“Shit’s pretty fucked up.”
“Could you elaborate, Mr. Baker? What do you mean by ‘fucked up?'”
Ten thousand microphones buzzed around him, fighting for space with the cameras. Buried in there, somewhere, were people shouting questions.
“The fuck do you think I mean? It was *fucked up* I’m telling you!”
“Could you give us an example?” Came a voice to his left.
“Well, for one thing, pretty much everyone there is being raped. Constantly.”
“Raped? You said raped?” the word passed like through the crowd like goosebumps across an arm.
“You heard me. Raped. By Demons.”
“Demons. Horrible ones, all sorts of shapes and colors, but generally what you’d expect. Horns. Lots of horns. Dicks, too. Dicks on horns, horns that look like dicks, dicks with horns on them.”
“Horns. And scales. Scaly, horny rape.”
“Mr. Baker, you don’t seem too shaken by the experience.”
“Oh, I’m shaken all right. That’s another thing they got down there. They call it ‘the shake and bake.'”
“Like the chicken!” Someone shouted triumphantly from within the crowd.
“Exactly. Except, ever imagine what it was like to be the chicken? That’s shake and bake. Reserved for the Gluttonous, if I remember correctly.”
“Did you see anybody famous?”
“I saw a lot of people! Hitler, Pol Pot, my old English teacher, man she was a bitch.”
“Anybody recently dead?” said someone looking for a celebrity scandal angle.
“Oh, well, I saw Robin Williams getting pegged by a pretty viciously horny demon.”
“Robin Williams? But he was a saint!” someone shouted.
“An angel!” said someone else.
“Oh did I forget to mention? Yea turns out there’s only *one* afterlife. Being good or evil doesn’t really matter. Nope, we’re all slated for an eternity of giant demon dick.”
“Is there no hope for humankind? Did you meet no prophet or savior who gave you a message to deliver us to our salvation?” Mr. Baker peered and saw the question came from a priest.
“Sorry pops, nothing like that.”
There was a collective moan from the crowd.
“Oh! Wait, I did meet Jesus.”
“Jesus!” The crowd shouted in unison.
“Yea, he was pretty alright. Only dude there not getting raped, well, other than Freddie Mercury of course. Man, you should have *seen* Freddie, he -”
“What did Jesus say!” someone shouted.
“Oh, that’s right, let me remember.” He paused and thought for a moment. The crowd leaned in. “That’s right! He said ‘fuck yall, this is for nailing me to a damned cross.'”