a simple affair, unworthy of being the focus of this key note. To some of you, though, advancement is a monumental task. Dullards. Fools. Dingleberries. Apparently, some of you lack the sophistication needed to convince your human assignments to change allegiances to our cause. The enemy and His army of angels keep outwitting you. Do not doubt we will hold you accountable for your failures! You will be fired! Newbies, when I say ‘fired,’ I mean it literally!” Sir Oren mumbled something under his breath and snickered.
“Leaders, target the celebrities, scientists and intellectuals so that they can do our work for us, reaping dividends for centuries to come! Think Nietzsche, Camus, Schopenhauer, Einstein, Shakespeare, Hawking, and Huxley. Good people. Influential people. Any boob on the planet knows he can hide his dimwitted brain by quoting Camus or Schopenhauer. What boneheaded barfly doesn’t want to impress his date with a few lines from Nietzsche? ‘Such an intellect,’ she’ll say. ‘He gets Nietzsche.’” Sir Oren roared with a hearty laugh. “Now we’ve got Nietzsche! At the awards ceremony later tonight, we’ll be giving special honors to our Hollywood overseers who have recently enlisted Brad. Our f
ather sends his approvals.”
The crowd cackled and clapped, as pictures of the self-proclaimed atheist celebrities were projected all about the room. Piper was surprised when she saw some of her favorite celebrities, particularly those who had taken up some worthy human rights causes.
How sad. They feel so self-sufficient that they don’t think they need God.
“Target the wealthy to be sure they spend their money lavishly on life’s finest pleasures. Target the nice people who are doing a good job serving the enemy.” Sir Oren’s eyes squinted and his face contorted as he said “nice” and “good” in his most scowling voice.
“Fortunately, we have more demons than we need to oversee the seven billion persons inhabiting the planet. In other words, you’re expendable. Look around. Your neighbor will likely be fired before next year’s meeting. Firing those who don’t meet expectations is no sweat!”
“One of my favorite stomping grounds is in the bloody schools. There we can convert young, malleable minds to our cause, ensuring they end up on the wide and well-traveled path to Hades! We can use our powers to encourage gambling, bullying, sex, guns, drugs, and alcohol, which are brilliant tools of destruction. It’s wonderful to witness kids when they come of age and realize their parents are imperfect liars and wretches. It’s delightful to watch them compare themselves with their neighbors, and become envious of those with more. They rebel by cracking a beer. Then it’s on to pot. Now we’ve enhanced the likelihood of teenage pregnancies, car wrecks, violence, school flunk-outs, and jail time. Wrapped up in their own bloody mess, they’re less likely to learn about and believe in Him!” Whenever Sir Oren mentioned Him, he grimaced, distorting the features of his face into a truly grotesque sight. With his mouth frothing and foaming and his eyes burning, he exuded rage and bitterness.
Speaking from the mouth of this newly deformed, hideous creature, he continued in a deeper and more menacing voice. “Some move on to acid, heroin, crystal meth, cocaine, ecstacy…. ecstacy indeed! Some become addicted and need money to fund their habits, so they begin stealing from their parents. Perhaps they get kicked out of the house. Now they’re on the streets, catching and spreading diseases, hurling vomit everywhere. That’s when the enemy and His angel army wage their fiercest wars to win back their souls, but we can prevail by cluttering their confused minds with all sorts of random, meaningless thoughts.” Sir Oren was now roaring, appearing as a bloody boar draped in a purple robe, “We can send in more troops and spur early deaths.” Sir Oren paused and then screamed, “Welcome to Hades. Meet your new neighbors!”
“Ladies and gentlemen: you have the power to ensure they go down the wide path and choose the open gate to Hades. You have the power to convince them to break each and every one of His commandments. Thou shall kill. Thou shall steal. Thou shall commit adultery! Ha! Thou shall not honor one’s parents. You have all heard the drill and are familiar with our constitution. You need to do everything in your power to prevent them from believing in Him!”
“Friends, let me encourage you now. We’re piloting a new strategy, which I’m here to share with you. It’s the strategy of complacency, apathy, and indifference. Our highness has noticed that tragedies often inspire humans to rise to the occasion to help their fellow humans. In fact, this goes all the way back to the first three hundred years of Christianity. When the early Christians were persecuted, stoned, and imprisoned, they became even stronger in their faith. They weren’t scared of death anymore and they bonded together in love and compassion for one another. Bloody disgusting! The enemy must have preconceived the way these persecutions would fuel His cause and change the world for the worse. Billions were inspired to follow Him. Let me tell you, fellow demons, what happened then infuriated our great leader, sending him into a rage unlike any you have ever seen before.” He paused and looked around the room, which was surprisingly silent.
“After many discussions, our top management team has contrived the perfect plan, which we call ‘Good Intentions.’ We are pilot testing it in one of the most successful and still Christian-dominated nations in the world, the United States. Over the past few years, his highness has prevented terrorists from spurring any massive tragedies within the borders of the States, so its citizens have grown increasingly apathetic towards one another and to those outside of their borders. Without a tragedy to unite them, they don’t feel driven to make a difference in their world. They are so pleased with their simple lives that they’ve turned their attention to material things, such as their money, their cars, and their homes. It’s been a bloody success! As you know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions! Ha ha ha!”
The crowd clapped in an uproar and a standing ovation followed. Dead rats, squirrels, and possums were hurled into the air in celebration of this new strategy. Piper looked at her neighbors, who were still choking one another. The woman in front of her turned around and said, “Finally, we have hope! We are going to win!”
The dungeon was damp and dismal, devoid of all love and light. Hatred, pure hatred. A chill seized her body, contaminating her soul. She wanted to leave, but she didn’t know how. Pinching herself in the hopes of waking up didn’t work, so she froze in her seat, hoping this was only a horrible nightmare.
Eyes on the Unseen Prize Page 27
