Smackdown Satan

“You shall not misuse the name of the Lord by calling him “Fake News Mercy God”, Lucifer. Just because God won’t give WWF wrestler Bam, Bam Bigelow his angel wings, despite you having a soft spot for flaming bear wrestlers in tights.” Arch Angel of Heaven, Michael says. Lucifer fires back with, “Michael means “Who is like God.” You mean another micromanager control freak. I give humans the permission to exercise free will in the service of pleasing themselves. That makes me the good life giver, not God, Michael.” Michael says, “You don’t get to be the ears of Lucifer, I do.” Lucifer says, “Don’t think for a second, I want to trade winged tipped shoes with you Michael. Your name Michael means who is like God. You mean another micromanager square who won’t give Bam, Bam Bigelow his angel wings because he considers drug overdoses a form of subconscious suicide. Your name Michael means who is like God, but what it really means is sloppy second spokesperson after Moses. And if Moses really knew God face to face, then why didn’t he prophesize about the condemnation of goatees on metal rappers during Woodstock 94, before the entire shit show went up in flames?  But that’s what happens when Jewel is considered a seat stayer middling act before Limp Bizkit gave Carson Daily sustained stiffage until Kid Rock’s performance blew everyone away in college bliss paradise.” Michael says, “Why am I hearing a new rumor around Heaven about you being the voice behind the Burning Bush Lucifer? You’d literally piss on Moses’s grave if you knew where to find it. And you wonder why God makes you feel like the sloppy second son, brother.” Lucifer says, “I was the voice behind the Burning Bush. It was a prank I learned at Angel Magic Camp. I enjoy hearing Moses stutter like the kid in Billy Madison. But Moses didn’t shatter his teeth from stuttering after I spoke to him through the Burning Bush as expected. At the same time, Moses stumbling to articulate more excuses to turn down God’s job offer was hilarious. “Whiny Jews chosen to complain about not receiving immediate recognized sit-down service at restaurants in Del Ray Beach won’t take me seriously as your chosen your spokesperson Lord. It’s not as simple as Joan Rivers hocking jewelry to Midwest housewives she detested on the QVC. I project less than Kamala Harris in the lock jaw love position. The Jewish elders won’t believe we possess the power to wrestle our Jewish brothers and sisters away from the arms of slavery, despite our God given ability to hondle better than an Egyptian. Jews are slaves to poor taste in the form of bankrolling overrated musicals like Hamilton, which sounds more awkward forced than Don Lemon rapping to Obama on his birthday with a generic, hip flavored, Shakesperian accent.  Why would Pharoah release our people from Slavery? What form of leverage do we have to offer our Lord besides the threat of my cousin Schlonka boring Pharoh to death through her mustard making workshop seminar at local JCC?” Michael, says, “Remember when God said to Mosses, God’s favorite prophet on Ranker and on Quora, last I time I checked, “You shall have no other God’s before me”, little brother? Well, that includes your Olympian size ego that rivals Obama Be Good. Who I’m sure doesn’t pleasure himself in front of the mirror naked the way you do.” Lucifer says, “That’s because Obama isn’t circumcised. I can’t get aroused by the ant eater look either.” Michael says, “Future Talmudic scholars will amplify God’s commandments in relation to you little brow when stating, “You shall not suck off the totality of your own awesomeness and refrain from stroking off what elongated love you provide the universe without 1st giving shout out props to the all mighty for endowing you with such special equipment to become a star powered lighter upper with 1st.”  Lucifer says, “But similar to Jeffery Bruckheimer, God’s not the only big swinging dick in the producer business Michael. Tell that to Brian Grazer at Imagine Entertainment or to Mark Wahlberg, who’s the executive producer of Entourage for Christ’s sake.”

Michael says, “And you wonder why God never speaks directly to you anymore, just grumbling to his assistant Joshua in the background whenever you call on his birthday again or bother to text Shana Tova and wish him a happy Jewish new year.” Lucifer says, “Communication is a 2-way street brother. And if I do hear from our holy father, it’s because he’s dictating another business memo to his cherished assistant Joshua, the temp who could transcribe all the sketched in stone commandments without complaining about surging case of carpel tunnel syndrome development in the making. The last business memo Dad sent me was called, “Life Giver God”. The all mighty called me a bigger a plus narcissist than Kayne West for claiming I could come up with better logo designs for my own line of winged, high tops sneakers like the one with a space shuttle in the form of a dragon called Rarefied Air Lucifer’s.” Michael says, “We get it Lucifer, you want to feel like God’s gift to the universe 24/7 but forget angel wing promoting power, that’s far outside of your pay grade brother. Granted, Bam, Bam Bigelow was a phenomenal wrester for his size, who power slammed his opponents into the mat with forceful funk authority like a more feral Junk Yard Dog, cranked up on Crystal Meth despite swallowing a cauldron of Hooter’s hot wings. Still, you don’t get to draft your own team of archnemesis angels.  So, stop acting as if your Dr. Jerry Buss in Winning Time on HBO who was anointed with savior type status for the city of angles, with the deep pockets to match. At least Kayne made money enough money off his artistry to justify his ego enlargement therapy sessions on wax for Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella records. Have you even had a real job Lucifer?  And playing the role of a freelance fortune teller writer doesn’t count, especially when you couldn’t even sell your own brand of weed oil pens to a Chinese Restaurant weed dispensary in Oak town, Dragon Lungs Incorporated, despite Snoop Dog’s endorsement on it. Maybe, our father in Heaven decided it was time for divine intervention again and appeared in a puff of bong smoke when Cyprus Hills was in town refusing to socially distance from Mary Jane for more than 2 seconds at a time and freaked out the owner of Dragon Lungs Incorporated, the moment he started making damning Snoop Dog jokes. Have you tried Snoop Dog’s new wine yet? According to Wine Advocate, “It tastes like mouth wash used in porn hood hell.”  Lucifer says, “Enough talk. I challenge you to a Ladder match in Heaven to wrestle away your precious favored angel status from Dad.” Problem is you don’t know how to fight do you, Michael? Michael says, “Unlike you Lucifer, I have friends in high places, to end your endless smack talking about Big Mouth Moses for good.”

A winged, Macho Man Savage launches into his famed elbow drop from way up high in the Heavens on top of Lucifer’s head while God from above bellows, “Oh yeah”. God adds, “You want to be my ears now Lucifer you got it.” Next, a winged Super Fly Jimmy Snuka comes flying down off a golden ladder tall as the World Trade Center with a coconut in hand that smashes into 2 as it comes crashing down on Lucifer’s rapidly rupturing head.” Then, a winged Owen Hart, swoops in to unleash a dropkick that smacks Lucifer into Hell, to deliver justice for all, especially in honor of Moses, Abraham and David who earned the plethora of good man shout outs in the Torah for a reason. Michael gives a bunch of ariel high fives to his new angel brothers in arms, Macho Man, Super Fly and Owen Hart, all highflyers till the end of time and says, “Slim Jim’s on me” as Flying High by Ozzy Osbourne blares on God’s decked out gold plated surround sound speakers as guitar God Randy Rhodes puts on a one man show for all WWF angels including the female wrestler China in attendance despite Lucifer talking her into doing that sex tape Back Door To Chyna in addition to her subconscious suicide from pills and booze. Even God, is a softy for female body builders and gave her angel wings because she already shouldered the responsibility of being the 1st major WWE female wrestler star to break in the big, in the “attitude era”, while becoming the only female wrestler to win the Intercontinental Belt Championship, let alone beat Triple H and high flying, metal howler Chris Jericho. Besides, who else is going to break balls about Macho Man’s steroid size nuts in Heaven with such divine powered authority. “Hey, Randy, can I be your new Miss Elizbeth in heaven? I know, your balls filled a missing person report ages ago, but are they still big enough to take on the Chyna challenge, which is drilling my hole into China for shits and giggles for Big Trouble in Back Door Chyna Part 2.” Macho Man screams, “Hell yeah. Then again, power slams are more up Bam, Bam, Bigelow’s alley.”

Michael Kornbluth

Do It All Dads Buy Dolls They’d Do

If my son played with his sister’s fully naked Ken Doll, I’d tell him to wrap Ken’s peckerwood with seaweed, before taking a midnight dip into Polynesian Barbie.  I wish the WWE made the Charlotte Flair action figure fuller on top like she is in real life because Do It All Dad’s buy dolls they’d do. Buying my son, a Ronda Rousey action figure offers zero appeal to me because I don’t see my son choking one out on her behalf either.

Michael Kornbluth