A Sermon to Anyone That'll Listen
Ethan begins to speak, “These silly people, they believe in sky daddies and fairy tales, the things that have no proof or measure: how dare they offend my modern intellectual sensibilities! Such sensibilities are derived from fact, can be replicated, and will be studied relentlessly; in science, we even leave room for our positions to be readjusted! Over two thousand years spent at worship, and those charlatans haven’t updated the Bible once. This makes me wonder – what does Bible study even mean?
“Harumph!
“The worst of them is Ian. He must have something to do with this; he is always out to get me. It would be in his best interest to see me utterly crestfallen. I will not allow it! In fact, I could practically hear the smile stretch across his face during my tribulation, and it irks me to admit I was truly grieved. How could I not be?
“Should there be anyone that could stand unscathed under the scrutiny of a dozen zealots, I would shake their hand with elation and swear an oath of devotion! I am not worthy of such veneration, but there is a caliber of man that exists who are, and these fellows could certainly withstand Christian dialectics without buckling!
“‘Ethan, it’s just a movie,’ they told me, ‘demonology is canon inside of Catholicism,’ they pressed further. There is no excuse for a film to have a plot based in a world where Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior, is an objective truth with power over demons; it is sloppy writing at best and an overt attack on non-Christians at worst. Hollywood is rampant with these evangelical types; Mel Brooks, Jeffery Katzenberg, Anatole Litvak, innumerable! Should you turn over a stone on Hollywood Boulevard, a dozen of them would go skittering into the darkness of their churches! These films masquerade as horror, but I know the truth: they are dressed-up pulp for sermonizing; a vehicle for the Ed and Lorraine Warrens of the world to spew falsehoods!
“Those who I have known since I was a boy have even turned away from me. If I were to humor this fantasy worldview for a moment, it would be Ian wielding the Seal of Solomon, arresting the spirits of my friends into a submissive allegiance. It is Ian who needs to be exorcized! Yes, Ian is the one who needs to be dealt with.
“But how, you might ask me, he’s well over six feet tall, and weighs two-hundred-forty pounds, and looking upon me, you’ll notice that I’m five-foot five inches and likely weigh half of what he does, but trust, I have considered it for a week now, and the answer is very clear.
“I have his home address from a few years ago, when he was manufacturing stickers and postcards, so I’ll find my way there and request a meeting with him in earnest, only my fingers will be crossed behind my back, you see. Once I’ve obtained his counsel and we are alone, I will wait for him to look away, and then. . .”
The Indian man behind the counter at Main Street Market watches with a dull expression as Ethan smacks a Stone IPA bottle into his sweaty palm with a wet plap, but just once isn’t enough for Ethan, so he winds back up for another, and another, and soon he was grunting animalistically, his entire body slick with perspiration.
“How do you like that! And another! And another one for good measure!”
Perhaps the American Dream is, in fact, dead, the Indian cashier considered as he regarded Ethan with complete disinterest. He’d reckoned this twink wasn’t an imminent threat, and he could already see the ten-dollar bill, which he’d eventually exchange for the beverage, dangling out of his shirt pocket. It was best to let him get his psychosexual meltdown out of his system before reminding him of the amount due.
However, monologues like this happened far too regularly, often leaving the man from Mumbai considering repatriation. Who knows what that process would even look like, not to mention the cost of defaulting on the building lease if he couldn’t find an assignee, or the potential hit he’d take if the assignee had no interest in a convenience store. In that case, he’d just have to bend over and sell everything at a loss and then return home, failed.
Ethan stopped slapping the bottle into his palm.
"Surely, sir. Your total is $5.30," he said to Ethan.
“You thought I was done, sneak attack!” Ethan continued.

Comments
Post a Comment