J.T. Hilltop

I was always the fucking last one picked. No one really wanted me on their team. Said I was uncoordinated, too slow, and good for nothing. But I showed them. I wrote a book for the Bible. The “Book of Revelations” which ironically was the last story chosen for the Bible. Coincidence? Are you fucking kidding me or what?? Maybe you think Revelations was too fat, too slow, and too uncoordinated to play in the Old Testament but Omega of the New? Get the Shepherds Flock outta here. Ya want the true story or the bullshit stories you’ve been taught by people you have been fooled into trusting.

Well my name is John. John of Pathos and I had the visions I am prepared to share with you while in jail. Yea that’s right, jail. What? You thought we only had torture chambers back then? Okay admittedly dudes and dudettes we had some killer Iron Maidens but we also used jails. And jail is where I was at when I received the Holy Fucking Revelations!

The book of revelations is somewhat difficult to tell because its told in some rather unusual circumstances. I had been a prolific Theological Blogger in my day who had already had a number of stories published in the New Testament under my chisel name, Pontius Pontificator. Not to brag or anything but it’s a play on my own name John the Fornicator. I used Pontius cuz I was a dream to the ladies if ya knows what I mean. Anyways, some of my books were under the epistle category, and a gospel song called Psalm 43 (The P has the right to remain silent). John the Fornicator from Pathos will now begin the story of Revelations as I saw in my visions from jail. It includes the four headless horsemen of Sleepy Hollow, the Liar of Judah, angels, seven trumpeters, the beast, a dragon, a false prophet, an arched angel, and of course no biblical tale would be complete without a whore, this one straight outta Babylon. So take out your cones guys and girls, here’s the real deal scoop appeal.

 

One evening while I was studying in the prison library the guard tells me I got this like visitor. Now not many of my friends come by and my family disowned me so my interest is how you say, peeked. A woman, not saying it was Jesus’ Mary cause I would never do nothing behind the J-mans back so lets just say she looked quite similar to Mary Magdalene. So Mary come in and lays a snog toggling tongue twirling kiss right on my mouth. I mean it was like a cheek wrestling, saliva swapping smacker of a French kiss right there in plain view of everyone in the visitors cave. While we was moanin and groanin I could feel two slimy tabs of something slip off Maggs tongue. She tells me to swallow, something you don’t normally wanna hear in prison, but I swallows the tabs. Then she tells me I just took two tabs of Cobalt Cheer acid. Man I was stoked, that’s some ass kicking cid right there my brothers, I knew I was gonna be tripping my nuts off. I smiled all the way back to my cell knowing what was coming. I got to my confinement cave and laid down on my stone cot while my bulge subsided. (Hey, when ya gets a kiss of that nature when incarcerated things pop up and stay popped up) After about a half hour or forty five minutes or so I hears this voice. Like I sit up right away and look around but there ain’t no one there. So I lays back down when the voice comes back, this time calling me by name. “Oh Jaa-ahn” So’s I shout who’s that, who’s there? And the voice says ‘Its me John, God.’ Now I’m thinking it must be the acid kickin’ in right? I mean the walls of the cave had been like breathing for a while and this voice was like soft and almost girly. Not the powerful deep voice you’d expect God would have but the chick-like voice insists. ‘Really John, its me God’ Then he steps out from the shadows and sure enough it is the almighty himself, God. Amazing how much Jesus looked like him, I mean like the spittin’ image except like a million years difference. What else could I do? I sez, “what’s happening God?”

Then he walks straight through the bars. Not around them, I mean like right through them, like they wasn’t even there. Then he sez, ‘John, I’m going to tell you a story. I want you to write this story down and make sure everyone reads it.’ I’m really feelin ripe about now so I sez to him, you mean like a bestseller or something? To which he replies, ‘Ah…yea, something like that. But first try and get the story into the bible, because the book needs a proper prophetic ending and this will be the story of the end and the new beginning.’ Now I’m really thinking the acid must be slamming the insides of my brain up against my skull or something but I figures maybe I should like play along and I sez to him, ‘Yea, yea sure Mr. Devine Being, whatever you sez. He goes on, “When I first created everything I had seven arch angels to watch over heaven and protect it. Six of these arch cherubs were cool, but one malignant rascal, Beelzebub, was just a real pain in the sacred cheeks. Had to do everything his own way and refused to follow my directions. Finally one day I caught him rolling in the hayclouds with Gabriel’s teenage daughter and that was the last straw. I tossed him and his baneful ways out of heaven straight down to earth along with one third of the questionable residents of heaven, like my own heavenly flotilla. He went down to earth with the low-lifes and they formed a gang of goblin thugs calling themselves the Crypts. Picked the name of a sacred burial undercroft just to spite me. After that he enters the Garden of Eden, whips out his penis angling it in front of Eve like some big snake. Well of course his phallus being thrice the size of Adams Eves eyes widened, began to water and left her mouth agape which he quickly filled with an apple. He then seduced Eve enticing her to make love, five times, and that’s when all the trouble began. That was the fall of man, when Adam, teeming with jealousy and divine penis envy begins recruiting humans for his own gang to exact revenge. So I had Gabriel, a very trusted angel form a gang up here first because I knew there would someday be a major showdown and the humans wouldn‘t stand a chance. He formed the Bloods of my blood, after my sons prophecy. We call them the Bloods for short, and it created a rivalry that would be the mother of all rivalries. Positive vs. Negative, Life vs. Death, Good vs. Evil, none of them have anything on the rivalry of the Bloods vs. Crypts. One day we would have our gang lords get together for an epic rumble. This showdown will be called The Rapture. Are you getting all this down John?”

Now I knows I’m still tripping and all but I’m starting to think maybe this shit really is on the up and up so’s I keep scraping away on my stones getting down his words so I could one day write the book for him.Being an ancient journalist of course I had questions, so I asks him to explain to me how this Rapture thing is gonna go down. Then something happens that may sound like a fairy tale or a hallucination. He floats up to the ceiling an sez come on up John it will be easier if I show you”

Now I’m flipping ya know? I’m like how the brimstone am I supposed to get up there, but before I even gets to thinking about a strategy I was lifted right off my feet and floated right next to him. Honest to god, from Gods mouth to my ear he whispers, ‘Watch this. These guys can really stir it up’ A light went on and I swear to you it looked like a giant flat screen TV in HD. The images seemed so real. There was a stage with seven musicians, each one a phenom trumpeter. Al Hirt,Loius Armstrong,Wynton Marsalas, Miles Davis,Chuck Mangione,Maynard Fererson, and Dizzy Gillespie. Not just ordinary musicians each stood with a golden trumpet in their hands. The seven Trumpeters. They jammed away in like improv style non stop for about an hour. Man my head was floating! And that’s when the real show started!

TBC