See how good it is:
this is a story I wrote from the last time someone started it. I thik it was Judih or Alienamego or someone...
Why I Keep Making God Angry
Hello, my names Rudolfo Gigante but since I died 23 years ago I have taken the name of the English town I died in as my name, Ascot. When I died I was listening to Hendrix version of Hey Joe so I now call myself, Ascot Joe.
The story I want to tell you is of the day I was due to get my wings, it was a glorious day on Earth and everyone was in high spirits, the story up here though was much different;
Vice Deity Cliff - Uhh hey, man we totally need some cat to do this little job for us down on Earth. Who doesn't have his angel stripes yet?
Burt - Well, Cliff, Ascot Joe still ain't got his stripes.
Vice Deity Cliff - Ok. Send for him.
That was how I got the job that changed the way the holy hierarchy look at me.
The job was simple really; any fool could have done it. I was to go to Australia and meet another angel by the name of Carl Beduchi and we were to make our way from Australia to Mississippi to create the illusion of a ghost at Elvis' place of birth (the reason being that people were losing faith in 'the second coming').
I'm not aloud to tell you how angels get transported from heaven to their work places on Earth but I can say it's a little more hi-tech than wings (I hated Paul’s post Beatles stuff anyway).
I got to Australia on Tuesday 3 Sep. and proceeded to look for Carl. I was told he was a fat man in a pimp suit and a fez. I figured he would be easy to spot in the Australian outback. He was!
Me - Hey, man are you Carl Beduchi?
Carl Beduchi - Yeah, I'm Carl Beduchi! You must be Rudolfo? They sent me your papers.
Me - [under my breath] those sons of bitches ain't amended my angel papers, bastards! [To Carl] Yes but call me Ascot Joe!
Carl was a good guy! We talked about Music and books while we were waiting in the airport to board our flight to NY. He liked The Doors and Love, 'hippy hippy love love bands' as he called them.
On the plane he showed his true colours; he was a raving drunk and a homosexual to boot. He got drunk and started hitting on the flight attendant.
Carl - Hey come on, all you lot are fags anyway, what's the big deal?
Flight Attendant - Sir, take your hand off my ass and sit down on yours, please!
Carl sat down and fell asleep, occasionally yelling things like; 'dog food...cantaloupe...give me back my tree top...'
NYC was gloriously metropolitan, all people all colours. We tried straight away to get a flight to Mississippi but there were none. We could only accept the offered tickets for a one-way bus trip headed straight for Tupelo. Carl bought some whiskey and I bought a magazine and then we got on the bus. On the bus I realised the damn magazine was a women’s lifestyle mag full of tips on make-up and periods.
As we were crossing the great sunburnt expanses of the USA I got a phone call from god on my mobile phone.
God - Uhhh hello, is that you Ascot?
Me - Yes! Hello? Turn your music down!
I could hear 'my eye eye eye eye whoooah' he was listening to the damn knack again.
God - Why ain't you in Tupelo yet, god damn it...oh...Me damn it?
Me - We're almost there, we had to get the bus.
God - You know, no one ever manages to piss me off as much as you, Rudolfo!
He slammed down the phone and went back to listening to his fucking punk. (God is a huge anarchist and he loves the ramones)
He was right I always managed to make him angry; this was no different from every day.
We arrived at Tupelo a little later than planned, it was 4am and I went to the service station and bought some food. Carl was walking about in the Mississippi dawn with his fez down low on his head covering his eyes.
We waited till the first busload of tourists came to Elvis' area of the town. A busload of European tourists, all Elvis fans were the first ones there.
An old French woman gave me 10francs to take a picture of her standing next to the House Elvis was born in. I was making good money on this mission. I found ten cents in the service station and when Carl was asleep on the bus some Australian cents fell out of his pocket and I took 'em.
We made ourselves scarce and proceeded to call on our angel powers to make people feel, 'god's presence'
It wasn't long before all the crazy Euros were saying maybe Elvis really was the successor to Jesus. We had succeeded.
I thought; I'd have to get my stripes now.
I called god -
Me - Hello, God? Hi it's Ascot Joe, we managed to convince them, when do we get shipped back to Heaven?
God - Uhhh...before you left did you see my original 12 inch pressing of the NY Dolls debut album?
Me - Uhhh, no!
God - You fucking liar!!! You broke it before you left you clumsy piece of shit!
I always keep forgetting that he is an omnipotent son of a bitch and is full of fucking rhetoric.
Me - Oh yeah I forgot, look I'll replace it, ok?
God - Highly fucking doubtful. So you succeeded, good for you but if you think your getting your stripes after this you can fuck off.
Jesus, talk about abusing your power. I have a way of getting him really angry and pissy. He needs to chill out a bit, God...I wish I'd been a fucking Buddhist.