This world, this vile, despicable, sinful, love-lacking world that you hold so dear to yer’ heart, all it’s trappins’, all its wealth, all its false majesty; this world the good Lord granted you to protect with the sword of morality is gunna’ be stripped away from you, and yer’ ilk, Chris.

You can sit around, babblin’ and ah boo-hooin’ bout how Jesus never loved ya’ very much, bout how hard yer’ life has been, but Chris this is America, yer’ an American, so that makes you one lucky SOB.

Half way around the world we see godless men, such as yer’self, slaughterin’ the innocent, bombin’ homes and raping women. Children packed six or seven deep in a one room house, havin’ to share molded bread while eatin’ it off of a feces covered floor. Yet God did you so wrong? I’ll save my pity, and I’ll save my prayers for those who need em’.

The good Lord protected you, he blessed you, so that maybe one day you could be a grace granting word-fearin’ warrior of his, and you dare turn yer’ back on him?
You dare turn yer’ back on the mighty? You dare turn your back on the way? You turned it on the truth? You turned it on the light?

This is exactly why the Lord sent Reverend Waters back to this filthy institution, the X-dubya-F, to purge from its confounds ye’ ungrateful, falsely entitled, sorry sacks of slimy scumbag sinners, once and fer’ all.

All too often, when we’re hurt, we find every reason and every excuse we can to pin our faults on others, too unfairly, and too often that blame gets dumped off on God, as if he aint got enough to worry about.

You wanna’ blame God because of your prideful, foolish ways, forcin’ yer’ friend to leave work and getting’ him killed?Which was more important, Chris? Yer’ lustful intentions or yer’ best friend’s life?

You made that decision, not God. You aint got no one to blame but yer’self, and you know it’s true.

RAGE CHRIS! RAGE!

Like it does a darn bit of good, you burnt down a Church! That’s an abomination of the grandest nature…

In the Good Book, James warned against such acts, fer’ anger is a natural feeling, but it's the human reaction that is left solely for the human to decide upon. “For Human anger,” he said, “Does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” James 1:20.

Anger resides in the lap of fools, Chris! That being said, yer’ likely the most foolish person around these parts.

Yer’ like a child. A self-centered, ignorant, little spoiled child who didn’t get what he wanted fer’ Christmas so now he wants to take everything from everyone else, and project, and blame his weaknesses on God.

Yer’ pathetic.

God no longer desires yer’ mercy, Chris. Yer’ too far gone. You’ve spent yer’ life being a little rear-end grabbin’ emo boy who cuts himself while prayin’ to the devil to fix yer’ small penis, and you want pity because you had a “hard life”?

How about you give the good Reverend Waters a break you little crybaby.

There be folks all over this country and all over this world who have had it, or have it way worse than you can ever imagine. Yet they get up every day, not blaming God, but finding the next best way to serve God, and to help make this world a better place. You twisted little self-loathing pansy.

You may be accomplished in this new era X-dubya-F realm, where the locker room is half empty, the shows are half-assed booked by a half sized, half-witted rapist, and the superstars are half as talented as their predecessors; but in the eyes of the Lord Almighty, you aint accomplished a quail’s turd of worthiness to enter the Eternal Kingdom of Righteousness.

In my former life, I was a man of great sin, a man of great selfishness and self-loathing. I, just like you, cared only for the workings of the world, so long as it worked for me and me alone. But see, I woke up; I was willing to wake up…

You?

You will never wake up, you’ll never pass-go, yer’ never, EVER gunna’ win, you will spend the rest of yer’ sad, sorry little days living with the filthy and the adulterers.

Ain’t you thankful fer’ The Reverend being sent to cleanse you of yer’ despicableness?

Because when you and me step in that there ring, it aint an ounce of yer’ rage gunna’ hurt ol’ Reverend Waters. Fer’ the Lord’s holy shield of righteousness will upheave you and yer’ devilish ways, and yer’ gunna’ reap every tid-bit of sinful malevolence you done sewn on this world.

How fitting it’ll be, that there ring surrounded with fire, where yer’ pathetic attempts to commit blasphemy against the Holy Trinity will cease. Fer’ God told Peter: “The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.”

Oh so fitting.

You’ll be laying there, neck half broken, floppin’ around the mat something similar to yer’ puny, wasteful little life, and yer’ eyes taking in the truth for the first time will wale up as you look to me, knowin’ good and well that you’ve made a mistake; you’ll ask fer’, no, you’ll beg fer’ the Lord’s mercy.

And the same ever-loving, ever-mighty, ever-knowing Lord of all Lords who you turned yer’ back on will come down unto thee, and he’ll whisper ever carefully with his cadence into your blood filled ears: “It’s too late.”

From that moment, just before I immerse yer’ rotting carcass into the flames of judgment, you’ll realize just what a pathetic piece of crap you’ve been, and you’ll have accepted that there is only one true God, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

See there’s a difference between myself and Luna because Luna will one day be spending an eternity chained to a cum-stained sex bed in the deepest bowls of hell, fer’ Luna is a believer of a false God, and Luna blasphemes the name of Jesus.

Luna is weak, and very pathetically, even weaker than you.

As fer’ that there Bible quote you stupidly spat, yeah, I know it, it’s plastered on my X-dubya-F roster page.

Not really sure what draws you to the book Gospel of Luke, fer’ I am the one Jesus has sent to drag you unto him. And it is yer’ blood that will be spilled in the name of our Lord. It is you who will beg, and plead, and cry, like a heroin addict crying out for mercy from their self-destruction…

Only you won’t be heard.

Fer’ the prayers of the wicked will fall upon deaf ears.

Its sewing season now Chris, and Reverend Waters is here to deliver every single thing that’s been waiting fer’ you yer’ entire miserable life.

Let us pray…

Almighty Lord we come to you today and ask that yer’ ever wise, ever righteous will be done.

We ask that Chris Chaos be cleansed of his sins, cleansed of his homo-erotic temptations, cleansed from and forever more from this entire world of which he has been corrupted with.

And if it be yer’ will o’ Lord, we ask that you show mercy, and spare Chris of his dark fate.

Lord it is to you we owe all thanks, for all of yer’ miraculous works.

Please find with within yer’ never failing wisdom and strength that the flames Chris will encounter shall burn away all of the hate from his soul, and burn away all of the warts from his crotch and anus.

It’s in your name, Lord Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.