Thursday, December 26, 2013

New Podcast Episode: Hail Sataning People Is Fun!

I have a brand new episode all about how much fun it is to Hail Satan people! Thanks to Roger from Tasmania for the inspiration!

Here's the podcast:

and here's the facebook conversation that inspired it:

Monday, December 2, 2013

Talent Show

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

It was an exciting evening for all the members and the leaders of The Cult. This evening was reserved for what THEY called fun. I didn't think it sounded like fun at all, nor did I think for a second that I would end up having a good time after all. Satanic miracles can, in fact, happen as I so learned on that evening.

There was a talent show that was happening on the college campus that The Cult leaders had created and set up for anyone to participate in. People who wanted to participate in it had to sign up to be in the talent show. People in The Cult could show off talents that went from singing in a different language all the way to turning your tongue upside down inside your mouth and showing the audience. I did not choose to participate because I didn't like being in the spotlight and I didn't really think that The Cult leaders and members had any right to get to see my beautiful talents. My talents, as far as I was concerned, were reserved for people who I cared about to see and nobody else, especially not The Cult.

"Come on Ashlee Smashlee, sign up like the rest of us," Gluttony begged constantly in the weeks leading up to the talent show.

"It will be fun! Try it!"

"I don't have a talent," I said lamely.

"Sure you do!" she exclaimed.

god has given each one of us talents. Even animals have talents. god didn't want to make us all the same; he wanted us to be special and unique. Come on, I've got the paper right here, I'll write your name down. How do you spell your first and last name again?"

"I'm not signing up," I said, irritated.

"I don't even think I'm going to the stupid show anyway. It sounds retarded to me. I'm sure I can find better things to do."

Gluttony wasn't the only one trying to persuade me to sign up. Piggy, The Chief, Banana, Thief, Matt the Rat, and a few others tried vainly to convince me to sign up, that it would be fun, and that I would regret not signing up to show off my talent for the rest of my life. They were acting like my life depended on the show and whether I signed up and performed or not.

I ignored all of them and persistently gave them all a big, fat "No," every time they brought up the subject. The Cult leaders and members were very persistent people and often times, they got me to cave in at the last minute and do what they wanted me to do. But not this time. I was absolutely DETERMINED not to let them win and have this wish. I had terrible stage fright and I didn't want to give them any ammunition on how they could ridicule me and make me feel bad. They were pretty good at that as it was. Well, not so much making fun of me but more on the side of guilt and trying to make me feel bad for everything I enjoyed.

On the evening of the show, I was planning on hiding out in my dorm room until the coast was clear. I had bought a little bit of chocolate ice cream from the corner store and I planned on pigging out on that. So I was quite surprised when I heard a knock at my door. Stupidly enough, I answered it, thinking it was my friend Saucy or someone who I actually wanted to see. I didn't think that any of The Cult people would come to my house because they all seemed pretty mad at me for not having signed up for the show.

So I was quite surprised when I opened the door and heard The Chief's voice. He said, "Come on Ashlee Smashlee, it's almost time for the talent show!"

"I'm not going," I said coldly.

"I've got things to do."

"Too bad for you because you have to come now. You have no choice."

"Of course I have a choice!" I exploded at him, thinking Who the hell does he think he is telling me that I HAVE to go somewhere that I clearly don't want to go to?

"It's a free country, remember?"

"Well, I guess you don't technically have to come," he said.

"But I signed you up to be a part of the show tonight. Do you really want to bring all of us down by not performing? Do you really want to show people that you are too much of a chicken to do a little three minute performance?"

I was seething. I said loudly, "You have no right to sign my name on pieces of paper without my permission! In case you didn't know, that is called fraud. You can actually go to prison for that, you know. You can go to prison for a long, long time."

"Oh, come on Ashlee, don't be like that," The Chief tried to soothe me.

"Birthday Girl has arrived. I bet she would like to see you."

Somehow knowing that Birthday Girl would be there suddenly made me not feel so bad about performing. I thought that maybe I could get some support from Birthday Girl afterwards. I hoped even more that we could both think of a way to get much-deserved revenge on The Cult for creating this whole stupid event and for forcing me to perform.

On the other hand, I didn't really want to let The Chief off the hook for fraudulently signing my name and letting him have his way, so I was torn between not going and letting him sulk and try to stutter excuses for why I wasn't performing, even though my name was on the participants' sheet. I silently consulted my demons and they all said excitedly, "Go Mommy, go! We have just the PERFECT idea of what you can do to ruin the night for The Chief and totally embarrass him! Come on, let's go, we're going to be late!"

"All right, I'll go," I grumbled.

"That's the spirit!" He said excitedly.

He skipped all the way to where the talent show was taking place, basking in the glory that he had managed to get what he wanted after all. He was basking in the glory and pride in knowing that he was such a convincing guy. He didn't have a single clue what I was thinking as I walked beside him, trying to keep a straight face and not laugh as my friends all gushed to me what their idea of ruining The Chief's night was.

"You know, I'd like to go first," I told The Chief as we entered the building.

"Really?" he asked, quite surprised. I had hoped that I wouldn't give my secret away about what I was up to for suddenly being so eager to perform when minutes ago, I was refusing to even go and watch other performers.

He didn't seem to notice my change in mood at all, too busy praising jesus about his victory, no doubt.

"Really," I told him.

Then, to take away some of the gleeful edge to my voice that I could not contain no matter how hard I tried, I said, "You know, to get this whole bloody thing over with. It's always better to go first when you want to get it over with so you don't have to think about it anymore. And, if I go first, that means I can leave early and don't have to suffer through all the other retarded performances from people who think that they actually have a talent worth flaunting to an audience."

The Chief wasn't offended by my rude answer. He simply said, All right, you shall go first then. I'm so glad that you had a change of heart Ashlee. jesus is happy, too. I bet all of the angels are singing up there in heaven right along with him."

"Yeah right," I mumbled, more to myself than to him.

The idea that my demons had come up was brilliant. There was this popular song that The Cult leaders often encouraged members to sing along to during bible studies and worship parties outside on the college campus. It was a pretty catchy song that often sticks in your mind once you hear it once. I have to admit, even I liked the song and normally I'm not a fan of religious music because it all sounds so whiney and homoerotic to me. The song has several verses, but here's the gist of how it goes. Also, the name of the song doesn't come to me either, but it's pretty cool all the same. It goes like this:

In the morning when I rise,

In the morning when I rise,

In the morning when I rise,

Give me jesus.

Give me jesus,

Give me jesus.

You can have this world,

But give me jesus.

When I'm taking a walk,

When I'm taking a walk,

When I'm taking a walk,

Give me jesus.

Give me jesus,

Give me jesus.

You can have this world,

But give me jesus.

In the kitchen while I cook,

In the kitchen while I cook,

In the kitchen while I cook,

Give me jesus.

Give me jesus,

Give me jesus.

You can have this world,

But give me jesus.

All my demons Chrissie, Mary Meyers, and Nevaeh all thought it would be hilarious and very humiliating to The Chief if I sang the song about him. When they told me, I was so excited and amazed by how much trouble they can think of causing in such a short span of time.

"You guys are BRILLIANT!" I told them silently as we were walking towards the building, before I told The Chief I wanted to go first.

"We'll celebrate after the wicked deed is done."

All of the members of The Cult were both overjoyed and surprised to see me.

"Chief, you're the man," Matt the Rat said, punching him in the back for a good victory well won on Chief's part.

"Yeah, I know it," Chief said, beaming with pride.

"And, get this you guys, Ashlee Smashlee just told me that she wants to go first. What do you say we let her?"

All of the people in the room agreed and so then Chief lead me to the stage. I have to admit, I was a little nervous once I was standing on the stage with all those eyes staring at me intently. But my demons reminded me that in just a few short minutes, nobody would be smiling anymore. And all the stares would be stares of disbelief and horror, not happiness and excitement.

"What are you going to be doing for a talent," The Chief prompted me after several long seconds of silence had passed. In my nervous excitement, I'd forgotten to say anything or begin the show.

"I'm going to be singing a very special song," I told them all.

"You all actually know the song pretty well. Enjoy the show."

Applause boomed all around me. I wished that they would all just shut the fuck up and let me begin my show already. Fortunately, there were no stage lights but still, I was eager to get it over with, even though what I was about to do was truly wicked and I knew that both Satan and Birthday Girl would really appreciate it, not to mention all my demons who had come up with that idea in the first place.

I cleared my throat and, after thanking everybody for their obnoxious clapping, screeching, and whistling, I began to sing, keeping my voice as smooth and clear as I could. I instructed all my demons to make sure that I did not break down and laugh during the performance. That would ruin it somehow and I couldn't afford that.

"We've got your back," they all chimed.

"Go Mommy, you can do it! Hail Satan!!!!!!!!!"

I began to sing:

In the morning when I rise,

In the morning when I rise,

In the morning when I rise,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe The Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

When I'm taking a walk,

When I'm taking a walk,

When I'm taking a walk,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe the Chief,

Give me Keefe the Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

In the kitchen while I cook,

In the kitchen while I cook,

In the kitchen while I cook,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe the Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

When I am alone,

When I am alone,

When I am alone,

Give me Keefe the Chief.

Give me Keefe The Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

When I'm having lunch,

When I'm having lunch,

When I'm having lunch,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe the Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

When I go to church,

When I go to church,

When I go to church,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe The Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

When I say my prayers,

When I say my prayers,

When I say my prayers,

Give me Keefe The Chief.

Give me Keefe The Chief,

Give me Keefe The Chief,

You can have this world,

But give me Keefe The Chief.

I couldn't think of any more verses to add to the song and I didn't really know all the words to the song or how many verses there actually were in the song so I simply bowed my head and said solemly, trying to ignore the laughter clawing and ripping at my throat, trying desperately to escape me, "Cheers to Keefe The Chief for inspiring me to sing this song. I wasn't even going to perform tonight but he was so desperate for attention and publicity that I just couldn't resist."

All throughout my performance, I could hear gasps of shock and horror and even outrage. I also heard a few people get up and actually leave the room, closing the door roughly behind them. Twice during the performance I almost burst out laughing. I swear I would have busted if it weren't for my famous demons.

"Ashlee, that song was for jesus, not for The Chief," Piggy said her voice full of outrage and horror.

"Well, that's what happens when you force someone to perform who doesn't really want to perform in the first place. Let this be a valuable lesson to all of you not to mess with me anymore. Besides, I don't even know why you guys are all so mad anyway; it wasn't like I was singing a bad song. I was simply doing what you all wanted me to do. And the song was about The Chief so he should be happy with me and grateful even that I devoted a godly song to him. I thought he'd like it because he's so obsessed with jesus."

"Thanks Ashlee, nice job," The Chief said, not wanting to make the newer members of The Cult think that he was a poor sport and couldn't take a joke once in a while. The leaders of The Cult were all about pretending to be hippies and immature to lure in new members. But once you had gotten sucked in, their true colors came out big time.

I left the stage, smiling all the way. A few people clapped but I definitely got way less applause then than I had gotten at the beginning, before they knew what I was up to.

I stayed and listened to all the rest of the sucky performances, too gleeful to leave. I was sure that The Chief wanted me to leave early so that he wouldn't have to look at me and so that he would have an easier time keeping his rage and embarrassment under control and enjoy the rest of the show and I wasn't about to give him that victory either.

When all the talents were finished and all the applauding done, Piggy brought out the trophy that the winner of the talent show would receive if they were voted best and most talented. The trophy was passed around from person to person so that they could feel and look at it more closely.

I wasn't even sure what the trophy was but I was already sure I didn't want it, whatever it was. Everything The Cult people had to offer in terms of prizes and food and, well, actually, everything else, just sucked.

When it as my turn to feel the trophy, I took it and discovered that it was a large doll. It had a dress on it and some hair on its head. It definitely was anything but fancy. One of the doll's arms was missing. In its place was a huge wad of stuffing sticking out where the arm had once been. The fabric was torn, too.

"Nice trophy," I said sarcastically. I just couldn't resist. As it was, I was already in a huge load of trouble so what was the harm in causing just a tad bit more?

I passed it to the next person and so it was passed again and again until everyone had seen the lamest trophy in history. Once that task was done, The Chief said, all the enthusiasm gone from his voice, "All rightie, let's tally up the votes and see who is best for this year's talent show."

I was quite sure that my name wouldn't be in there. Well, maybe Birthday Girl had slipped a piece of paper in the basket with my name in it because she, no doubt, thought it was funny, but there would be no more papers with Ashlee on it after hers was discovered.

There was some shuffling and muttering from the leaders as they took all the papers from the basket and examined them all. Suddenly, I heard a gasp slip out of Piggy.

"What's going on?" one of the members asked innocently.

"Oh my gosh!" The Chief cried.

"What, what, what is it?" people all over began to get up out of their chairs to see what the commotion was about. I wasn't even sure myself what it was about. I figured that someone had caused some sort of trouble but, for once, this bout of mischief was not my fault.

"No, Satan is not the best," I heard Banana cry. She wasn't really a leader of The Cult but she was a hard core member who was working her way to becoming a leader, at least that's what I thought.

"What?" People all around began raining question after question down on the leaders until finally Piggy said, "Someone played a sick, sick joke on us. Someone said that Satan was best and should win the trophy for this year's talent show."

I immediately started rolling with laughter. Of course, that brought the blame on me real quick.

"You!" The Chief roared, coming right up in my face.

"It was YOU!!!"

"Dude, how the hell could it have been me?" I asked, laughing even harder at his absurd accusation. For a split second, I wondered if Antichris had somehow snuck in votes for Satan before the talent show when The Cult wasn't looking but he didn't really like going near those people. They creeped him out a lot and I was sure he had better things to do than sneak in and vote Satan as best and most talented. That left only one person. Birthday Girl.

"You know I don't know how to write in print. How could I have put all those pieces of paper in there? I didn't even know where the voting basket was. And, you dim wit, I walked to the talent show with you beside me, remember? So, unless I have some sort of magic powers, it wasn't me."

The Chief thought about that more carefully and then he seemed to believe that it really wasn't me. As he walked away from me, I said, "Whoever pulled it off is pretty damn hilarious. I want to hug and kiss that person right now."

But nobody came forward then. Birthday Girl was too afraid to come forward when causing mischief around The Cult. She caused it openly when they weren't around to see her but when she was surrounded by all the leaders and hard core members; she became putty in their hands. I guess I did, too, but I was striving at getting stronger and less afraid of them. It would take time, that I knew, but it was a goal I knew I could accomplish with a lot of effort and encouragement from my demons and Antichris.

I forgot who won the trophy, someone I didn't know I guess. Whoever won it could have it. As far as I was concerned, the dumpster outside the building should have been given that trophy because that is exactly where it belonged. I was simply relieved that it wasn't me who won it because I'm sure I would have lost it or thrown it away myself and then would have been harassed and badgered come next year when the doll was to be given to another person who happened to be voted best and most talented. I didn't want to be responsible for anything those days, especially when it came to things that a lot of people seemed to value but that I considered absolute garbage and a waste of space in my room.

After the victor won the trash trophy and people started walking around to socialize or try and escape when the leaders weren't looking, Matt the Rat came up to me. He said, "Your little stunt tonight was not funny at all. Do you know that someone actually thought that you were singing about doing weed?"

"I was?" I was very surprised by this. How could singing about Keefe The Chief sound like I was singing about smoking weed?

"Well, he thought so. He was a new guest, someone that I invited because I thought he'd like to watch the talent show and see just how fun Christianity can be. I didn't think that he would think that we encourage drug use after tonight but, now, thanks to you Ashlee Smashlee, he does and he won't stop laughing about it. I'm sure that's going to be on his facebook tonight."

"Well, I happen to think it's pretty funny, too," I told him and walked away from him, determined not to allow him to ruin my victory.

Sometime later, I caught up with Birthday Girl. I asked her in a hushed voice, "Was it you?"

"Who else?" she laughed.

"Pretty clever, don't you think?"

"Yes, absolutely. Satan won the talent show for the year. And you really embarrassed the shit out of The Chief. I've never seen his face get that red before in the time that I've been here."

"Good," was all I said.

We both laughed our heads off and then I went home and devoured the entire tub of ice cream with all my demons. I was sure that Birthday Girl would never come clean about what she had done to The Cult members and leaders, nor would she repent. This made the victory all the more sweet and wicked. It was a night to celebrate, a night to look back upon and laugh about, a night to acknowledge that I had actually stood up to The Cult leaders in a powerful, unforgettable way. I was quite certain that they would not be asking me to attend and participate in the following year's talent show and I was quite all right with that.

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Prayer Sucks!


I had had it with The Cult that night. It was time to seriously mess with them and embarrass the hell out of them. That was what was going through my drunken mind as I set out to find their bible study and make them wish that they had never met me. I had stolen one of my psychotic roommate's wine and had drank pretty much the whole bottle by myself. It was plum wine and it tasted like it was a cheap, crappy wine but it made me feel better. It made me feel more relaxed, confident, and more than ready to take those cult leaders down. Besides, I was pretty sure I'd have hecklers on my side that would be rooting me on. People had started heckling The Cult leaders during bible study because they were taking up the room that had a huge TV in it and they were interrupting South Park, which a lot of the college students enjoyed watching but couldn't because the bible study was interfering with it.

It took me a while to get to the bible study because of how drunk I was. I hadn't really realized just how drunk I was until I started walking away from my dorm. My head was fuzzy and I kept tripping over virtually nothing but I was determined to accomplish my mission. So, gritting my teeth and cursing, I continued, making slow progress but progress nonetheless.

When I got there, the bible study was already in progress. The Chief was praying. Before and after each bible study, The Chief or Piggy would pray. This prayer was the intro to the bible study.

"Bla, bla, bla," I said loudly, right in the middle of The Chief's sentence.

"I don't really think god's listening to you. He couldn't care less what you fools are talking about."

I heard someone whistle from a ways away and I assumed it was one of the hecklers. They were in another room but they could still hear what I said apparently.

The Chief ignored me and continued to pray as if I hadn't even spoken. So I started singing:

Prayer sucks balls,

Prayer sucks balls!

God wishes you'd all just shut up,

He doesn't give a shit what you fools are saying anyway.

The Chief quickly ended his prayer and then said crossly, "Ashlee, you are being very rude! You know that it is not ok to pray."

"Are you drunk Ashlee?" Thief asked.

"Are you stupid?" I asked in return. It would have been obvious to even a retarded person that I was drunk.

"Yes, I am totally drunk and proud of it, too. I'm so glad I missed your ridiculous prayer."

"Ashlee, if you don't want to listen to the bible study, you really shouldn't be here," The Chief said.

"Neither should you!" One of the hecklers called.

"We're trying to watch TV here."

I hadn't noticed but someone had turned on the TV and had turned the volume up really loud, trying to block out The Chief's droning, boring voice as he began leading his pointless bible study that I'm sure nobody really wanted to hear.

"See, I've got someone on my side," I said and then laughed. By then, I had tripped on someone's foot or backpack or something and was sitting on the floor. However, I wasn't comfortable on the floor so I staggered to my feet and looked for an empty chair. There weren't any that I could see and nobody made any effort to get their fat, jesus asses up so I just plopped down on one of the members lap.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She tried to buck me off but I pinned her down and said, "I'm not letting you up until you tell The Chief that his prayer sucked butt."

"Get off of me!" she cried.

Just then The Chief strolled over and picked me up off of her. He lead me to an empty chair, which just happened to be right up in front where he was sitting.

"How do you know that my prayer sucked?" he asked, trying to remain calm. I could hear the strain in his voice and I began laughing like a hyena.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"How do you know my prayer sucked when you didn't even arrive on time?"

"Your prayers always suck!" I yelled.

I mean, jesus h christ! Who in their right mind prays to jesus, thanking him for a glass of water before they drink it?"

"They pray before they drink a glass of water?" one of the hecklers asked, incredulous.

"They pray for every fucking thing. They pray to thank god before they eat. They pray before they are allowed to take the first sip of water from their glass. They pray for this campus because they feel that they need to convert every single student that goes to this college. As if they don't have enough psychotic followers, right?"

"Yeah, preach it sister!" A few of the hecklers yelled.

"Preach it, preach it, and preach it."

I noticed now that the TV was turned either all the way down or completely off. I had evidently grabbed the attention of the hecklers and they weren't annoyed at MY style of preaching.

Feeling encouraged I said, "You know, I haven't prayed to god for a long, long time. Praying totally sucks! When I used to pray to god and ask him for stuff, he would never answer my prayers. In fact, he would give me the exact opposite of what I wanted. Yeah, I can totally feel the love god, I totally feel it," I said sarcastically.

Then, turning to the direction of the hecklers, I said, "Don't you think that god has a funny way of showing his love for people?"

"Yeah, his love sucks!" They all bellowed.

"All right, all right," Banana called.

"Let's get on topic here. Chief is about to discuss a bible verse and then he wants us to discuss it in groups. Let's get on topic here, ok?"

"But her topic is way more interesting and entertaining than yours," one of the hecklers said.

The rest of the hecklers began booing The Cult leader and Banana and I joined right along with them. Once it had quieted some, I said, "You know, what I've found out with my praying experience is that you actually get what you want and what you asked for when you don't actually pray at all. Oh, and, when I used to pray at night before I went to sleep, the next day always sucked balls for me. It was like god was punishing me for praying to him, even though in the bible he demands everyone to pray to him. But I don't see the appeal in praying, especially when god turns his back and makes the next day a living hell because you did what he asked us to do."

"Well, perhaps you aren't having a positive experience with prayer because you aren't thanking god for enough of the gifts that he gives us," The Chief suggested, clearly trying to rebuke me for crashing his bible study.

"I used to thank god for stuff," I said.

"It never did a damn bit of good. I guess I never thanked him for a glass of water before I drank like you freaks do but that just seemed psychotic to me and I bet it makes all the angels in heaven and even god himself laugh at you little shit heads for clogging up his ears with useless prayers."

"But there are a lot of people in this world who are hungry," Thief cried.

"Yeah, and there are also lots of people who are dying of thirst because of drought," one of the members exclaimed.

"Well, they probably have prayed to god asking for water and he probably denied all their requests because that's the kind of god they worship," I said, pointing rudely at The Cult people.

"Their god, whom they claim over and over is the epitome of love, is really an asshole who lets people starve and die of thirst and suffer because he knows he can let it happen. After all, he is in control of all things, yes?"

"Well, not with everything," one of the hecklers said cheerfully.

"Satan has power and control, too. After all, many psycho jesus freaks believe that the whole world is run by Satan."

"I think it is run by Satan because god does such a shitty job of running it," another heckler agreed.

"Satan saw that god just wasn't fit to run the world and so he took over and god is bitter about it. He's too busy pouting and throwing a toddler tantrum to care about the hungry and the ill and the thirsty and other kinds of ailing people in the world."

The Chief finally stood up. I think he was standing up so he could try and intimidate me with his monstrous height but it didn't work. I said to everyone in the room, "Thanks for listening everybody. I just wanted to tell you all that my life got a hell of a lot better once I stopped praying. My days got better and I found myself using way less energy in everyday life now that I am without the burden of prayer. I get to take a bite of food much faster than I did when I used to thank god for it because I thought I had to. My food is less cold and more delicious now that I have stopped thanking god for it. And, I get to masturbate before I go to bed instead of pray and ask for things, only to be rejected. Masturbating before bed is way more satisfying than praying before bed is. Try it sometime; you'll see just how right I am."

The hecklers all started clapping as I got up and stumbled my way out of the room. By then, I was really feeling like I was going to black out. I needed to get home soon.

"You rock sister," one of the hecklers said to me as I walked out of the building.

"Come back again."

"Oh, believe me, I will," I said.

"Smm Smm, Smm Smm, Smm Smm!"

Then I left the building and staggered all the way home, falling down a lot on the way but laughing all the while at my victorious night.

That night, when the hangover finally hit, I still felt satisfied and proud of myself. I didn't mind the pounding headache or the nausea. I knew that I would never have had the courage to crash the bible study if I hadn't been drunk. And, what made it even sweeter was that my roommate discovered that her wine had gone missing and it made her scream like a little toddler throwing a temper tantrum because that's what she did when she got angry. All of my demons were proud of me, too. I knew that eventually I'd get a huge lecture from one of The Cult leaders, or maybe even all of them plus some of the hard core members who had been deeply offended by my speech, but I didn't care. Sometimes in life, you have to face consequences when you do something that you enjoy and most of the time; the consequences are worth paying because of how satisfying doing the naughty thing ended up being.

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

Monday, November 18, 2013

High on Satan!

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

Everything was too still and plain around me. People were going about their ordinary lives, either doing errands or going to work or visiting boring friends and relatives of theirs. In any event, everything just seemed too dull and boring and my demons could not have agreed more. It amazed me a great deal of the time how so many people in the world lead such boring, uneventful, unproductive lives. Not only did that amaze me, but the fact that they were ok with living such dull, uninteresting lives completely boggled my mind. No wonder so many people seem so depressed and bored all the time. It's because they live such boring lives and, in general, most people that I knew at the time anyway, were boring as hell. Just having a conversation with them for more than five minutes either made me fall asleep with sheer boredom or I was bored to almost literal tears.

As my demons were pondering this with me on this too still and dull of a day, it hit me that I could do something to change that boring, dull feeling that seemed to suffocate me wherever I went. It so happened that I knew just how to make the day more interesting and who I wanted to do it with. My demons started doing cartwheels and somersaults with excitement as we got ready to go on our mission to cause trouble and stir up all the boring people we could find. Birthday Girl and I had started talking a lot pretty much right after I was forced to attend her birthday party at the bar and restaurant. She had decided that I was cool and interesting and I had decided that about her. The thing that made me decide that she would be an all right friend to have around and cause trouble with was when she started obsessively watching the Satanis documentary online that I recommended for her to watch to learn more about Satanism. She told me that she would watch it three, four, five, sometimes even six times a day if life was dull and she had nothing better to do. But what really made me like her enough to where I decided I wanted to be her friend was when she started walking around with her phone and showing as many people as she could the Satanis documentary. She even got around to showing The Cult leaders and members, much to their dismay. Birthday Girl showed the documentary to both people who were really disturbed by Satan and also to people who thought that Satan was actually fascinating. She took the most pleasure in showing it to people who were uptight and very uncomfortable with Satanism and the fact that Satanists actually do exist, though. Like me, she liked to see the reactions of disgust and shock from people who greatly disapproved of Satan and his followers.

It didn't take long for The Cult leaders to really regret their decision about having guilted me into going to her stupid birthday party. In their minds, Birthday Girl would never have started taking such an intense interest in Satan if I hadn't been their to "Corrupt her mind," as they often said it when people did things that The Cult leaders didn't approve of. I, on the other hand, was quite content with their decision to have guilted me into going to the party because I don't think I would have gotten to know Birthday Girl better if I hadn't really had a chance to sit down and witness to her about Satan, which was what I did when I was at her lame party. I'm also pretty sure that we wouldn't have became friends and gotten the lucky opportunity to cause so much trouble, which was exactly what we did whenever we were with each other. Don't get me wrong, Birthday Girl and I definitely caused a great deal of trouble when we weren't hanging out but we caused even more trouble when we were together. We fed off of each others ideas and we really managed to disturb and disgust a countless number of people, much to our utter joy and wicked satisfaction.

It wasn't long before Birthday Girl and I hooked up that day. She, too, was feeling bored and oddly melancholy. So I said, "Well, let's get rid of that melancholy feeling and go cause some trouble, shall we?"

"What should we do?" she asked.

"We should walk around town and yell 'Hail Satan!' to people."

Birthday Girl lived in a conservative town only about twenty minutes or so away from the college campus. Her town was way more conservative than the town where I lived. Birthday Girl cheered up at once. She absolutely LOVED yelling "Hail Satan!" to people. At first, when I showed her how I walked around and yelled it to random strangers, she didn't seem like she felt comfortable doing it. She said that she didn't want people to think she was crazy. At that, I had remarked, "That's the fun part, though, making people think that you are crazy. Come on, just yell it once. If you don't like it, you don't have to do it anymore. But you gotta try it because it's really fun and just listen to how disgusted those people all are."

So she had tried it and she had immediately fallen in love with walking around and yelling "Hail Satan!" to total strangers. However, she had only yelled it in my town, where people were less uptight and were actually starting to embrace Satan because of Antichris's Satan project and because of all the Satanic fliers he was putting up all over campus and all over town. She had never tried yelling it in her conservative, boring little town, though, and that sent a thrill up and down her whole body as well as mine.

"Before I go, let's smoke some pot," she suggested.

"I hate smoking stuff," I told her.

"Just try it. You'll choke at first but you'll get used to it and then it doesn't make you cough so much."

"All right," I said, not wanting to sound too lame. After all, Birthday Girl had embraced the idea of Satanism so eagerly and enthusiastically. I didn't want to be the wet blanket, too lame to try smoking a little pot from a bong. What was the worst that could happen anyway?

She brought the bong out and, after a minute of watching her smoke it, I leaned in and inhaled. I began choking and coughing and wheezing immediately. My lungs felt like they were engulfed in flames, with a searing, burning pain shooting off all around in my throat.

"Ok, ok, take it easy Ashlee," Birthday Girl soothed.

"Try again. This time, don't inhale so fast."

"No fucking way bitch," I told her.

"I ain't smoking any more of this shit. It's all yours."

"How are we going to cause trouble if we aren't both high?" she whined.

"I'm cool," I told her, arrogantly, which is exactly something my dad would have said if he were present.

"I don't need to get high to be able to be a good witness for Satan."

"Hold on a minute," Birthday Girl said and she breezed out of the room to her room. Her roommate Rebecca was home and she couldn't stop laughing at me for practically having an asthma attack over one little intake of pot.

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" I yelled, but I was smiling now, mostly recovered from my bout of coughing.

Birthday Girl quickly returned with a tincture. Well, I didn't know what it was at first until she explained it to me. She said, "Ok, I think you'll like this much, much better. This is a tincture. It's got pot in it but you don't have to smoke it. It's in liquid form. It tastes really nasty, which is why I prefer to smoke weed rather than take it in drops like this but I think it'll be better for you this way."

"You could have freaking given that to me the first time," I grumbled, still feeling queasy from inhaling all that disgusting, stinky weed. I was a little reluctant to try the liquid drops of pot but, after Birthday Girl urged me on for a while and even said a little prayer to Satan that I would stop being such a stick in the mud, I decided I'd try it. I must say, it was MUCH better than smoking it.

Yes, it did taste absolutely nasty but at least I knew I wasn't going to choke to death getting high that way. We got a little stoned, and then a lot stoned. Before long, we were laughing at every single thing we said. We also started getting our words mixed up and laughing even harder about that.

"All right, let's go yell 'Hail Satan!' to those people," Birthday Girl said.

"Where should we go?" I asked, feeling slightly lightheaded from the pot but otherwise, eager to go out there and bring as many people as I could to Satan. Or, better yet, make as many people as I could mad and disturbed and disgusted.

"I have to go to Fred Meyer," Rebecca said to us.

"You guys can yell it there while I shop."

"Ok!" we both cried and ran for the door and jumped in the car.

The parking lot was jam packed with people, shopping carts, and cars. Birthday Girl whistled with pleasure and I yelled, "Yes! Hail Satan! Hail Satan! There are people here! Rebecca, park the damn car already so we can begin to witness already."

As soon as she parked, Birthday Girl and I flung our doors open and both of us began yelling "Hail Satan! Hail Satan!" and "Hail Satan!"

Nobody said anything to us but Birthday Girl nearly fell over in a fit of laughter, which naturally set me off.

"What is it, what is it?" I asked once I could speak again.

"Oh Ashlee, didn't you see all those dirty looks we got? Someone even flipped us off."

"No you idiot, I'm blind, remember?" I shot back. Of course, that set us off laughing again.

When we recovered, I yelled to someone who was walking really slowly with a shopping cart or a stroller or whatever in the hell it was, "Hey, come back! Come back! Don't you want to hear the good news about Satan?"

The person kept moving. Birthday Girl ran up to the person and grabbed one of its arms.

"Hey!" It was a woman, and none too happy of a woman either I must say.

"Let go of my arm!"

"Oh, just wait a minute," Birthday Girl said, giggling.

"There is so much joy in Satan, so much wonderful stuff to hear about Him. Don't you want us to tell you all about Satan?"

"No, I do not!" the woman said sternly and jerked her arm out of Birthday Girl's hand.

As she started walking really slowly away, I reached my cane out and hit her in the backs of her legs, yelling "Hee-yaaaaaa!"

"Ouch!" the woman cried and I yelled, "Sorry about that. Hail Satan!"

There was a woman with a bunch of kids walking out of the store just then. I walked up to them and said, "Satan loves you all. Such adorable kids you have. Want to say thank you to Satan for them? We'll pray to Satan for you."

"Yeah, we will!" Shrieked Birthday Girl.

"We love to pray to Satan. We LIVE to pray for Satan and to glorify Him."

"How could you do this?" the woman hissed.

"I've got three kids right here and you two are shamelessly talking about the Devil!"

She hissed the word Devil out between her teeth. Laughing, I said, "Satan loves little kids, too. We don't want to hurt anybody; we just want to tell the world about Satan."

"Mommy, why do those girls keep laughing?" One of the kids asked.

"Mommy, who is Satan?" Another younger kid asked.

"See what you've done?" the woman snapped.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves."

"Well, we're not," Birthday Girl said.

"You should be the one who is ashamed of yourself for not educating your kids about Satan. You're probably one of those overbearing moms who shove jesus down their throats and make them go to church, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you?"

At the repetitive song of "Aren't you's?", that Birthday Girl was saying, I joined in singing, "Yeah, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you? Hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan!"

"All right you two, that's enough!"

We turned around to find Rebecca standing there, furious with us. She grabbed both of our shoulders and tried to steer us towards her car.

"Do you seriously want us to be arrested or something? Someone's bound to call security any damn minute and I haven't even gotten a chance to do any of my fucking shopping."

"Why not?" I asked innocently.

"Yeah," Birthday Girl piped up.

"Isn't that the whole reason why we came here anyway? So you could do your precious shopping?"

"And so I could get you two lunatics out of my house," she spat at us.

"Now get in the damn car and shut up. I'm going to lock you two in there so I can do my shopping. I'll be back in a minute."

"Oh, no you're not going to lock me in there!" I yelled, all the laughter gone from me.

"I've been locked in a car before and I'll be damned if I let you do that to me right now. I'll be damned if I let ANYBODY EVER do that to me again!"

"All right, all right, calm down," Rebecca said, clearly seeing the panic that started erupting inside of me.

"I won't lock you in the car but, please, for the love of god, can you PLEASE not grab people's arms and scare little children today?"

"It's not for the love of god, it's for the love of Satan!" Birthday Girl hollered.

"How stupid are you anyway?"

As soon as she let us go, Birthday Girl and I started walking towards people's cars. I tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Hey Birthday Girl, you know how those psycho Christians walk up to people's cars and drop their literature in through open windows or how they will talk to people when they are sitting in their cars minding their own business?"

"Yeah," she responded.

"Well, wouldn't it be funny if we did that to people? You know, went up to their cars and told them that we were a part of the Satanic Missionary and that we wanted to tell them about the joy of Satan if they are interested."

"Yes, yes, YES!" she exclaimed.

"I'll look for cars with people in them."

She hauled me along. As we walked, I continued yelling "Hail Satan, hail Satan, Satan loves you!" to people. Once, I even stopped and grabbed ahold of someone's shopping cart because I was tired of being ignored. Once I had fully managed to get that person's attention, I said, "Satan really loves you. Can't you feel his Dark, Unholy spirit coursing through your veins right now?"

"You fucking weirdo, let go of my cart before I call the cops," a guy with a nasal voice growled.

"What the hell is wrong with this generation of people anyway? Nobody ever even thought of Satanism when I was growing up."

"Times have changed, my lame, boring, pathetic, pitiful old man," I said.

"Satanists are all over the place now. You just never know when you will find yourself eating right next to a Satanist in a restaurant or find yourself in the bank with one. Hell, did you know that Satanists are even beginning to congregate downtown and have cookies once a month? Yes my old friend, Satanists are everywhere. Perhaps the person who made the very cart that your ugly hands are touching was a Satanist. You just never know."

"Don't call me your friend," he growled.

"I am not your friend."

He walked quickly away, grumbling to himself as he walked. Every five or ten steps, he'd turn around and make sure that we weren't following him. Or, perhaps, he was looking over his shoulder to see if there might be other Satanists that were following him that wanted to tell him the great news about Satan. Or, just maybe, he really believed what I said about Satanists being everywhere and he really was starting to flip out. All of those possibilities made me feel very happy. I let a slow, evil grin slide over my face. I was having such a fantastic time! Who knew how much fun it could be to get high on weed and proselytize about Satan to random, conservative, boring, uptight strangers who clearly didn't want anything to do with Satan or his followers?

We were in luck with finding some people in their cars. A few people were just parking their cars and had just turned their engines off when we ran up to their doors and opened them before the drivers could get out. We earned a lot of "Hey, get the hell away from me, you crazy animals!" We also got a lot of, "What, are you guys high or something?" Someone asked us if we had mental illnesses and if we needed someone to call an ambulance to ship us off to the loony bin. That, of course, set us off in bouts of hysterical laughter that we could not control for several minutes.

When we were asked those sorts of questions, we just laughed and said, "No, we're not mentally ill or anything, we're just wanting to talk to you about the great news about our Great Teacher Satan! We're a part of the Satanic Missionary. Would you like to hear more about Satan now that you know we're safe people?"

"No, get away from me!" were the responses we mostly got. But as they got out of their cars, we followed them to the entrance of the store, yelling "Hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan! Satan loves you! Hey, if you change your minds, come back to us. Satan loves you!"

The one response that really sticks in my mind came from a woman. Birthday Girl said that she didn't really look that old but her voice sure as hell sounded like the voice of a granny. We had just pulled open her car door because it wasn't locked and we yelled in her face, "Hail Satan! Welcome to Fred Meyer, hail Satan! Satan brought you here for a reason, so you could meet us and hear all about Him and His evil works that we love!"

The woman was pretty calm. All she did was mumble softly, "Just get me through another day lord, just get me through another day. Merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas. Just get me through another day lord, just another day."

"Merry Christmas?!!!" I laughed.

"Christmas is so long past now. What planet are you on lady?"

"Just another day Lord, just get me through another day," she kept babbling.

She then abruptly shut her car door, locked it, and rolled up her windows and sat there, rocking back and forth in her seat. Birthday Girl said her lips were moving so she was probably still repeating the same thing over and over to herself.

I yelled to her, "Yes, talk to our Dark Lord, he's listening, unlike the other lord, the Christian lord. Yes, talk to Satan, that's right old lady, that's right! See, Satan isn't such a bad guy, he won't hurt you. Hey Birthday Girl, I think we've got a follower, she's talking to Lord Satan!"

"No she's not!"

Birthday Girl and I jumped as Rebecca came barreling towards us.

"Get in the mother fucking car!" she bellowed.

"We're leaving now. I've been following you two this whole time, too afraid to leave you behind. People all over are thinking that you two were trying to hijack people's cars or mug them or something. What the fuck's wrong with you? Maybe you two DO have a mental condition. I'm about to call the nuthouse myself."

"Oh, loosen up old granny," I taunted.

"At least we're having fun, unlike all these other ordinary people who just walk aimlessly through their sad little lives with nothing entertaining and fun going on. Why do you think so many people commit suicide anyway? It's because they're so freaking boring!"

But, as it happened, the pot was actually wearing off and, with that wearing off, came a great desire to cuddle up against my seat and take a nap. Birthday Girl seemed to be feeling the same way because she willingly went with Rebecca to the car, though we continued mercilessly taunting her all the way.

All my demons were tired, too. They had never before actually caused that kind of trouble before that involved opening people's car doors and pulling on the handles of shopping carts. Sure, we all got to yell "Hail Satan!", when we were with Antichris but even he had a limit for how much trouble we should cause while we were with him.

We were silent and sleepy the whole way back home. I sighed in contentment and told my demons, Rebecca, and Birthday Girl, "Today was a fairy tale."

"Amen sister! Hail Satan!" Birthday Girl responded and then we nodded off into dark, wicked, demonic sleep.

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Confession


It was a quiet, boring evening in my dorm. My roommates were home but they were all locked up in their rooms, watching movies on their computers or doing their homework or obsessively checking their facebook accounts. Normally, I was all right being surrounded by quiet, but that evening I was feeling feisty, and in great need to cause trouble. I had work that I should have been tending to but doing work just didn't seem like it would quench my need for causing trouble.  Doing work is boring. Causing trouble, on the other hand, can entertain someone for hours if they know how to cause the trouble right and make it last for a long time.

I wasn't the only one feeling particularly feisty. All of my demons were jumping on my bed and running around my dorm room like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. They were tired of being cooped up in the dorm and they wanted to cause trouble, too.

"All right you guys, why don't you all quit yelling and tell me what kind of trouble you think we should cause tonight," I said.

For once, all of my demons all agreed on one idea tonight. Usually, they all had different ideas of what kind of trouble to cause and they ended up fighting with each other about whose idea was better. Tonight, though, they all spoke in unison and no squabbles broke out. That was utterly amazing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they are all fighting with each other over everything so it took me off guard that they all wanted to do the same thing.

"Let's call The Chief and mess with him!" They all crowed.

"How do we mess with him tonight?" I asked. Ideas started swarming all around in my head but my demons already had an idea picked out. And quite a brilliant idea, too, I must add.

"Let's call The Chief and confess to him about why you always say Smm Smm!" They cried.

"Let's confess to The Chief about how demonic Smm Smm is. Let's freak him out and make him twitch again."

The Chief had a way of twitching visibly when something really, really disturbed him. My demons and I witnessed him twitch a while back and we all thought that was priceless. We wanted him to do it again.

"That's a great idea!" I exclaimed.

"The only thing is, we won't get to actually watch him twitch because he's not here."

"That's ok Mommy," Mary Meyers said.

"We'll all know in our black, demonic, wicked hearts that he's twitching. We'll tell you when he starts to twitch. Come on, come on, let's call him already!"

"All right, all right," I said and went to my phone, which was lying on my desk.

"Let's cause some real trouble."

The Chief answered his phone after a few rings. "Hi Ashlee Smashlee," he said, sounding really excited that I had called him.

"Hi there Chief," I said.

"What are you doing right now? It sounds like you're driving."

"I am," The Chief responded.

"I'm driving home from visiting my parents and a friend of mine. What's up?"

"Well, I know it's against the law to talk on the phone while driving but I really need to talk to you right now. It's urgent!"

"Urgent? What's wrong? What has happened? Has Satan finally shown his true colors like I told you he would? Are you hurt? I can pull over and pray if that's what you need."

"Well, I wouldn't say that Satan has shown any true colors actually. It's kind of difficult to explain," I told him, trying to make my voice sound nervous and heavily convicted like major sinners sound when they are confessing to a priest at a confessional.

"I'm listening," he said, his voice sounding grim and strained. He was putting on his priest voice I guess and quite a pathetic version of that, too I must add.

"Well, I have something I really need to confess to you. It's really been bothering me for some time now. Every time I try to tell you about it, I chicken out or something stops me."

"Something stops you? Hmmmmm, like is it a demon stopping you?"

"Possibly," I told him, biting my lower lip really hard to try and kill the laughter that was bubbling up inside myself and trying to burst through me.

"Help me here!" I thought to my demons silently.

"Help me not laugh. This won't work if I bust up laughing."

As soon as I felt like I could go on, I said, "Well, god's really been convicting me and telling me that I need to confess to you about why I say Smm Smm so much and who Smm Smm really is."

"Smm Smm actually IS something?" The Chief asked, his voice going up higher with every word.

"Yeah, Smm Smm is an actual thing."

"Well, what is he?" I could tell The Chief was really afraid to ask but he felt like he had to. Quite possibly, he thought that he felt god convicting his heart and demanding him to be strong for me while I handed him this hefty, bitter confession that I'd been too afraid and ashamed to talk about for a long time. Or, that's at least what he thought was going on. He had no idea that I was just messing with him for a half hour or more of entertainment on a boring, gloomy night.

"Smm Smm is a demon," I told him, making sure to make my voice slow and unsure so that he'd think I was scared and ashamed to go on.

"A demon? And where did, ahem, Smm Smm come from?"

The Chief always cleared his throat when something made him uncomfortable or when there was a word he didn't want to say out loud. I was quite shocked that he even managed to say Smm Smm.

"Well, he came to me from Satan I guess. You see, Smm Smm told me that he was brought before me as a gift from Satan himself. Smm Smm said that I could use him, meaning Smm Smm, when I needed to have a direct conversation with the Devil. Smm Smm is sort of like the direct path leading to Satan."

There was a long silence while The Chief pondered this disturbing confession. I took advantage of this silence and went on.

"I've tried to rebuke Smm Smm but he said that I cannot get rid of him. He says that Satan gave him direct orders to stay with me forever. And while Smm Smm stays with me, his job is to help guide me away from jesus and closer to Satan.  So, Smm Smm was sent by Satan himself to lead me from the right hand path to the left hand path so that I can learn to embrace selfishness, wickedness, and other forms of sinfulness. There is absolutely nothing I can do to get rid of Smm Smm."

"How do you feel about that Ashlee?" The Chief asked, a clear note of concern etching his voice.

"Well, that's the disturbing part to me!" I cried, trying my best to sound like I was really scared and frantic for The Chief's advice.

"I actually like having Smm Smm around. I know it's very wrong to want a demon of Satan to live inside my soul and that it is a huge sin to want to invoke him every second that I am awake, but I do. I really love Smm Smm, which is why I say it so much. When I say Smm Smm, it is because I am praising him. I am showing him that his name is truly important to me and that I am proud of what he has been sent out to do for me and to me."

I had told my demons that I wouldn't be able to tell if The Chief was twitching because we weren't in the same room as each other, but, boy was I wrong. A strange sound came from The Chief that I could easily hear, even though we were both using cell phones and the sound of the road that he was driving on was quite noisy. The Chief began to make a "Ch Ch Ch," sound with his mouth. It reminded me of the sounds my ex drum teacher used to make when he tought me how to get better at playing the drums. You see, my drum teacher had Tourrette's Syndrome and so he often experienced facial ticks that made him make sounds like "Ch Ch Ch," when his face twitched.

Well, now The Chief was making those sounds and I knew he wasn't trying to make the "Ch," sound voluntarily. He was twitching involuntarily and, obviously the twitching was severe because it forced him to make that sound.

"Hey Chief, are you all right?" I asked him, pretending to be really concerned but really I was dying with trying to hold back wild laughter inside. I told my demons I didn't know how much longer I could stay on the phone with The Chief and try to pull this confession off because it was too hard to hold back the laughter. No matter how hard I bit my lip and felt pain, the laughter was becoming harder and harder to control.

"We'll help Mommy," they all assured me.

"Just stay on the phone a little bit longer. He's really disturbed now. Did you hear him twitch?"

"Oh Ashlee, Ashlee, Ashlee," The Chief said in a choked voice.

"This is really, really bad. This involves doing some serious praying to try and get him out of you."

"But that's just it, Chief," I said, trying to make myself sound hysterical.  That wasn't too hard because the laughter made my voice sound really high and frantic.

"He can't be exorcised from me. He's here forever. And, you can't mess with Smm Smm or he will seek revenge on those who mess with him. Do you want to know why I say Smm Smm instead of just Smm?"

"Why?" he said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

"I have to say Smm Smm because, if I just say Smm, I will be eternally cursed.  Everybody has to say Smm Smm just like that or else they will be eternally cursed.  Smm Smm also really gets pleased when people give him extra glory by saying Smm Smm, Smm Smm instead of just Smm Smm.  But you can never just call him Smm or else you'll be in big trouble. Your soul will be eternally damned."

A gasp rose from The Chief and he cried out in earnest horror, "Oh god, oh god, you DO always say it in pairs! I've never, EVER heard you just say Smm. You always say Smm Smm. I always wondered why it always was said two times because it is all the same word. It would be like repeating snail two times, like snail snail."

The Chief was rambling now, clearly beyond disturbed. Before he could talk further and really make the laughter get out of my control once and for all, I said, "Chief, you don't get it, Smm Smm is not a word, it's a name! It's my demon's name and Smm Smm demands people to respect it and say it in pairs. If you say Smm Smm, Smm Smm, you get more brownie points."

"I don't want to say it," The Chief whispered.

Then the laughter hit me hard and solid. "This isn't funny Ashlee!" The Chief shouted.

"I know, I know," I shrieked, trying to reign in the violent surges of hysterical laughter that I was quickly losing control of.

"That wasn't me laughing, that was Smm Smm making me laugh. He really wants you to say Smm Smm, Smm Smm. He doesn't understand why you don't want to use his name. He says it can't hurt you. Well, it can't hurt you unless you only say Smm one time."

Just then, The Chief groaned and yelled, "Oh FUCK!"

"What's the matter Chief?" I asked him.

"Did Smm Smm really just make you say the F word? I didn't even know you knew how to use that word. I mean, you did use it once before but then I thought that god erased it from your pure, sin free brain."

"I have to go Ashlee!" He yelled.

"I'm being pulled over by a cop. Oh god, oh god, oh god, please, please, please help me. Oh god, oh god."

The phone went dead as he hung up on me. And then, with a heaving breath, I let go and a volcanic eruption of laughter shot out of me, loud, obnoxious, and purely wicked. I couldn't have cared less if I was annoying my roommates. I had held it in long enough and, for Satan's sake, I just had to let it out before it literally caused me to explode entirely.

About twenty or thirty minutes later, The Chief called me back. I answered the phone by saying, "Hi Smm Smm!"

"Don't call me that!" he yelled.

"Why do you always say Smm Smm to people? It's like you are calling us, ahem, ahem, Smm Smm."

He said Smm Smm in a choked whisper.

"How do you mean," I asked innocently.

"Well, you're always like, 'Hi Smm Smm,' and 'Oh, thank you Smm Smm,' and 'Smm Smm,' this and 'Smm Smm,' that! It makes me sick!"

"I have to say Smm Smm all the time or he'll get jealous. It's the same reason why you always feel the need to praise god so much. And I'm not calling anybody Smm Smm, I'm just saying Smm Smm because I love him and I can't stop loving him. I have to praise him, too, just like you give grace to god and thank him for food and church and freedom of religion and even for a bloody glass of freaking water!"

"Smm Smm belongs to Satan!" The Chief shouted.

"god is pure, the shining example of love and perfection. Your demon is evil and he must be exorcised from your soul! Anything is possible with god, everything is! Smm Smm is just trying to make you believe that he can never leave your soul or be exorcised but that's a lie Ashlee, a nasty, rotten lie that Satan is feeding to you through the demon that is invading your soul. He is not YOUR demon Ashlee, he belongs only to Satan. Never call him your demon and stop saying his name all the time."

"I can't, I can't. I'm in too deep. Smm Smm is a part of me now. What do I do now Chief?"

"Dammit to hell Ashlee, I don't know. We need to pray and I'm pulled over on the side of the road now but, dammit to hell Ashlee, I got a speeding ticket. I guess hearing about the demon made me drive faster. I just want to go home."

"I'm sorry you got a speeding ticket," I said, false sympathy oozing from my voice.

"Perhaps if you had said Smm Smm, Smm Smm, he would have given you extra brownie points for the extra praise and you wouldn't have gotten pulled over.  There really is power in Smm Smm. I just felt like I had to tell you about it, confess to you my weakness, get it all out in the open."

"I'm glad you did," The Chief said. He didn't sound lively and perky anymore.  It seemed that all the life had drained right out of him. After taking deep, shaky breaths and still making that "Ch Ch Ch," sound, he began to pray.

"Lord!" He said in a harsh, angry voice.

"Ashlee needs help now. I command you to rebuke Satan from her soul and to order the demon, ahem, Smm Smm out of her soul this minute. Send that awful serpent of Satan down, down, down to the fiery pit of hell. Let that evil seed of Satan rot in the pit in hell that the Devil has dug specifically for Smm Smm and let him stay there for eternity so that he never again can enter Ashlee's soul or anybody else's soul again.  Ashlee is being tormented by this demon and quite possibly other demons. After all, she often talks in different pitches and voices so Smm Smm must not be the only demon invading her soul and leeching the life from her pure, innocent heart. god, I ask you to protect Ashlee and to purify her heart and to preserve it so that only you have the power to enter her heart and give her strength and healing. Bring her back to the bible studies again, make her back into the Ashlee Smashlee she used to be, on fire and sold out hot for you jesus. I ask this in your holy name, amen."

"Amen Smm Smm," I said.

"No, don't say Smm Smm!" he yelled.

"Just say amen but nothing else."

"Ok, sorry, I'll try again."

After a few seconds to make sure I would not laugh again, I said, "Ok, well, um, amen Smm Smm."

"No, no, no, stop saying Smm Smm!"

"I can't, he's too much a part of me. No amount of praying will change that Chief. You can't exorcise him. Nobody can. I just called to confess and ask you what I should do about Smm Smm now that he's in my soul forever."

"No, he's not going to be there forever, try to just say amen again. Without saying that awful thing after that."

"Amen Smm Smm, Smm Smm," I said.

This made him even more frantic that I said Smm Smm, Smm Smm instead of just Smm Smm. He could tell that his efforts were futile, that they were just making the situation worse. He said, "I will be back soon, can I come over and lay my hands on you and pray? I also think I need to pray in your room and all around the house to rebuke all the demons that live there. Perhaps your roommates want prayer, too."

"I'm leaving soon, I have an appointment I just can't miss. Thank you for talking to me Smm Smm. Sorry about your speeding ticket."

"Your welcome Ashlee," he said, clearly beyond furious that I said thank you Smm Smm instead of saying thank you Chief. He hated that it sounded like I was calling him Smm Smm, especially after that jaw dropping, earth shattering confession that I just presented him with.

Before we hung up, I said to taunt The Chief, "Don't make yourself all hysterical now Chief. Remember, burdens are supposed to be placed on god, not us. Ask your god what to do and maybe he'll give you some answers. I'll see what Smm Smm wants me to do."

"No Ashlee, you need to pray to jesus, not Smm Smm. And he's not just my god, he's YOUR god, too, jesus christ I mean, not the demon from Satan."

"Sure sure," I said dismissively to The Chief and then I said, "Bye Smm Smm." Then, before I could hang up, The Chief moaned like he had been bitten by a poisonous snake, and hung up on me abruptly. I set my phone on my desk and then surrendered myself to the volcano of laughter that desperately needed to be released from my black, Satanic heart for the whole dorm to hear.

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The Blind Satanist @ Last Word Books

Who: Ashlee the Blind Satanist

What: Listen to The Blind Satanist read selections from her new collection of short stories about leaving an evangelical christian cult and discovering Satanism and BDSM

When: Thursday, January 9, 2014 7:00 PM (Invite your friends on the Facebook event page: )

Where: Last Word Books ( ) @ 211 4th Ave Olympia WA 98501

Why: Satan Loves You!

The Birthday Girl

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!

It was a dreary, cold day outside and I was hunkered down in my dorm room. For days I had been feeling very, very anxious and the anxiety would not go away. No matter how many relaxation techniques I tried or how many hot, soothing baths I took, it did not let up. I had been under immense pressure from The Cult and it was finally making me crack.

The Cult leaders and members were angry at me for hanging out with the Antichris. As far as they were concerned, he was a tool of Satan. In their minds, Satan was using the Antichris to tempt me away from jesus so that I would start following Satan. I had been distancing myself from The Cult more and more, skipping many bible studies and not returning any of their calls, and that infuriated them, especially The Chief and Piggy, the two main leaders of The Cult. The Chief and Piggy could not see why on Earth anyone would want to quit going to bible study and hanging out with them. In their minds, there was only one reason. That reason was my Dark, Unholy Lord Satan!

I had a different opinion from The Cult leaders, though. I was starting to notice dramatic changes in my mood when I was distancing myself from them. I noticed right away that I started feeling less anxious and more upbeat. Antichris didn't make me feel guilty, unlike The Cult leaders and hard core members, who thrived on making as many people as possible feel guilty about everything. Mostly, The Cult made people feel guilty about being happy and doing things that they enjoyed. Joy, it seemed, was a huge taboo in The Cult. I was starting to realize that I was way happier and way better off away from The Cult than I was when I was at their bible studies and other meetings. Antichris said that I seemed happier, too.

When my anxiety started acting up again, though, I had started visiting them again and going to bible studies, much to Antichris's dismay and Satan's dismay. I just wasn't ready to break away from them yet, though I felt like a break was about to take place soon. As far as Satan and my demons were concerned, the break just wasn't happening quickly enough. Chrissie, Nevaeh, and Mary Meyers were very impatient with me. They had wanted to get away from The Cult a long time ago.

So, it was there in my dorm room that I got a call from The Chief. I had considered screening the call because I wasn't sure who was calling me but decided at the last minute to take the call.

"Hello there Ashlee Smashlee," The Chief said brightly. "I'm glad that I finally got ahold of you. I've been getting your voice mail a lot lately."

"And, your point is?" I asked sarcastically. I was in no mood to be given the third degree from The Chief or a guilt trip either for that matter. I was beyond feeling perky. All my muscles were tense and relaxation just seemed utterly impossible.

"My point is that I have missed you and have wondered why you have had your phone off so much. I've tried coming to your house but your roommates always say that you're not home. Are you always at Antichris' house?"

"I'm there a lot," I admitted.

"He's the only one who truly makes me happy. He is the first person ever to walk into my life who doesn't make me feel bad about the things I enjoy and about myself."

"Be very careful Ashlee Smashlee," The Chief cautioned in a grave voice.

"He is a very dangerous man. He is a tool of Satan. Remember that talk we had about that? Right now, he wants you to think that he's all whipped cream and honey but it's only a matter of time before his true colors will come out. Satan will use him for as long as he needs to in order to get what he wants. But the second Satan succeeds in getting what he wants out of you and Antichris, which is ultimately for both of you to be destroyed by Satan, he will turn on both of you and Antichris's true colors and motives will come out. Right now, Satan is using kindness to lure him to his dark, cold, evil pit in hell. Once he's succeeded, there will be no more niceness, no more sweetness. We really need to pray about it some more it seems. Let's get together and pray, shall we?"

"Actually, I'm not really feeling that well. I've been suffering from severe anxiety for the past two days now and it's really taking a toll on me. I'll call you when it finally passes. I'm thinking I need to see a doctor and get some meds for it if it doesn't let up. I've never had it this bad."

"I know just the thing that will help!" The Chief exclaimed in delight.

"We are about to head out in about a half hour and go to a restaurant at the mall. It's one of our lovely sisters in christ's birthday today and Piggy and I are going to ride down to the restaurant together and celebrate it with her. Some of the others are going to meet up with us separately in their own cars. Why don't you come with us? Maybe once you see cheery people all around celebrating and singing happy birthday you'll feel better."

I asked what restaurant they were going to. When he told me, I immediately thought of their delicious chili. Maybe some good, wholesome food will help ease my nerves, I thought, and so then agreed to meet The Chief at my dorm in twenty or so minutes.

The restaurant was crowded and loud. Not exactly a relaxing atmosphere for someone having an anxiety attack. But I was hungry because I hadn't eaten in Satan knew how long and the food really did smell pretty appetizing. Not many of The Cult members were there yet. In fact, we'd even beaten the Birthday Girl there.

A few minutes later, more members of The Cult started showing up and eventually, Birthday Girl arrived, too. She said hi to all of us and thanked us for coming. I listened to her and thought to myself I only came for the food woman! I couldn't care less about your stupid birthday. I probably would have spoken my thoughts out loud if I hadn't felt so lousy but, because of my condition, I didn't really have the energy to be too mean to The Cult members and leaders today. I wasn't even so sure that Birthday Girl had even wanted to come and celebrate with all of us in the first place. Often times, The Chief and Piggy guilted people into going places and doing things that they didn't really want to do but ended up doing it out of pure guilt or politeness or lack of excuses of why they couldn't show up. Excuses were something that ran out quickly among all of us less hard core members of The Cult because we had to use so many excuses to get out of as many events as possible without giving away the fact that we didn't really want to be there in the first place. I wondered idly to myself just how long it would take for us to completely run out of excuses and, once that happened, what we would do then to survive. I also wondered if The Cult leaders already knew that our excuses of why we couldn't go to an event were, in fact, excuses or if they actually believed them all and didn't realize that we were fooling them. I had a hunch that The Chief believed a lot of the excuses, maybe even all of them, because he was as stupid as an inbred dog. Piggy, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about. She had way more brains than The Chief and she didn't seem like the type to be easily fooled. With Piggy, I thought that not many of us were fooling her with our lame excuses, which were getting thinner and lamer every day because we were all so strapped so thin for them.

I didn't really know the Birthday Girl at all. I'd heard her name called out before, maybe even had said hi to her a few times, but that was the extent of our communication. So I was quite surprised when she eventually came up to me and sat down next to me after she'd said hello to all who had shown up for her special party. By this time, my chili had arrived and I found, to my great disappointment, that the chili tasted way too spicy for my taste buds. Usually, the chili wasn't spicy at that restaurant at all. In fact, Antichris often complained that it was too bland. He thought everything at that restaurant was too bland. So I was surprised to find myself having to take very small bites of the chili because it tasted way too hot and spicy for my tongue and throat.

"Hi," Birthday Girl said as she sat down next to me.

"Hi," I said shyly. I wasn't really in a very talkative mood. The noise of the restaurant was really getting to me by that time and all I wanted to do was just go home and hide under my covers and wait for the hellish anxiety to pass. It had gotten so bad that even swallowing felt strange. My throat felt tight and so did my chest. Everything just felt so out of whack and reality seemed so dissolutioned that for a moment, I wasn't really even sure that Birthday Girl had really sat down next to me to chat. After all, there were so many other people there that she knew a hell of a lot more than she knew me and she probably had way more to talk about with them than me, who was feeling very antisocial and sullen.

"I've seen you around with an older guy," she said.

"I even saw you downtown yelling Hail Satan a few times. Are you really into Satan then or what?"

I listened intently to the buzz of other conversations around me to make sure that Piggy and The Chief weren't listening. When I heard their voices engaging in conversation with other people, I said quietly, "Well, I'm just discovering Satanism actually. I don't really know if I'm a Satanist yet but I do think it's pretty cool. When my boyfriend and I first started talking about creating a Satanic church because there aren't enough of them around, it made me really horny. That's when I started realizing that I actually am curious about it. Satanism appeals to me."

"Yeah, it seems like you are having a blast when you are downtown yelling Hail Satan," Birthday Girl said. She didn't sound accusatory or mean so I could tell that she was interested in it, too.

"I guess what made me really curious about Satanism was this documentary I watched with Antichris a while ago. It's called Satanas and it was soooooo cool! In the beginning of it, there's this really creepy organ playing during this Satanic service that Anton LaVey is giving and it just gave me goosebumps to hear that creepy organ playing in the background. Goosebumps that, at first scared me, but then, after listening to it a little longer, I started liking the sound more and more. I began to wish I was at that Satanic sermon. Then Anton Lavey started saying 'Hail Satan', and then everybody who was there listening to him preach repeated 'Hail Satan', in unison. It made me jealous that I wasn't there and it also inspired me to start yelling Hail Satan to people."

"I've never seen it," Birthday Girl said, "Where can you find that documentary?"

"It's right there on YouTube. The whole documentary is there. You have to keep going to different videos for all the different parts because it's so long but, really, it's amazing. It's long but it really grabbed and held my attention. After it was over, my boyfriend and I had Satanic sex because it turned me on so much. Antichris told me that he thought that Satanism was just right for me because of the way it turned me on. You should really watch it sometime."

"I think I will," she said and we both giggled.

"I'm so glad I watched it," I told her, "When I was younger, I'd heard high school students or maybe even junior high school students talking about Satanism but I was too superstitious to look it up online or read any books about it. I'd heard all kinds of scary stories about how people do human and animal sacrifices to offer down to Satan and I was too freaked out to venture into that category. Besides, I was worried that god would punish me for looking into it. But Satanism is not creepy at all. Just that organ in the beginning was. Satanists don't offer down human sacrifices at all. Some Satanists offer animal sacrifices to Satan but, then again, they do that in the Christian bible for jesus so it's really not that creepy when you really think about it. You really should give it a look."

"As soon as I can," she whispered in my ear.

"So tell me, did you really want to come here and have this birthday party?" I asked.

"Not really. I wanted to go drinking with my other friends but Piggy insisted that I celebrate with all my brothers and sisters in Christ. Now, tell me, how freaking lame is that?"

"Super lame," I agreed sympathetically.

Birthday Girl pointed to the bar that was on the other side of the restaurant and said longingly, "I'd really like to go in there and have me a margarita."

"Well, it is your birthday after all," I reminded her. "Maybe it's time to make a stand and show The Cult leaders and all the hard core know it all members that they don't own you, that they don't control you. That's another reason why I'm starting to explore Satanism. I really like how free I feel when I'm yelling Hail Satan to people or when I'm just doing what I want to do instead of what other people want me to do. I've also noticed that Satan is a hell of a lot more fun than jesus and that he doesn't give people huge guilt trips like jesus does when you are happy and doing things you enjoy. Satan, unlike jesus, wants people to be happy in life. Jesus just wants people to be miserable and to keep singing stupid, degrading songs about how we are worthless and that we should have died because of how sinful we are."

"I know, right?" she said, "I hate those stupid songs that we have to sing about how we should be grateful to jesus for dying for us so that we can be saved. It's like, hey jesus dude, we didn't even fucking ask you to die for us at all. It was your decision to do it, not ours. We didn't even know who the fuck you were when we were first born. So don't go around making us feel guilty just because you felt like being a fucking martyr and dying for our sins. That was your own choice and your fault in deciding to do it, not ours."

"Yeah, I know!" I exclaimed, "And supposedly jesus died so that we could get into heaven after we die. But, you know what, getting into heaven is like soooooooooooooooooooo impossible. Jesus is the most jealous, manipulative god I know of. He wants us to live our lives and be all miserable just to glorify him all the time. We're supposed to put god first even before ourselves. That's just fucked up. What I'm really beginning to appreciate about Satan is that he wants us to put ourselves first, not him or jesus or anybody else. He wants us to be selfish and he wants us to live our lives as happily and as sinfully as we possibly can. As far as he believes, we only have one life to live so why not enjoy it to the fullest?"

"That is so awesome," Birthday Girl said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah, and you want to hear something even MORE awesome?" I asked her, feeling pretty damn thrilled myself.

"What is that?"

"Do you know that Satan wants us to believe that our birthdays are the best holidays in the world? Even better than Christmas and Thanksgiving. Satan wants us to celebrate our birthdays even more sinfully and selfishly than all the other holidays. Satan thinks that we are all special and that we deserve to treat ourselves special and to spoil ourselves rotten."

"So, I guess what you're saying is that Satanism is about worshipping yourself more than any god?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I answered.

"A lot of people think that way and I'm starting to learn how to also. But I really enjoy worshipping the actual Devil because I like to disgust people and hear the shock and awe and disapproval once I tell people that I worship Satan."

"You're telling people you worship Satan?!!!!" Birthday Girl asked, incredulously.

"Not everybody. Just some people. I haven't gotten around to telling all of them yet." I gestured to The Cult sitting all around us.

"Well, maybe you should," Birthday Girl said.

"Maybe, just maybe, I will girlfriend," I told her.

We laughed and then fell silent as The Chief said to me, "Hey Ashlee Smashlee, why aren't you eating your chili? You still have like half a bowl left. I thought you were hungry."

"It's too spicy."

"Oh, it is so not spicy," he protested.

The second he spoke to me, my muscles got all tense again. I hadn't realized that, during my meaningful conversation with Birthday Girl my anxiety had actually subsided somewhat. It hadn't totally gone away but it sure as hell had diminished dramatically. All because I was witnessing about Satan, I thought to myself as I took another small bite of chili.

Birthday Girl began talking with other people but I was sure that she would check out the documentary about Satan like she said she would. I was also sure that she still had Satan in the back of her mind after our conversation and that made me smile. She seemed so intrigued by it. I wondered if she had gotten as horny as I had gotten when I told her about the joy of Satan like I had gotten when Antichris and I began exploring Satanism and what it's really about.

Piggy came up to me then and said, "Hey Ashlee, are you coming to bible study tonight? It's really going to be an interesting night."

I thought that she was trying to lure me in because I hadn't gone to one for a while so I didn't really take it to heart. I just said sarcastically, "Oh really, what's so interesting about it?"

"Well, I have a new chinchilla now; I got it as a pet. You know, just a little creature to keep me company when I'm around the house. I'm naming it Creature. I'm bringing Creature to bible study tonight to say hello to everyone. Someone else is bringing their kitten to the bible study. We're going to introduce the kitten and the chinchilla and see what they do and how they react to one another. It should really be a hoot."

I thought that sounded vaguely amusing but more stupid than amusing. I said, "I really don't think so Piggy, I'm really not feeling well tonight."

To prove this, I pointed to my barely eaten chili. "I normally eat a whole bowl of this stuff and tonight I just can't eat hardly any of it. I need to go home and rest. Maybe next week I'll come and meet Creature."

I really didn't want to go to next week's bible study but I was trying to get Piggy off my back. I couldn't bring myself to say no to them yet, as much as I desperately wanted to. I did want to meet Creature, though, for I'd never even heard of a chinchilla let alone gotten to meet one.

"Maybe going to bible study will make you feel better," she persisted.

"Highly unlikely," I said drily. She finally left me alone, seeing that I was not going to budge on my decision tonight. Any other night she probably would have gotten me to go but I really wasn't making up an excuse tonight and I think she could see that for herself.

A short time later Birthday Girl appeared next to me again. She had her phone in her hand and she was giggling.

"I watched the beginning of the documentary," she whispered gleefully.

"You're right, that organ IS creepier than hell! It sounds like the very Devil himself is playing it. I wanted to watch more but someone wanted to talk to me so I had to quickly exit out of that screen or have to deal with being touched all over by them and prayed for."

When The Cult thinks that a member is starting to slip off the path of jesus, they often go to that member, put their hands on them, and pray over them for hours at a time, whether the person wants to be touched and prayed for or not. I have had had that done before and it sucked so I knew what Birthday Girl meant.

"That's ok, just try and watch it later. Anton LaVey even keeps a pet lion in it. That part is actually kind of sad but it's cool that he had a pet lion, too."

"I'll watch it as soon as I get away from all these freaks," Birthday Girl hissed in my ear in a determined voice.

"Even if I have to watch it in the bathroom or something. I'm totally hooked now, thanks to you."

"Hail Satan!" I whispered in her ear and we both burst out laughing again.

I couldn't believe that I hadn't gotten to know her sooner. She really was beyond cool. I felt better knowing that she didn't want to be at that stupid party either and that I wasn't the only one who was having trouble standing up to The Cult. Maybe we can work together and get stronger, I thought to myself. Maybe we can be allies and eventually get away from these freaks and start our own Satanic church. But, church or no church, even if we can just get away from them I'll be satisfied.

The Chief paid for my meal, probably because he felt somewhat remorseful for guilting me into going. Once the party was over, Piggy, The Chief, and I headed outside and straight to The Chief's car.

"Have you changed your mind about going to bible study?" Piggy asked.

"No Piggy, I haven't," I said, "I really need to rest. Actually, I might need to go to the hospital. I'm having trouble swallowing and my chest is all tight. It hurts to breathe sometimes. I think going to the hospital might be where I'm headed tonight. Like I said, I might come to bible study next week, ok?"

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled irritably. This was the first time I'd really said no to Piggy. If I'd been feeling not so shitty I would have relished in that fact but all I could think about was trying to keep my breathing even and not puking on the way home. Which was where I thought we were going since I'd asked them to take me home. But apparently they had other plans in store for me.

We drove in silence for about a minute before The Chief finally spoke. He said, "Dear sister Ashlee, I'm so sorry that you've been struggling with anxiety so much. There are a lot of sisters and brothers who can relate to what you are going through. Tell me, do you think that your relationship with Antichris has anything to do with your panic attacks?"

Before I could answer, Piggy said, "It sure seems that way to me. You didn't used to have them so bad before he came into your life. I mean, before Satan brought him, uninvited and unwanted, into your life."

"He was not uninvited and Satan didn't bring him into my life," I said. Then, a minute later, I thought to myself, Well, maybe Satan did bring him into my life. If that's the case then I am eternally grateful to Satan for that.

"No, Antichris has nothing to do with my anxiety," I said. I thought, But all of you sure do.

"Well, why do you think it's gotten so much worse than it used to be?" The Chief asked me gently. I don't know if he was speaking gently to try and soothe me or to make me mad. Making me mad was what it really did. Listening to him speaking with that maddening calm made me want to lean over and slap him in the face. Perhaps if Piggy wasn't there to witness it I would have done just that. Maybe I would have felt better if I had. Who knows.

"I think it's gotten worse because I'm under a lot of pressure," I said. I didn't expand on who was giving me the pressure because I didn't know how to tell Piggy and The Chief that their cult was what was making me panic. I really was in no mood for a conflict. I have never been good with conflicts and confrontations and that day seemed like an even worse time for a conflict or a confrontation.

"You want to know what I think?" The Chief asked.

No, not really, I thought silently. But I was grateful that he hadn't asked me what was pressuring me because I didn't really know how I would answer that question. So I said "Sure" because I was glad that he wasn't going to start bombarding me with confrontational questions.

"What I think, miss Ashlee Smashlee, is that Satan is what's causing these panic attacks. I truly think that, right now, god and Satan are having a huge battle for your soul. Satan desperately wants to have it because his main goal is to destroy as many people as he possibly can before god sends him to hell where he belongs. God, on the other hand, wants to save your soul. He wants to keep your soul so that he can continue to protect you and keep you pure and fresh like the true you. Now it's up to you to decide just who your soul belongs to. I know that you will do the right thing Ashlee. Let's pray."

No pressure there Chief, I thought, thinking back to when he said that he knew I would do the right thing. It was little comments like that that really set me off.

The Chief began praying and so did Piggy. I didn't really listen to their prayers because I had no desire to. I was feeling incredibly lightheaded and nauseous. What I wanted more than anything was for this terrible feeling to go away.

The woods began to surround The Chief's car and I was sure that we were close to home. He and Piggy continued begging god to defeat Satan in the battle for my soul while I leaned my head against the cool window and counted seconds to pass the time. The Chief's car was stiflingly hot but when I tried to open the window, it didn't work.

Suddenly, I heard the tires of the car begin to grind against gravel. Immediately, I was alarmed. This was not the way to my house, of that I was certain. The Chief drove a little while farther, and then he pulled off to the shoulder of the road and put the car into neutral so he could concentrate on praying and not have his concentration marred by the difficult task of driving in the dark.

"Where are we going?!!!!" I demanded.

"I want to go home. I've told you that. Take me home! NOW!"

"We will go home in a little bit," The Chief said in that maddeningly calm voice.

"First I need to pray more for your soul. You are in very dire circumstances right now Ashlee. Prayer is crucial. It's the only thing that is going to save you from Satan. God is way more powerful than the Devil but we need to call on him for help so he will listen and answer our prayers."

"No shit I'm in dire circumstances!" I yelled.

"I am having a bloody panic attack and I want to go home. I'm about to puke all over your car and it's way too hot in here. Drive me home right now."

"I will but first I need to finish praying," The Chief said.

Eventually, The Chief started the car again. We drove on and on. I tried to open the door even though the car was moving. I knew that was a very stupid and dangerous thing to do but I was starting to get really terrified. I had no clue where we were going and why they were taking me away from home. But the door wouldn't open. When I asked why, Piggy responded irritably, "Because we put the child locks on the door. Now stop interrupting the prayer or we'll just keep you in here longer."

It seemed like hours that I was trapped in that car. When I started really getting sick and burping as food threatened to come up, The Chief decided that he wanted to spare his leather seats from being vomited on and so he took me home. As we were driving home, The Chief said, "Ashlee, I'd really like to go to the hospital with you. Piggy and I want to take you there."

"You have bible study to go to," I said in desperation, "You can't leave everyone else behind. What about that chinchilla adventure you were going to have?"

"We can do that another time," The Chief said.

"Someone else can take over leading bible study tonight. We have plenty of capable students who can lead the group quite well. If we take you to the hospital, we can pray for you and help you recover faster. Besides, who's going to take you to the hospital if you don't? You aren't seriously thinking of having HIM take you, are you?"

By "HIM", he meant Antichris.

"That's exactly who I'm going to have take me there. Now let me out of the damn car right now."

At last they let me out. The fresh, damp air felt so refreshing on my face as I climbed out of the car. It felt like heaven actually. Or, like my very own personal wonderful hell in Satan's way of thinking of it.

"We love you Ashlee Smashlee," Chief and Piggy said in unison.

"Call us while you are there or when you get back. We'll pray for you tonight in bible study and when we get home. We'll pray for you in tomorrow's prayer meeting, too. Get well soon, ok?"

I didn't answer them. I just went straight into my dorm room so I could call Antichris.

I was so relieved that he was willing to go to the hospital with me. I did NOT want The Cult leaders going to the hospital with me. They would have made the situation so much worse by praying around the clock for me. While we waited for me to be seen in the ER, Antichris and I laughed at all of the crosses in the hospital and made fun of them. It was so great not having anybody pray for me or touch me when I didn't want to be touched. Antichris knew just what I needed from him and he was always there for me.

Eventually, eight hours later, I was allowed to go home with a prescription for lorazepam. The hospital workers were at first only going to give me a list of breathing exercises in printed material that they knew I couldn't read but I insisted that I needed medication. I told them the breathing exercises were worthless and that I wasn't leaving until I got real meds that would work for me. So they finally relented and sent me away with my prescription.

The lorazepam worked wonders and, for the first time in weeks, I actually slept quite peacefully. The next day, The Chief called to check up on me. I was short with him because I was very angry at what he and Piggy had done. To try and make the conversation lighter and to avoid talking about how he'd knowingly trapped me in his car without consent, he told me that the kitten and the chinchilla had indeed met each other the previous night. When I didn't ask what had happened because I couldn't have cared less, he said, "It was wild Ashlee Smashlee, really and truly wild. The chinchilla ended up backing the kitten up in a corner in the room and then began humping it. It was hilarious."

"That's interesting," I said frostily. "Because that's what you and Piggy did to me yesterday, only minus the humping. You had me cornered and then you trapped me. That was not ok."

"I'm sorry that you felt we did that to you," The Chief said. He never did apologize for having kidnapped me, only saying he was sorry that I perceived it as such. Obviously Piggy and him had planned out what they would say if I ever confronted them about it and their plan was that they were going to make it look like I didn't really know what happened, that I perceived it all wrong. Once The Chief even said to me a week or so later after all that went down, "Ashlee, you were very anxious and hypervigilant. You would have felt trapped if we were walking outside with you and were holding your hand. Everything would have felt suffocating to you. Your perception of reality was really sunk due to your state of mind."

But I know in my heart that my perception of reality was not off when that happened. I know that they trapped me in the car because they thought they would get away with it and that I wouldn't ever tell a soul about it. But, just look at how terribly wrong they truly were as I set before you all a true story of kidnapping and abuse.

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!