It had been an everyday Saturday night. Pop was reading the Yankee scores in the daily newsrag. Mom was finishing up the final touches of the aspic ring to serve with the turkey elegante. Sandi was tuning the TV to a rerun of "Ironside."
Then the doorbell rang.
"Could you get that please?" asked Pop, still engrossed in the baseball scores.
Rusty got the door. It was Him, and He was hungry for turkey. The lock on the door couldn't keep him out.
The family stared in terror at Him.
"Give me some damn turkey elegante. And aspic," He said, putting a firm hand on Rusty's shoulder.
"Whatever You say," stammered Rusty.
Pop tore off his glasses in surprise. Even little Tina felt the icy chill of obedience. He would have aspic. He would have turkey elegante. Because He WANTED it.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Knock Knock Knockin' On Heaven's Daw-ho-Hoorrr...
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1 comment:
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock," is being taken just a tad too literally here. And would it kill Jesus to blend in with his surroundings a little better? You know, by wearing polyester pants like everyone else?
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