So my friend Pete and I went to an ethereal costume party the other night down at Club Limbo. I was dressed as Batman of course, and Pete went as Leonidas. Anyway, I met this really crazy dude there, told me his name was Lucifer. He was dressed as a little red imp, complete with long wiry tail and pointy pitchfork. He had a lot of really cool magic tricks too, mostly involving fire and brimstone. So after a rather flaming opening, Lucifer and I shared a few drinks. Most of the conversation from that point on is a bit of a blur, but I do remember one important detail. Lucifer tortures people.
It turns out that Lucifer is closely related to that Hades fellow (you know, the Greek dude), and as such he’s gotten himself in charge of a little afterlife internment camp. It’s not much, and the air conditioners never seem to work, but Lucifer assured me it was the hottest joint that side of the abyss, if you know what I mean. But I digress. The point is that Lucifer’s torture camp just received a shipment of two thousand little kids (apparently someone idiot decided to answer “Hell” on question 12).
Now as an upstanding young chap, I let it be known to Lucifer that I really didn’t like the idea of torturing children. He laughed and told me I should take it up with the big guy upstairs, as it was Dio’s decision, after all. I was plastered enough that the stairs proved to be a rather serious obstacle, but I gritted my teeth and persevered. These were little kids after all, and I wasn’t about to sit idly by as they were tormented. So I made my way up to this Dio fellow, and let me tell you, this guy is insane. I mean, what kind of guy goes to a costume party dressed as a freaking cloud? Anyway, this is more or less how the conversation went (bear in mind I was quite drunk).
Zaq: Yo Dio, wtf you think you’re doing, torturing kids?
Dio: And you are?
Zaq: *Flips Dio off* I’m the Goddamn Batman.
Dio: I see. Well Mister Batman, please file all afterlife complaints with my secretary, Peter.
Zaq: Damn straight.
So I stumbled back downstairs and found Pete – he was making out with some chick named Aphrodite. Anyway, I pulled him out of his makeout session, which of course pissed him off:
Pete: Dude, what’s with the bat-cock-block? Not cool bro.
Zaq: Niños before ho’s, Pete.
Pete: True dat, brosef. What up?
Zaq: You’re Dio’s Secretary?
Pete: I am? Sweet.
Zaq: No dude, he tortures kids.
Pote: Not cool. We gotta stop that guy.
So we brofisted, pulled a little air guitar for good luck, and stumbled our way upstairs. Dio’s door was not only shut, but locked. So I pulled out my bat-lockpick and got to work. Soon, Pete and I were in Dio’s office:
Pete: Yo Dio, wtf you think you’re doing, torturing kids?
Dio: And you are?
Pete: *Flips Dio off* We’re the Super Rash Brothers!
Dio: (To Zaq) Weren’t you in here before?
Zaq: *Points to Pete* I filed a complaint with your secretary, and we both agree that you need to pull those kids out of Hell.
Dio: That is not my secretary
Peter: Damn, fired already!
Dio: *Sigh* Saint Peter, please show these guests the exit.
Peter: I ain’t no saint.
S.P: *Grabs Zaq and Pete by the shoulders* Gentlemen please, this is a private office.
Pete: No, THIS. IS. SPARTAAAAA *Kicks S.P. out the window*
This, of course, started one hell of a fight (pun intended). Before we knew it, Club Limbo’s security team was all over us. But Pete and I aren’t called the Super Rash Bros for nothing. This guy Mike (who was dressed as an angel) went and slugged Pete in the gut. So I smacked his face up with my baterrang. Then I got wacked in the head with a cross by some long-haired Spanish punk named Jesus. So I dropped one of them bat-smoke bombs and darted away.
Pete drew his sword and shield out of hammerspace and sliced the hair off some big muscular dude named Samsun. Guy looked intimidating, but it turns out he was a total pushover. Pete had him covered. So I went after a fellow named David, who kept trying to peg Pete in the head with stones from his sling. A swift kick to the sternum took him out, and I faded back into the cover of the smoke to pursue Jesus.
That’s when the old woman Teresa came in with a pair of nunchucks in her hands. Peter had to use both sword and shield just to defend. She was a real menace, that one. But my brawl with Jesus had taken us near the south wall, where Club Limbo was doing some renovations. I managed to grab a nailgun and hit Jesus right in the hand. He howled in pain and dropped his cross. I quickly grabbed it and smashed it over Teresa’s head. Pete returned the favor by driving his sword through some winged guy named Uriel, who was sneaking up behind me. We traded a brief brofist.
It was about this time that the cops showed up. I mean, they hadn’t actually gotten to the building, but we heard sirens. Everyone tried to make a break for it, but Pete and I knew who the head honcho was. Dio leapt out of a window, and the Super Rash Bros went right out after him. Pete dropped down to the street and chased him on foot, while I grappled up to the rooftops and went to head him off. But unfortunately Benedict showed up, grabbed Dio, and made off in his popemobil.
“To the Batmobile!” I cried, pushing a button on my keys. My sweet ride rolled up of its own accord, and Pete and I leaped in. I slammed my foot down on the gas and we were off, chasing Dio and Benedict down dark alleys and city streets. It’s a wonder we didn’t crash into anything. But in the end, I managed to pull one of those sweet maneuvers where you ram into the rear of their car and send them spinning. Pete leaped out and quickly slashed their tires, just in case.
The two bolted in opposite directions, but Pete and I know that true bros never split up. We chased Dio down, him being the more important of the two. After a bit of fancy footwork we managed to corner him in a dark alley, the police sirens nothing but a distant memory.
I think it’s safe to say that Dio got the beating of his afterlife that night. But by the time we were through, Pete and I had sobered up enough to realize that Dio’s son (that Spanish guy, Jesus) would just take over the shitty torture fest if we killed his old man. So instead, we cut Dio a deal. But it order to pull it off, we’re going to need your help.
The deal was that the Super Rash Brothers would back off. We let Dio live, and never crash one of his establishments again. In return, Dio promises to release some of the kids from Lucifer’s torture camp. He refused to release all of them, which was a point of contention. So in the end, we reached a middle-ground agreement.
Over the next month, from now until June 31st, Dio will release one tortured child for every person who links to this post with a proclaiment of their atheism. That’s right, just by converting to atheism and linking to this post, you can free an innocent little kid from the tortures of hell. And moreover, Dio has agreed to grant amnesty to all involved in this project. Not only can you save a child’s soul, you won’t even have to put your own at risk. It’s a win-win situation!
Now I know what you’re thinking, because this really does sound like a very tall tale. But come on, this is the eternal afterlife we’re talking about here. You may think the events recounted here are unlikely, but the probability is still nonzero. And the potential reward of saving a child’s soul while maintaining the safety of your own is absolutely priceless. It’s an infinite reward. So even if there’s just the slightest, tiniest little chance that you could be saving some poor kid from an eternity of torture, shouldn’t you do it? Shouldn’t you become an Atheist?
*Flips Pascal off*