All Hail the New God

By Randle Cocksmith-Jones

I was covering a protest in D.C., agreeing with those who voiced their rightful opinions on the many wrongdoings this nation had inflicted upon its people, when the sky grew dark and yellow-orange clouds rolled through. I was in the middle of interviewing seventeen-year-old professional social media canceler Gertrude Horowitz, and just about to wrap up for the night—as well as obtain her cell number and address—when a face appeared in those clouds. My photographer, Tom-Le-Roy Humbug, and I were frightened, paralyzed, and other clichéd terms often used by those who haven’t trekked the highly sophisticated terrains of Ivy League turf.

I gasped. Gertrude grasped my arm, clinging tightly to me. Tom-Le-Roy, well… he soiled his pants.

The face became clearer as the dark skies lightened, the yellow-orange clouds dispersing. Blue sky appeared behind the Capitol Building.

Just as Tom-Le-Roy was about to complain about his soiled cargo shorts, and Gertrude seemed to psychically urge me to squeeze her left breast, a loud thunderous voice cried out:
“Wha’choo talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?!”

Then he declared he was the NEW GOD and demanded we all bow to him.
“All hail the new God!” the face bellowed.

Well, I can tell you, dear reader, I was the only one brave enough to speak up. I resisted for a whole two minutes! The nerve of this celestial being!

“What makes you think we should bow down to you?” I said. “Of all the celestial beings that exist, why should we worship you? Why would any human being, regardless of sex, race, or creed, follow you?”

“Because I could kill you, motherfucker!”

Well, that was good enough for me. So I did just as everyone else did. Tom-Le-Roy snapped the photo below and bowed as well.

So, all four hundred of us at that rally in D.C. that day have banded together to worship this “new God.” We call ourselves Arnoldites, and we’d appreciate it very much if you’d respect our right to our kind of faith. By the way, please accept a pamphlet. Have mercy on your soul, and may you be Willis-ized.