November 29, 2007

Ye Olde Scribe Presents: Part 1… Henry’s Hellish Game

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ye Olde Scribe @ 6:40 pm

This week a two part Scribe. Part 1 today, Part 2 tomorrow… hopefully…

Henry’s Hellish Game


…and again…


The sound of Henry Hyde plummeting into Hell.

Yes, the evil as^%$#@hole is dead.

The landing is hard. VERY hard. Henry stands up and faces the giant red one.

Why is Satan always red? Is it fire? Is it he has no taste? Does he taste like flamebroiled chicken?

For the first time in his miserable, wretched, self-serving, conniving, sin drenched life, Henry had nothing to say… wait, he’s dead… guess Scribe has NOTHING good to say here about him.

Satan roars.

“We’ve been waiting for you Henry! Your punishment for eternity stretches before you. You have two choices. One… since you and your evil cohorts thought amusing yourselves by having your own sexual affairs while impeaching a president would be fun… despite the fact that the president has bigger concerns like national security… we and my fellow demons decided you could face eternity being disemboweled and beheaded again and again by the same fanatics who flew into the towers.”

Henry gasped.

“We thought you’d like that one. Or how about spending an eternity playing a game, trying to find an exit that does not exist while wandering a maze, being lost in a spiritual wilderness while asking questions from followers of a rather esoteric faith called…”

Henry screamed, “No! No! Any thing but….”

And an Osama lookalike immediately cut his head off, which grew right back.

Satan chuckled as he walked off, muttering to himself, “Let no man say the devil doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

Why would he chose torture over playing a game populated by followers of an esoteric faith? Well, Henry has always feared playing…

Hyde and Sikh.

Stay “toon”ed for Part 2… The Power of the FARCE.

Brought to you by Neo Con Crispy Critters, soon to offer even extra crispier Iranian body parts. Yet another bad idea: far, far worse than it’s namesake: Post’s failed breafast cereal, from Junior and his, not “cereal,” but… (cough, wince, wink…) SERIAL killers

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