Yesterday afternoon was a relatively sunny one, with birds singing and children playing. I decided to go out for a walk, as the weather was so great and I didn’t want to waste it. However, as I went to go into my local newsagents, some God-botherer comes up to me and remarks rather loudly that I’m going to Hell for all my sins. So loud in fact, that the two of us were getting quite a few stares from passers-by.
“Listen, mate, I just want to get a Yorkie from the shop. Can I just go and get one while you leave me alone?” I asked as politely as I could, but the preacher could tell I was getting exceedingly pissed off.
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? With your money that you probably took from some old man while he was sleeping in the gutter,” he retorted with a real ugly sneer on his face.
“What? Just leave me the hell alone, all I want is some damn chocolate.”
“Two. TWO. Two curses were in those sentences. A sure sign that you couldn’t care less about the inevitable eternal damnation that lies ahead of you,” the Bible basher accused.
At this point I just didn’t care any more. I brushed him out of the way as I headed towards the shop. But the goon kept following me with cries of “Jesus can save you!”, and, “Your soul is tainted!” Even when I was at the counter paying for my Yorkie, he was reciting Bible verses at me. As I left the shop, I was blocked by him yet again.
“WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?” I yelled at him, uncaring for the glances and strange looks the two of us were receiving.
“I want for you to be saved. Just come with me!” he replied.
“No, just bugger off, will you?” I said desperately.
“Come with me,” he repeated sternly.
I’d had enough. I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but the freak was relentless in his pursuit of me. I ducked down a side street, and who should I meet, but Barry from Eastenders.
“Watch out!” Barry cried as I bumped into him.
“Sorry. Hey, you’re Barry from Eastenders!” I said.
“Yeah, I am. Now then, what’s the rush?”
“A crazy preacher won’t leave me alone.”
A gleam appeared in Barry’s wise eyes.
“Ah, I can help you there,” he said. “All you’ve got to do is rescue a dog from the RSPCA shelter and give it to him. He should leave you alone after receiving such a gift.”
I looked back at Barry with a dumbfounded look. “What? I haven’t got enough money for a dog! I can’t do that, it’s just-“
I was cut off at that moment by the preacher, who had spotted me down the alleyway.
“Sorry, Barry, no time,” I blurted out before quickly continuing my dash. Out of the corner of my eye as I turned, I swear I saw Barry shaking his head in disappointment.
At that moment, the preacher dived at me and grabbed my legs. I tripped over; I felt my nose crunch against the pavement. The preacher looked at me with a deranged look in his eyes as he pulled out a cloth from his pocket and smothered it over my face. I began to feel dizzy and my vision became hazy. Chloroform. As I drifted into unconsciousness, I heard the preacher whisper, “You must be saved…..”
I recently awoke to find myself in an odd prison-like cell, with several rabid looking weasels blocking my way out. If I even tried to escape, I’d be ripped to shreds. So now I’m stuck here, informing you all of my tale so that you never make the mistake I did.
Moral of the story: ALWAYS LISTEN TO BARRY FROM EASTENDERS, FOR HE KNOWS ALL.