or, what if C.S.Lewis had been Presbyterian instead of Anglican?
Location: A dungeon somewhere in Eastern Massachusetts
Time: November 19, 2007
First Voice: Damn those Presbyterians!
Second Voice: Will you stop saying that!
First Voice: What, now you're a prude.
Second Voice: No, it's just that...well...we are!
First Voice: Prudes?
Second Voice: No, damned. For all eternity.
First Voice: Eternity's a long way off, mate.
Second Voice: In The Enemy's time, it's already here.
First Voice: Gee, thanks, "Mr. KNOW IT ALL, the Pit's most theologically correct demon," come all the way from Pennsylvania to lecture me.
Second Voice: Don't say that name!
First Voice: Huh? "Gee?" C'mon, it's not his name, it's a misspelling of the first initial.
Second Voice: Whatever, I've still got the creeps from his last visit.
First Voice(embarrassed): Don't remind me. I was taking a Pit Stop myself. Rehab assignment, you know.
Second Voice: How could I forget? Demoted because for three successive Sabbaths you failed to get a Pharisee to count his cumin.
First Voice: I was trying to get him to peek down Martha's veil.
Second Voice: Did it work?
First Voice: No, she would always pray when she walked past him, and he knew it.
Second Voice: Great, you ended up making him pious.
First Voice: I figured he would be proud of his piety.
Second Voice: So that's why they assigned you to the skinny guy in Newton?
First Voice(grunts agreement): He has a great pedigree.
Second Voice: What? His dad???? Sure, he's a Republican, but real Pharisees don't pray like he does. They just can't.
First Voice: What makes you an expert?
Second Voice: I have a choice assignment myself.
First Voice: (sarcastically) Seine Namen?
Second Voice: The skinny guy's big brother!
First Voice: (snorts) Like how hard is it to keep him down?
Second Voice: Harder than it looks. The guy lives at the poverty level so he can be around books. Books about the Enemy. There's even a shrine to Machen, eight feet below his desk at the library!
First Voice: That makes it even easier
Second Voice: Like Hell it does
First Voice: Now who's swearing?
Second Voice: Shut up. Machen stayed with the Presbyterians til they kicked him out. Even mixed with pride and human weakness, the truth in all those Reformed theological tomes is straight from the Enemy. Years ago, the big brother even turned the little skinny one on to social justice!
First Voice(with a derisive laugh): You mean Sojourners? I love it! Too timid to stand up to the liberals, they spend their time smugly pretending conservatives are all materialistic despoilers of the Enemy's creation… But who am I kidding? Yesterday those Presbyterians at Fern Street had a sermon preached by a Jew about the Trinity in Isaiah 11. He went on to say the Enemy’s minions can work for social justice WITHOUT being motivated by guilt. That evening the girl that got away from Cluny's host told her story. We had to put out an emergency call for all the demons in town. Caused a traffic jam on The Pike.
Second Voice: Jews? Preaching at Fern Street? The pretty Unitarian Church? I love the Unitarians--great place to catch a nap.
First Voice: Hello, it was sold to the Presbyterians in 1946.
Second Voice: Unitarian, Presbyterian, most of our guys don't exactly bother to memorize either of their addresses. So, what happened?
First Voice: Well, the skinny guy is easy to distract--any pretty girl will do-- but another militant was hiding in the corner. She saw us swooping down, tapped the skinny guy's shoulder and BOOM! Next thing I knew, I was writhing in pain on that stupid linoleum, listening to a sermon.
Second Voice: Sermon? I thought it was, like, a community event
First Voice: Hah! They’ve been reading the Enemy's instruction booklet. And we lost 'cause of a couple of skinny elders, plus that lady whose teeth we knocked out last year.
Second Voice: Don't you dare mention the lady with the teeth again. How were we to know the Enemy had agents at a Dental School? It’s well known that we own every high school and University on the East Coast... But back to last night: it must've taken more than three of them to hold up Moses’ arms.
First Voice: For once, you're right: We forgot to sweep the basement. Turns out a militant named John was down there, on his knees, all evening. Like I said,
Damn those Presbyterians!