The Son of God

Well.... You know what kids are like. All that idealistic nonsense he used to come out with; 'the meek will inherit the earth' and all that idealistic bollocks. I didn't work my arse off for six days separating the sodding firmaments just so that he could give the whole place away to some sandal-wearing pinko time-wasters without the gumption to get themselves a decent standard of living. I bet they are all vegetarians too.

I had high hopes for that boy too. When he did the thing with the loaves and the fishes, I thought - that's my boy! Imagine the mark-up on something like that? But the dozy sod just gave them all away. Did the idea of a fast food franchise even enter that hippy head of his? Did it buggery.

I thought - y'know, get the lad in there early, start him at the bottom, get him to know the business. Then an aeon or two down the line the missus and I can bugger off to Bournemouth, nice little bungalow on the coast while we are still young enough to enjoy our immortality.

But I was buggered if I was going to leave the place in his hands - 'love your neighbour' - bloody unnatural I call it. Smite the bastards mightily - that's what I say. I mean what is the point of having an almighty wrath if you are just going to pat the miserable sinners on the head and let them go?

So, I fetched him back. Sent him around to visit the wife's relatives in Valhalla - that put the cat amongst the pigeons. I'd like to see the soft sod try to forgive a thunder god for a malleting around the earhole.

Do him good. I think.

[Taken from here – because… well, I can]