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Chapter 20 – Early Signs of the Apocalypse


“God denies match-fixing allegations, claims Tim Tebow set him up – NFL to investigate.”

The National Fabricator


As foretold by the Profiteers of Doom and Gloom in the Books of CRAP (Christian Relentless Antagonistic Propaganda), the early signs of the apocalypse took most of humankind by surprise.

hampsterfinalThose who had paid attention to CRAP – mostly religious scholars, nut jobs and serial killers, as well as poor children all around the world who have it forced down their throats against their will, thus irrevocably hypnotizing them and altering their brains and minds forever – marveled at the wonderful ramblings within its pages telling of triumphs and tragedies. And it served as a sort of program guide to the history of religion and ray-ligion, with notes and backgrounds on all the main characters, from the brave heroes to the devious pantomime villains.

It also served as a polarizing force between the religious zealots who preached of its virtues and the critics who claimed it was nothing more than fabricated nonsense, and about the only thing any of them could agree on was the undeniable influence it has had on the history of the universe.

No one seems to know for certain where the books came from. Some say aliens carried them out of the desert down near Roswell, New Mexico, on the first day of April one year and offered them as a gift to humankind, while others claim the head of the popes union paid an out-of-work Hollywood screenwriter to pen them in an attempt to provide some lasting career security for his clients. But perhaps the most widely believed story of how they came to be is they were written by none other than God himself through the twelve dwarfs – in a sort of aliens-taking-over-their-minds kind of way – although God emphatically denies this in his autobiography I Bet You Wish All The Girls Called Out Your Name During Sex Too!

Either way, the fourteen books of CRAP have served to influence billions of creatures throughout the universe and have had a profound effect on billions more, even if they had no choice in the matter.

The series of books is broken down into three testaments, The Old CRAP, The More CRAP, and The Same Old CRAP.

The books of Old CRAPTwaddle, Hogwash, False Advertising, Codswallop and Fiddlesticks – deal with God’s early life and how he met his wife Mary.

It was a dark time for mankind, and an era before shoes and toilets, where women had little choice when it came to footwear and had to find other things to simultaneously stress and delight about, and men were unable to leave a seat of any type up and were forced to utilize their imaginations in order to frustrate their better halves.

According to the Book of False Advertising, God and Mary met online on a website called A-Harmony, which is even more successful than E-Harmony because, well, as any savvy business mind will tell you, the letter A comes before E in the Yellow Pages.

According to the Profiteers of Doom and Gloom, or profits as they’re more commonly known, God was hanging out with his good pals the devil and Santa Claus and a couple of popes on the day he filled out his profile.

“I think it’s important to be completely honest,” said one of the popes, wearing a t-shirt with the words, “Corruption Rocks!”

“Oh yeah? And what exactly would you know about honesty?” God shot back. “You leave this to me. You may know corruption and greed and lying and murders better than me, but I know women better than you. I invented them.”

The devil then took the initiative and sat down in front of the computer. He was excited to see his good pal sign up with A-Harmony and he sincerely believed it would do him a world of good to settle down with a nice woman.

After all, the devil’s roommate in hell, Oliver Cromwell, the same man who once banned Christmas, met his fiancée Maggie Thatcher on A-Harmony, and that had been love at first sight and a match made in hell.

“Alroighty then, are you ready mate? Are you ready or whot?” The devil asked, and he spoke with an English accent. “First up, you need a good catchy profile name. Any ideas?”

“Yeah, how about SexyGOD? That’s catchy,” God replied, and he began to drool slightly. “Or maybe, Dr. Luv Muffin …





18 – The Ways of the World

“Humpty Dumpty was pushed.”

Space Cadet


Over the following few weeks, Harold and his new friends traveled about the universe in search of a leprechaun – even a small one – and they came across many different lands, each of them remarkably similar in their differing ways.

First up, they traveled to the Land of Greedy People, which was packed with creatures of all different colors and backgrounds and religions and sizes, and everyone there ran around looking for something called “more” – whatever “more” was. And they all seemed to get agitated when they couldn’t find “more.”

From there, they traveled to the Land of People Who Don’t Listen, which was full of self-absorbed people who knew little about the ways of the world and didn’t hear them when they asked if they knew where they could find a leprechaun.

And then they went to the Land of People Who Talk Too Much, which was full of people who don’t listen. And then on to the Land of the Rat Race, where everyone seemed to need glasses because they couldn’t see important and beautiful things right in front of them, but nobody had time to buy glasses because they were all too busy planning for a life most of them would never actually get to enjoy.

From there, they visited the Land of Liars, the Land of Angry People, and the Land of Racists, all of them scary places, and then they traveled to the Land of Different Colors, where everyone hung out in their own neighborhood and all the different colors acted in exactly the same manner toward each other, all the time believing they were actually different.

After that, they traveled to the Land of Rap Music, which was full of something called bitches and hos and angry men and was a loud place, and then to the Land of People Who Shout, which was louder still, and then to the Land of Reality Television Stars, which was the loudest of all.

“Och, it’s a loud universe,” Stuart suggested.

“It can be indeed,” Harold concurred.

And everywhere they went they heard the same thing from everyone they met.

“You guys all look the same to me,” the people would say. “You’re all different.”

And still there was no sign of a leprechaun.




Next up, they traveled to the Land of Conspiracy Theorists, where they met someone called Space Cadet at the gate.

“Shh, be careful,” Space Cadet told them when he saw them approach. And then he glanced suspiciously all around him before continuing. “Big brother is watching you.”

“Ah janey mack, I don’t think so,” Seamus replied. “I don’t have a big brother, just a little brother. His name is Ciaran, but I don’t think he’s watching. He only watches Spongebob Squarepants and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That’s his favorite.”

And like any self-respecting conspiracy theorist, Space Cadet, who was dressed in a white t-shirt with the words, “the conspiracy theorists are watching us,” paid no attention to what anyone else was saying.

“Be careful what you eat here. The food is drugged to make you believe. They don’t want you to know that the world is flat.”

“Och, who doesn’t want me to know?” Stuart asked, and he sounded a little irritated.

“The government.”

“And why does the government not want us to know the world is flat?” Harold asked, genuinely curious why Space Cadet believed this.

“Because they want adventurous people to fall off the side of the world, because adventurous people are dangerous … dangerous like a fox.”

And then Space Cadet glanced around him again before continuing.

“And don’t trust the media. The people in the media work for the government, a.k.a. the wasteful machine. They’re paid to spread lies.”

“Och, what sort of lies?” Stuart asked.

“Lies like when they told us man walked on the moon. Man never walked on the moon, because there is no moon.”

“Och, then what’s that thing up in the sky?” Stuart asked, with Harold laughing slightly, although Seamus had long since lost interest and was by now far away saving the beautiful Eileen Clancy from a gang of angry Hell’s Angels led by the devil and his roommate in hell Oliver Cromwell, who was wearing a t-shirt with the words, “Christmas Sucks!”

“That’s not a moon. That’s a really, really huge planet far away and not a moon close by.”

“That sounds a little murdiculous,” Harold responded, feeling the need as an intellectual to sound a voice of reason.

“Oh yeah? And I suppose you think it’s a little farfetched to suggest 9-11 was a hoax?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I do think that sounds a little murdiculous.”

“Good God, I can’t believe how naïve you all are. How can you not see it? It’s as clear as that really, really huge planet far away in the sky above us. The Muslim terrorists weren’t responsible for 9-11. It was the vampire rabbits the CIA bred in the New York Subway as a secret weapon to use against Al Qaeda. They turned on us, man. It’s all a conspiracy.”

This time Harold couldn’t help himself from laughing out loud.

“Vampire rabbits?” He asked.

“Yes! The government lied to us. I read it on the Internet. It must be true.”

“Och, what else are they lying about?” Stuart asked, and it was refreshing to get their minds off the lack of success at finding a leprechaun, at least momentarily.

“They lied about who killed Kennedy.”

“Och, who killed Kennedy?”

“Mr. fucking Rogers, that’s who. They didn’t tell you that in the government-approved history books they make you read in school, did they?”

“Och, sure why would Mr. Rogers kill Kennedy?”

“Because he’s a fucking commy, that’s why. Think about it, man, wearing all those red cardigans and singing about his beautiful neighborhood where everyone’s equal and a little too happy for that hour of the morning, and always trying to recruit ‘new neighbors,’ and if that’s not more than a little suspicious, I’d like to know what is.

Harold laughed louder still when he heard this, and that in turn made the others laugh, although Seamus wasn’t exactly sure what they were all laughing at, although he did have fun laughing along.

“And did you know that New Zealand is a great place to visit?” Space Cadet continued. “As long as you never ask them what they did with Old Zealand. Oh no, that’s not a subject you want to bring up.

“… And did you know HUMPTY DUMPTY WAS PUSHED! … And Alf never made it back to the planet Melmac, and instead he’s being probed and prodded by the U.S. government as we speak, and used as a guinea pig for erectile dysfunction pill testing? … And did you know that Dr. Pepper never once set foot in medical school, and don’t get me started on what army Colonel Sanders was a member of … OR GENERAL ELECTRIC! … And did you know that the Titanic never sank? It’s merely a falsehood propagated by the ice berg haters of the world, and that as we speak the Titanic is not lying at the bottom of the ocean but is instead living a quiet life in Paris with Jim Morrison, Elvis, Kurt Cobain, the Crocodile Hunter, Merle Skywalker and Snuffleupagus …”

And with that, Harold motioned to the others to go and they began to wander away. But that didn’t stop Space Cadet. Like any proud, self-respecting conspiracy theorist, he was not easily dissuaded from his way of thinking.

“… And did you know that the Muppets are made from real children imported from a third world country? REAL CHILDREN! … And that there were actually eight dwarfs hanging out with Snow White and not seven … no, they never mentioned ‘Curious’ the dwarf,’ did they? No, because Curious is dangerous to the government … dangerous like an angry drunk rhinoceros who has just been told he has herpes … AND DID YOU KNOW THAT THE VILLAGE PEOPLE ARE NOT ACTUALLY FROM A VILLAGE, BUT A BIG CITY … AND THAT JACK AND DIANE ARE NOT REALLY TWO AMERICAN KIDS GROWING UP IN THE HEARTLAND, BUT ACTORS FLOWN IN FROM HOLLYWOOD …”

Without warning Space Cadet’s head then exploded. And if he had been able to tell you, he would have said that was all because of Big Brother.

But there was no sign of any leprechaun in the Land of Conspiracy Theorists.



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You can purchase Free the Leprechauns by Ray Hamill at



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