The Next Coming of the Lord. Although Mahmoud warned them, few listened. (standard:Satire, 3484 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 19 2020	Views/Reads: 1239/810	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
WARNING: Not meant for the extremely religious, also not to make fun of religion, but it might make you think.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“Yes, let's do that.  Call the others inside and leave the stew outside.
I will prepare a meal.” 

Mahmoud currently counted six converts to his new religion, all living
in the small hut.  Some of them were poorly educated and others college 
graduates.  All were there to hear him teach religion in-between his 
work at the fast-food place.  They came into the hut and crouched 
against several walls. 

“Give everyone a cup of water, Abbas, and a stick off the woodpile in
the corner,”  Mahmoud instructed.  Abbas frowned at the insanity, but 
did so.  In a few minutes, the puzzled pupils found themselves with a 
plastic cup in one hand and a dirty stick in the other, not knowing  
what to think. 

Mahmoud raised his stick high in one hand and his own foam cup in the
other and instructed them to “Eat and drink a meal sent by your Lord.”  
He lowered a large deep-fried chicken leg to his mouth and took a bite, 
rinsing it down with a deep drought of fine wine.  The plastic cup was 
full to the brim with sweet wine and the stick had turned to chicken 
flesh. 

Raising his head, he saw all but one of his students eating delicious
hot chicken.  The last student found himself holding only a serpent in 
a bun and a cup of vinegar -- a secret non-believer. 

“Go, but go in peace, Job.  I know you were only pretending to believe.”


Job threw the serpent down and stumbled out of the hut.  The serpent
crawled over and wrapped itself around Mahmoud's left ankle, receiving 
a small piece of chicken for its troubles. 

The others ate their breakfast in silence.  After the meal, they sat
waiting until Abbas passed out pilfered napkins.  Finally, Abbas went 
over to Mahmoud and knelt at his feet.  The others followed and did the 
same.  That was how Mahmoud's mission began.  After a few minutes of 
thought, he gave his first instructions. 

“My Father told me to prepare the Earth for his return.  It will be on
December 21, 2023.” He looked around at the remaining five disciples.  
“That gives us only a short time to spread the message.  The Lord will 
be here in person, to take deserving people throughout all the ages 
back with him to a new home.  A new planet he has created.” 

Mahmoud explained the message in more depth, and finished with, “We will
spread the message over the entire planet.  To aid you, I will give you 
certain powers, such as invulnerability.  Many people will try to kill 
you.” 

“Say, what?  Can you go over that part again?” one of them blurted out. 

It took a little time to convince his crew but, since they were still
believers -- albeit frightened ones -- he managed to get his show on 
the road.  Mahmoud had to explain what invulnerability meant, for 
instance, and other nifty powers.  When they saw how those abilities 
could also be used to get girls, they all agreed to help. 

After a long lecture on methods, he hugged each one individually and
wished them luck.  They left on their new mission.  Abbas was to stay 
at the hut, as it was to remain Mahmoud's headquarters, as well as 
Abbas wanted to keep his day job -- just in case. 

Disdaining such niceties as passports and visas, the others and Mahmoud
journeyed across the continents, spreading the simple message of God's 
coming. 

At first, they were met with derision by individuals and governments. 
One of them, Akhtar, met with resistance right there in Israel.  His 
first stop was an Israeli television station. 

“May I help you, sir?”  the receptionist asked Akhtar. 

“Please. I would like to see the head of this place.” 

“May I ask about what, sir?” 

“An important message for the world.” 

He looked around at the splendor of that minor office. It was so much
different than the mud huts he was used to seeing.  The pretty 
receptionist looked like a veritable angel, needing only a golden 
nimbus to complete her ensemble of yellow see-through blouse and 
mini-skirt. 

She seemed a little perplexed by his answer, just a little, though. 
Keeping her professional cool, she told him. 

“Please have a seat, sir.  Someone will see you in a few moments.”  Her
orders were to pass on any strange requests.  It wasn't unknown for a 
bum to give them a front-page story. 

Akhtar sat down in a cushioned chair to wait. 

It was only a minute or so before three huge men came in.  They jerked
him out of his chair and roughly patted him down for weapons -- of 
course, finding none.  One of them went into a room behind the 
receptionist.  A couple of minutes later, a man in an expensive suit 
came out with him. 

“Sorry sir.  Terrorism, you know?  We had to check.  Now what is this
important message you have for me?” 

“I have been instructed to tell you that the Lord is coming to take the
faithful.” 

“Oh, you do say?  I suppose he told you where and when?”  the man asked
in a joking manner. 

“Yes, sir.  It will be on December 21, 2023.  You must help spread the
word, sir.  It is important that people be ready and say goodbye to 
their loved ones, the unbelievers who can't leave with Him.” 

“And what crackpot group do you represent?  By the way, are you
Palestinian?  You look it.” 

“Yes, I'm Palestinian, sir.  What does that have to do with anything? 
And I don't represent any group.  Only my friend Mahmoud Zayyad, who is 
the Son of God.” 

“Yes? Is that right?”  He smiled.  “Zelda, give this man form 1376E.  We
just might pass the message.  Thank you, sir.  Please fill out the 
form.  We appreciate you telling us.” 

The man went back into his office and the other men disappeared. 
Although Akhtar was too busy to notice, the message did get onto the 
Evening News show, although as a joke item. 

The other television stations simply ignored him and his warning.  His
attempt to notify politicians met with the same result.  He found he 
could talk only to low-level assistants.  Not in the least deterred, 
since he HAD given the message, Akhtar shrugged then set out to inform 
more Middle Eastern countries. 

*** 

Yassar had a different reaction when he attempted booking a flight to
Europe.  No airlines would accept him without a passport.  Being of a 
different style than Akhtar, a much more direct disciple, Yassar became 
angry.  He said, “The hell with it,” and flew off on his own.  The last 
Israel saw of him was a blip on their radar screens that almost caused 
a war with Libya.  Searching jets saw a man flying by himself, robes 
and hair flowing in the wind and showing them his middle finger before 
kicking both legs and speeding toward the morning sun. 

*** 

Thakur did the same to get to China.  Nawal was energetic and walked to
the African continent, taking his time and spreading the message as he 
trotted across various rivers and seas. 

With only limited initial success, though gaining plenty of free
publicity, the messengers took to more active methods.  Some used what 
seemed like parlor tricks to force attention.  Lightning from 
fingertips, levitation, even ripping doors off were all used.  It not 
only garnered attention, but also landed some of them in jail. 

Since there was little time, only a couple of years to inform the world
-- that necessitated jail breaks.  Some of their methods were violent.  
 Although they weren't allowed to harm anyone, they could bruise and 
bang people up a little ... just a little.  Those antics attracted the 
attention of the News Media, and the word was spread through 
international news services -- although not everybody believed in it. 

*** 

Mahmoud himself, conjuring up a passport, flew to the United States. 
When he arrived, he was still dirty and disheveled.  Neither personal 
appearance -- nor odor -- had ever been his strong points.  He spoke 
only broken English.  His time was more constrained than the others, 
since he had to teleport to his headquarters at Ein al Helweh daily to 
check in with Abbas. 

After a few rejections, he willed himself to speak clearer and look
better, though still not fancy -- since it wasn't in his nature.  He 
found his efforts met with greater success.  He even received 
television interviews, such as the Terry Sprinker and Oprey shows. 

Although ridiculed, he did reach a significant segment of the world's
populace, which was all right with him.  His job was to inform, not 
having time to argue or convince. 

*** 

“Terry, Terry, Terry, Terry,”  Is what he heard as he stood backstage,
with a large bouncer next to him, waiting for word to step between 
curtains and onto the stage.  Although God sent him, Mahmoud was still 
nervous at the thought of such a huge audience, both in the studio and 
on the tube. 

“And here we have a young man heralding the Second Coming.  Please
welcome Mahmoud Zayyad.  Come on out, Mahmoud,”  Terry called. 

When he walked out on stage, Mahmoud heard a rousing cheer, along with
assorted "Boos" from an audience still undecided on which reaction was 
expected of them.  They were waiting for cues from a huge teleprompter 
over the stage. 

“So you're the Son of God, Mahmoud.  Is that right?” 

“Yes, sir.  I'm here to bring a message of my Father's com....”  Boos
filled the air as the teleprompters got busy in the background, 
flashing "Boo" on the screens, along with canned laughter. Of course, 
neither Mahmoud nor the tv audience could see the screens. 

“Yes? You. You have something to say to Mahmoud?”  Terry pointed to a
woman in the front row. 

“You're a crazy nut, Mannad, that's what you is buddy.  I'm a Jew and
you Palerstins are always stirring up troubles.” 

“You fucking Jew, shut the fuck up an'a let the man speak,”  A woman on
the stage, dressed in a Nazi uniform, screamed.  The two joined in 
argument while the audience laughed and booed the woman on stage. 

“Now, now, people.  Keep it down,”  Terry instructed. 

Confused at the reaction, Mahmoud could only stand, mouth opening and
closing while trying to find a moment to give his vital message.  The 
Nazi woman bared her breast to a string of "Ah's" and more "Boo's." 

Another woman on stage, dressed like Supergirl, attacked the Nazi.  They
had to be pulled apart by two of the bouncers.  Terry spread his arms, 
motioning for quiet. 

“You were saying, Mahmoud?” 

“My father will appear in person on December 21, 2023.  It will be at
3:15 pm Eastern Standard Time, to take the deserving back with Him.  
You must prepare.”  There, he had accomplished his task.  Millions had 
heard him. 

“Sorry, Mahmoud, you'll have to repeat that in a few minutes for the
television audience.  We're into commercials right now, buddy,”  Terry 
told him.  The room filled with laughter. 

Mahmoud noticed the Nazi and Supergirl sitting together talking and
laughing.  The room half-emptied as the audience left for the 
restrooms. 

A few minutes later, the two women on stage separated again to continue
their fight, and the show resumed. 

“This is Terry Sprinker, and we're talking to the Son of God, right here
on our stage.  Go ahead Mahmoud, give us your message.” 

“My father will appear in person on December 21, 2023.  At 3:15 pm
Eastern Standard Time, to take....” 

“Fuck you, buddy,” came from the front row.  A fight started there,
egged on by the Nazi woman on stage.  She was then into another 
altercation, that time with Batgirl, and had to be pulled apart by 
another bouncer. 

It took another ten minutes before Mahmoud finally got his message out
again, to cheers and catcalls. 

Coincidentally, that was  just in time for another set of commercials. 
He tried to leave the stage but was stopped by a bouncer.  One who, 
himself, bounced real good across the stage and into the audience as 
Mahmoud evaporated into thin air, on his way back to check with Abbas. 

Mahmoud became a celebrity.  Especially once the Fundamentalist
Television Preachers Organization united against him.  He was forced to 
use vital donation funds to install a telephone in the mud hut.  Abbas 
was kept so busy with calls from around the world that he had to quit 
his McD job, and just when he'd been advanced to fry cook.  Since he 
was now an instant celebrity, reporters lined up at the hut, wanting to 
interview him and Mahmoud. 

The interviews were always brief and, in most part, the same with
Mahmoud telling his message of the coming of God and deferring all 
questions to the Lord Himself on that momentous date.  The same thing 
with the disciples.  Eventually the entire world WAS notified, though 
mostly disbelieving. 

*** 

On the designated day and time, God appeared in front of the mud hut in
Palestine. 

First, a strange comet appeared in the heavens.  It sped toward the
earth, alarming the entire planet.  Slowing, it floated calmly down and 
across half the world ... to Israel.  Ignoring several missiles fired 
by the Israeli government, it settled in front of the mud hut. 

God himself, a huge golden glowing figure, stood amid the squalor.  A
few humoring televisions stations had sent crews, due to all the 
publicity and just in case, you know? Their second and third string 
crews, of course.  It didn't matter, since every television set on the 
planet received the picture by Divine Intervention -- even those turned 
off or unplugged at the time. 

As the apparition took shape, a panic ensued.  God raised both arms,
signaling for silence. 

“Your time has come,”  He told the world.  “I have only a few moments to
answer questions.  Then I will take the faithful from all generations 
and children too young to have sinned.  They will all go to a new and 
better world -- one without original sin.” 

The audience was shocked into silence.  They knew, intrinsically, that
it was the real thing, the Second Coming of the Lord.  Ridicule was 
forgotten. 

A few of the world's religious leaders had attended.  Not many, but a
few.  God motioned to a well-dressed figure in front of one of the 
cameras.  It was a famous American TV preacher. 

“To think I am attending the True Lord of the Universe.” 

“One of them, at least,”  God answered with a smile. 

“The Good Book foretold your coming, Lord.” 

“Enough of this book stuff.  I never wrote or ordered a book written.  I
gave a list of six-hundred or so simple commandments.  That's all I 
did.  In those commandments, I told people how to live among each 
other.  Those who followed them are coming with me, the others are 
not.” 

That statement caused quite a stir world-wide.  It implied that there
was no such thing as a "One True Religion."  The preacher thought that 
point should be clarified. 

“Which religion is the True Religion, Lord?”  he asked, hoping against
hope that his was the one.  “How should we worship you, Lord God?” 

“Worship me?  I don't want you to worship me.  Your planet is an
experiment from my youth.  I simply wanted you to acknowledge me and 
follow my commandments -- for your own good.”  God laughed.  “Since 
those days, I have improved my methods and have a new, much better, 
world to be populated.  I came here for colonists -- and only the ones 
proven to follow orders as told to you in my Commandments.”  He 
motioned to another man, standing in the back with his hand raised. 

“Are the rest of us going to suffer plagues of locusts and angels with
swords, Sir?” the man asked, nervously. 

“Jeez. More of that book stuff?” 

“Are you going to return later, Lord God?” 

“Most likely.  In a few thousand years, to gather new colonists to
populate my next project.  It depends on how long it takes me to design 
and build another planet.” 

HE gave a heavenly grin, raised HIS arms again, and floated into the
air.  At first drifting slowly, HE picked up speed and shot into the 
atmosphere again, like a meteor in reverse. 

As promised, all the faithful did the same.  Large holes appeared in
cemeteries all over the world, as well as in the strangest places, such 
as museums, as the faithful also left in rising balls of Godfire. 

All of the world's small children also disappeared, out of schools and
the arms of their mothers.  Suddenly, no child under about 
four-years-old existed on the face of the globe. 

The governments of Earth hardly noticed.  In the United States, a couple
of congressmen were missing.  Although millions were gone, the most 
important people were still there.  Not a single TV preacher 
disappeared, and very few lawyers.  The Earth went on as normal. 

There was a big difference, though.  People began actually respecting
each other and their multitudinous beliefs.  Crime became almost 
nonexistent as most of the world dug out copies of those old rules and 
took to following God's simple Commandments.  There remained only one 
religion, the True One.  Everyone on the globe knew that there really 
was an afterlife, and that eternal survival depended on their Earthly 
one. 

The End.


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