Joy’s Rant List Volume 43: The Revelation of Joy: The Final Chapter

Chapter 3 – Hell is Waiting in Line

So, if you have been with me throughout this cliffhanger of a story, you know that I’m now in Purgatory and have been kicked out of VIP by Michael the Archangel (who, I swear, kicked some dirt on me before he closed the door.  Michael is kind of a jerk.)  So I am back in line to get into the club.  A little disheveled, but still cute.  The next time I make it to the front, I see Gabriel again. I haven’t forgotten how me mushed me in the face, and from the smirk he gives me, he hasn’t either.  He looks at me for what seems like forever, and then he says “Truth.”

“What?” I say to him, utterly confused.

“Truth.  That is the cost of entry.  You’ve been here before.  Jesus has asked you to account for your actions.  What is your truth?”  Gabriel looks at me like he knows I’m going to get it wrong.  I start trying to formulate a response in my mind –

I suddenly hear Jesus in my head again: “See, and that’s your problem.  You keep trying to ‘formulate an answer’.  Just tell the truth!” And I am immediately thrust into the back of the line.  With the garbage.  Again.  GOT-…to be more careful.  (wink)

I get up, and go through the motions again.  I am starting to recognize some of the faces in the line.  All of us are starting to look a little stale.  Folks are hungry.  It is hot as hell out here and there is no water (duh!) and we’ve been in line so long, that we have lost track of time completely.  You wait, you get to the front, you fail, and you start over.  Apparently, Hell is waiting in line for eternity We see Satan from time to time.  He comes rolling through in an air-conditioned black Escalade, picking up folks who are tired of waiting, or tired of trying.  They always ride off bumping bass music.  Yeah, I ain’t falling for that.  Ride out, Satan.

Do you wanna ride... in the backseat of a Caddy...

Do you wanna ride… in the backseat of a Caddy…

After 7 times 7 tries of getting back into the club, my clothes are starting to show wear and tear.  I’ve lost one of my heels.  Might as well go barefoot.  My jeans are no longer fitting right.  My hair and makeup is a mess.  Some people in line still try to put on a good face.  But I’ve lost all sense of pride in my appearance.  I only have one thought in my mind: I need to be inside.  I’ll give anything to be back in front of Jesus.  I’ve wasted so many chances, trying to be cute, trying to be funny, trying to be charming, trying any way I can think of to get back in.  Now, I’m just back at the front of the line.  Waiting my turn.  I know what I am going to say to Jesus, if I can just get the chance to see him again.

Real demons wear pink.

Real demons wear pink.

At this point, Satan rolls up again, in a stretch hummer, bumping 2Chainz.  And who is that with him?  Is that Kanye?  Why am I not surprised?  Apparently, Kanye has graduated from the Illuminati and is now an arch demon for Satan.  (Duh)

And you know what’s funny?  My first thought is that Jay-Z must have made it in to heaven.  Because if he was down here, I’m sure Satan would not be wasting time with Kanye.  Jay-Z would clearly be a bigger pull.  But now I am pissed.  How did J-Hova make it into heaven and not me?!?!  WTF?  I don’t know, maybe God granted Beyonce a favor…

Satan is still trolling the line, looking for suckers to trick into going with him.  Kanye calls out the passenger-side window, like Satan’s scrub-ass homie: “Hey girl, you look tired.  Come have a glass of Nuvo with me…”  He wiggles the bottle out of the window.

I turn to face Kanye:  “Oh please!  I never liked you in real life, so I damn sure ain’t going riding with you and Satan!  Are you crazy?  Get thee behind me, Kanye!”

Kanye is on fire!...Forever...

Kanye is on fire!…Forever…

I mean really, as many times as I have tried to get back into the club, why in the hell would I leave now?!?

It’s finally my turn back up front.  I’ve had I-don’t-know-how-long to think about my actions.  About what Jesus is really asking me to say.  The truth about that first lie…  What is truth?  That I was just a little kid and didn’t know better?  Yes I did.  That I shouldn’t be held accountable?  Wrong.  That I already got spanked for that so it should be in the past?  Wrong again.  As I walk up to Gabriel, Raphael stage whispers to him “$50 bucks says she makes it this time.” Gabriel sneers and says, “You’re on.”  Hmm, so archangels can make bets?  Whatever.  That doesn’t concern me.  I’m not one of them.  I can only be concerned about me and my truth.

Gabriel looks at me.  “Truth.”  He then folds his massive steroid arms across his chest and waits.  I take a deep breath:

“When I was two years old, I told my first lie.  My dad had put a vase back together with super glue and told me not to touch it.  As soon as he left the room, I pressed it and it all fell apart.  When he came back, he asked me if I touched it and I said ‘No’.  I knew it was wrong to tell a lie. I felt it in my soul when I did it.  I said it to avoid getting in trouble, and I thought to myself that my father was not smart enough to know that what I was saying was a lie.  I assumed I could get away with it.  I was wrong.  And I dishonored my father by my actions and my attitude.”

The entire time I am speaking, I am looking down at my bare feet.  That’s all I have to say.  There is nothing more that I can think of but the brutal honest truth.

“Just let me in, man.  That’s all I need.”  I keep my eyes on my dusty toes.  I am feeling the crushing weight of knowing that if I do get back in front of Jesus, I will have to give this kind of truth about every single lie, every uncharitable feeling, every hateful thought, every feeling of selfishness, lust, greed. Damn, but that book was thick.  But whatever!  I am going to put my big-girl panties on and woman up to this challenge.  (Actually, I already had my big girl panties on because I hadn’t expected to be showing them to anyone, you know how it is.)  But now I realize – this is the way.  This is the key.  To gain true forgiveness, I have to own up to the fact that I need to be forgiven.  No excuses!

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and realize that the air is cooler.  I open my eyes and I am back in the VIP.  I am still looking ratchet, but that doesn’t matter.  Jesus is here!!!  And he is smiling at me.  “Took you long enough.”  He winks at me and hugs me.  He then is standing behind the same podium from before.  “Shall we begin anew?”

And we do.

Volume 42 done, and I’m out.  Seeing as I’m all cool with heaven and everything, I figure the best thing I can tell you is… “Now go forth and sin no more.”

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Joy’s Rant List Volume 42: The Revelation of Joy (Chapter 2)

CHAPTER 2 – Getting Kicked Outta VIP

Okay, so if you all remember from last week, I am stuck on Earth after the end of the world, we are all bored, and I’m trying to get into this new club Purgatory.  (Go read last week’s entry!)

Purgatory - The new hotness

Purgatory – The new hotness

Now: “Fake Angel Michael the Bouncer” brings me to the back of the club, straight to the VIP section.  I step through the drapes and come face to face with – you guessed it – Jesus.  He is sitting back on the leather couch, dressed in a tailored black suit with a blood-red tie.  He still has the long hair, though, so it’s throwing me off.  What are the odds that they would find a Jesus look-alike to run the VIP?

“It’s me.  Or at least, what you all think I look like, so I just went with it.”  Jesus speaks and his voice is like a warm hug…

Wait – I didn’t speak out loud.  How did he know what I was thinking?

“I read your mind.  And before you ask, I’m not wearing a robe because this is 2012 and that was 30 BC.  Times change.  And I am not going to sit in this VIP area in a toga and a pair of Birkenstocks.”  Jesus considers me for a moment.  He eyes my outfit disparagingly.  I’m dressed in tight jeans, low-cut blouse, spike heels.  Regular club gear.  I mean – I look fly!  And it’s a club!  What’s with the stank-eye?

He then comes to me and kisses me on the forehead.  Instantly, I feel something akin to an electric current run through me.  Thousands of bits of information begin to swirl in my brain.  It’s like a whole new reality has been downloaded into my mind.  And then it hits me.  This is real.  Purgatory is real.  And I’m in it.

I’m in Purgatory.  I’m dead.  Everybody here is dead.  And I’m not in Heaven.  I’m stuck here.  I guess I should have listened when all my friends told me “Joy, you need Jesus!”  Because – shocker – none of them are here.  That is some SHULLBIT!!!

No wonder I saw pity on everyone’s faces out there.  No wonder nobody is dancing. They are all just waiting.  Uh oh – wait, so the fake bouncer angels…?

“Are real angels.  And Michael especially doesn’t like you now.  He says you tried to seduce him with a hug?”  Jesus looks at me with one eyebrow raised.

Okay, see, when I did that, I thought this was just a regular club, with a nice gimmick!  How was I supposed to know that this was really Heaven’s waiting room?  I mean it was just a hug!  How can I stand here and lie to Jesus and say –

“How ‘bout you don’t lie to me.  And just apologize.”  Jesus crosses his arms over his chest and waits.

“I am SO sorry!  I didn’t know!”  I try to look contrite, but I’m really not because I mean, I DID actually get into the club so –

“Okay, first of all, I can hear your thoughts.  And second, I just told you not to lie to me.  And finally – did you really think you got in here because of something YOU did?  Seriously?”  Now Jesus is looking at me like I’m a spoiled child.  And, I suppose, I am.

I start to sweat.  I try to organize all of this new information about the hereafter that is overloading my brain.  Apparently, I reached Purgatory because Jesus felt that there was something worth saving within me.  This VIP area was for passing final judgment.  Moreover, I couldn’t go any further unless I could face my sins and gain full absolution.  I begin to sweat even more.  Because my list of sins is long.  Majorly long.  I start to realize that my mom was right:  What’s done in the dark will come to light.  And God don’t like ugly.  I close my eyes and try to figure out how I am going to get through this.  What can I say?  How can I convince JESUS to let me into Heaven?  What is it going to take?

Jesus grabs my chin and compels me to look into his eyes.  “One thing.  The truth.  Face the truth.”  I feel like he is seeing my soul.  He is.  He is seeing into my soul.  And he looks disappointed.  He takes two steps back from me, and a podium with a huge book has appeared.  It looks like one of those old grandmama bibles.  He flips it open to the first page.

“Let’s start with your first sin.  Two years old.  You told your father a lie.  Go.”  He stands behind the podium looking at me expectantly.

I gulp and begin rapidly looking for the right answer in my mind.  I’ve always jokingly told my friends that God only kept me alive because he thought I was funny.  So I try for a little deflection.  “Wow, that’s a thick book!  How many folks are in there? He he…”

“Oh, sweetheart, this is just YOUR book.  And half of it is filled with the same lie of how you will ‘never do something again’.”  (Did Jesus just “finger quote” me?!)  He smiles at me like the woman at the DMV.  Everything in his demeanor says ‘I want to help you, but I really ain’t pressed’.

I start to tremble.  I’m sure I’ve got pit stains by now.  Great.  I can only imagine what is in that book.  Is masturbation in there?!  That has always been a gray area to me.  I mean, all those thoughts about Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson…  My mind drifts again.  Mmmm.  The Rock…

“Girl, FOCUS!”  Michael slaps me in the back of the head.  Wait a minute; Michael can hear my thoughts too?  Goddammit!

(cue record scratch)

Gasp! No she didn't!!!

Gasp! No she didn’t!!!

A collective gasp goes through the club.  Apparently, everyone working in the club is an angel of some sort, and they can all hear my thoughts.  Ooooh…so… kinda sorry for calling the waitresses ‘tricks with tig-o-bitties’ earlier.  That explains the side eye I got.  My. Bad.

Jesus snaps his fingers to get my attention again.  He is starting to look annoyed.  “Joy.  Come on.  We’ve got a lot to get through.  All you have to do is tell me the truth now.”  He frowns at me and waits for me to come clean. I try to be cute with it.  ‘Cuz that might work, right?

“Aw, Jesus, why you gotta be bringing up old stuff?! Ha ha ha… ha…”

Crickets.

“Well, Jesus, I was just a little kid, you know, and what had happened was —”

“Wrong answer.”  Jesus sighs loudly.  “Michael…?”

Michael just appears out of nowhere again and grabs me by the scruff of my neck.  “Come on, ‘kid’.”  He hustles me to the back door despite my protests of “No! Wait! Just give me one more chance!  I LOVE YOU JEESUUUUUSSSS!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot…”  I can hear his voice is in my head at this time.  “Back to the end of the line for you.”

Michael throws me out on my ass into the back alley of the club.  It went a lot like this…

http://youtu.be/zui3vJc5_D0?t=28s

And there I sat, on the filthy alley floor, with others in line smirking at me, a few looking on in confusion.  I dust myself off, fix my hair, adjust the twins, and get back in line.  Oh, it is ON, now.  I gotta get back in!!!

Volume 41 done, and I’m out – Since Jesus has put me on time out, it’s gonna take another 7 days to wrap this up…  In other words – look for Chapter 3 next Friday.