Pete Meets Butt-ugly

So Manson's demonic twin was apparently not interested in the new guy in the house (me) but some other poor bastard who whimpered his way through the entire unfortunate episode I'd rather not speak more about, just in case it ends up being me next on the naughty list. I'll just say this – I have a funny feeling it's Jerry Falwell, because at one point I did hear him screaming something about not being able to help his homophobic fascination with the pink Telly Tubby.

Instead of Manson, my Personal Purgatory Guide paid me a visit. Apparently in this nearly-hell hole, departed souls who are being purged of their half-evil ways are given a spirit guide of sorts – I have given a thought to the wretched who have descended lower than me into Satan's foul dungeon of the damned. I just can't bear to think what devil guides they get when the elevator door opens into the inferno of Satan's inner bowels, if this is what we get in Middle-Hell.

My guide, who I will henceforth refer to as The Ugliest Motherfucker Ever to Have Walked on Three Legs, or Butt-ugly for short, at least had the decency to knock before he entered. He asked me if I was comfortable, to which I replied something along the lines of, "I know people in high places and I was a paintball warrior for Jesus once so there's been a horrible mess up with the afterlife paperwork so get me the fucking hell out of this place before I call the Big Guy on my cellphone, you ugly sonofabitch!"

That was not the cleverest thing I've ever done since shooting those kids with paintballs on Halloween.

I'll let you know how that all went down in my next post.

Please, please, I don't care if you're a goddam Catholic and pray to Mary and other demons, just put in a good word for me and get me the hell out of here!