“You’re going to burn in Hell for this…”
“Where’s your heart at? You a real Christian?” The guy is standing directly in front of me. I can’t smell his breath–we’re not that close–but I can get a real good look at his teeth, which are pretty ragged.
“What did Jesus do when he was here? Huh? You tell me that?” He snatches the flyers advertising the upcoming Zombie Apocalypse from my hand. “You think he stood out on the corner and handed out FLYERS!? WHAT DID JESUS DO?”
At this point, I’m uncertain whether it’s a good idea for me to tell the guy that I’m just pretending to be a Christian. I was hoping the fact that we had Robert made up like zombie and lassoed with a piece of twine would convey the idea, but apparently not.
The guy continues, completely unfazed.
“When Jesus was here, he didn’t hand out flyers. He fed the poor. He gave them homes, and he washed their feet, and he took care of people. You know who Jesus came here for? He came here for the SINNERS! The righteous have their place in heaven. It was the sinners that Jesus came for, you know that?”
He turns to Harrison. “And you, where’s your heart at? You guys are just a bunch of fakers, you know that?”
At this point, we started to try to let him know that we were, in fact, fakers. “We really are fakers,” Letti said, “we’re just pretending.” Harrison said something along those lines.
“You guys are fake Christians, you know that? You’re not following the word of God, and you’re going to burn in Hell for this!”
At this point, I’m seized with an extremely elemental fear. Maybe he’s right, some part of my deeply concealed consciousness says. Am I going to burn in Hell for this? Oh, no! I began searching my memory for all the bad things I’d done in my life, like the time when I wouldn’t let my sister look at the lego house I’d built, or the time when I smacked my other sister in the face when she tried to wake me up in the morning…
…and then, the guy says: “Wait a minute, let me see those flyers.” I guess he must have finally noticed that Letti was holding a rope that was tied around Robert’s zombified middle. He read them for a minute, and said:
“Hold on. Are you guys for real?”
“No,” we said. “We’re just actors, trying to promote our zombie rock opera.”
“Oh. Well, shit, I’m sorry. I thought you were real Christians!”
“No, we’re not.”
“So tell me more about this opera.”
Last 5 posts by Marshall
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