Lonna Jackson claims to be praying for the Kingston critics in Broken Springs, but is she praying to the appropriate deity?
This Thursday, over black coffee and donuts at Haybreak Café in downtown Broken Springs, God Almighty met up with Kingston to rebuke him for all of his moral failings. One of our informants overheard the entire conversation, and scribbled the following on a breakfast napkin.
“Listen,” said the Lord as he sipped Folgers from a cup plastered with local advertising, “I wouldn’t mind your followers occasionally bringing up My name if you were half the man you claimed to be.”
“I give to the needy,” said the Chief as he chomped on a piece of burnt bacon from the plate of the table‘s last occupants.
“So did Al Capone,” said the Creator of the Universe. “But this Holier Than Thou mumbo jumbo has to go. That’s the first thing I learned as God. Those who claim to pray for other people really should be praying for themselves.”
“But I genuinely care for those broke sorry SOBs who can’t afford to go to the casino,” claimed Kingston as he watched the waitress bend over to pick up a napkin.
“Listen, Jim,” explained God, in his best kindergarten teacher voice. “You’re not the worst Chief Broken Springs could have. I think even your detractors realize that. However, there is still a lot of room for improvement. For instance, those people over there…” God pointed to a black family sitting in the booth by the window. “Those people are African Americans, not nig… ahem, what an ugly word. I can’t even bring myself to say it. Nobody uses it anymore, Jim, except for bigots and Klansmen.”
“African Americans,” the Chief said slowly, as if learning a new word.
“Better. And giving kids toys at Christmas isn’t enough. Genuine care and concern should happen year round, which is why I think your charity, once legal, ought to be renamed Kingston’s Kare and operated twelve months a year. That way you aren’t leaving out the Jews, Muslims, and Atheists, who sometimes need just as much care as Christians.”
“I see,” said Jim as he wiped jelly from his upper lip. “But do you really think it’s such a good idea for Christianity to be so inclusive?”
“I used to agree until my Son showed me the err of my ways. We have to be inclusive, otherwise public sentiment will turn against us, just like it’s turning against you. Always remember Jim,” advised the Deity, “You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.” He poured maple syrup over his pancakes and continued, “My old friend Lucifer preferred being a big ant on a little hill, just like so many here in Broken Springs, but you see where it got him.”
“Point taken,” said Kingston, as he tugged on the waitress and asked for a refill of coffee.
“So no more eavesdropping with illegal listening devices, okay? No more racism or sexism, or illegal searches. No more deception. No more hypocrisy. No more profanity or…“ God paused as He saw Kingston wink at the waitress. “No more of that there, either. Just remember what John and Paul said.”
“The Apostles?”
“No, the Beatles. All you need is love, but don‘t go all Clinton on me, okay?“ The Lord smeared jelly on his toast. “So will you take my advice?”
“I’m always open to suggestions,” responded the Chief
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