In my neighborhood #22

In my neighborhood #22
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

The HOA sponsored an Easter celebration for the neighborhood kids. And Easter egg hunt was had. Candy (no brown M&Ms) was handed out and Henry Rollins was in the Easter bunny suit for pictures and entertainment for the kids.
I was done handing out candy and potato plastic Easter baskets so I decided to sit on a bench by the playground equipment.
“hey John you really a reverend?” I turned to see Eminem sitting next to me.
“Yes Marshall I am”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure what about.”
“I have been having anger issues and I have been in the dumps lately. Do you think there is really a god?”
“Yes I know there is because he speaks to me everyday. What has that got to do with your anger and depression?”
“I just want to know if there is really a reason for it all. You know what I mean?”
Just then Henry starts flopping on the ground in front of the kids. He looks like a fish until he starts yelling about grenades and the kids start throwing the hard boiled eggs at him.
He starts talking about his arms and legs being blow’d off. Some of the kids stop giggling and start to look frightened.
Henry starts to lecture the wee tikes about the evil of wars.
“Hey Henry” Eminem yells. “Give it a rest, you’re starting to scare the kids.”
Henry looks at us. “But…” Just then some entourage member of Eminem’s stepped toward Henry.
“Yeah you’re right Em, We should be just celebrating the rise of commercial religion and the monsters that consumerism has breeds.”
Eminem throws an egg at Henry maybe a little too hard and the egg bounces off the left side of Rollins’ head. He yelps and the kids start to giggle and throw the eggs at Rollins a bit harder now, but he plays along acting now like a rabbit, then a duck, and then a rabbit again.
“Marshall what were you saying about being worth it?”
“No,” he says looking straight at me to make the point of the seriousness. “it is worth it but is there a reason for it all. I mean I work hard to write these deep meaning lyrics and the only thing that gets play is the same bubble gum crap. I try to educate the fan base but they all just act like sheep. Why? What is the reason for the fire in me to write real shit and he only thing that gets noticed is me riffing on the stupidity of it all and the insults I make towards other famous people.”
“What has this got to do with god?” I ask.
“Well if there is a god like you say and he has a purpose for me and I am fulfilling that purpose, then why do I still feel so empty and angry all the time?”
“Why are my real songs being ignored, why does it depress me about the shady, stealing shifty, fuckers that have latched on to me like a leeches.” He paused looking out over the small crowd of children.
The pause was so long that I thought he was done. And then he restarted
“If there was a god he would make my other stuff noticed and keep the suckers off my back. Right?”
“Well actually no.” I said already sorry for the answer before I could finish. “See the lord gave us all free will and so he can not make other people like your truer songs.”
“You are fulfilling your purpose. It seems that gods plan for you is to be a father better than your father, a performer that entertains and educates, and a voice for the many that are suffering poverty.”
“You are doing all these things. You should be happy and feel fulfilled.
“But I am not.” He sighed visibly frustrated.
“Then I would say you are guilty of something.” I said rather Harsly but he is a man he can handle the truth.
“Now it is my experience that if one is doing what one loves to do, then that person is happy, but if that person is not happy then they are guilty of something and in your case it would be your success.”
“What why would I be guilty of my success?” He said puzzled.
“You do not feel you are worth the admiration and accolades that are thrusted upon you. You feel that somewhere there was a point that you should have failed and stayed PWT. But here you are old fat and rich. You grew up fighting for everything and now everything is handed to you and you have all this fight left and no real channel for the energy.” I paused for this to sink in a bit.
“Dude, accept that you are successful, that you are old, you are fat, and you are rich. Accept that you have become all that you despised when you were young and relish in the fact that you can make positive changes in other people’s lives.”
“Is that why Henry is so happy?”
“Well henry is too dumb to be happy because he has never realized that he is old, fat, rich and irrelevant.” We laughed and watch him mock wrestle a stuffed panda bear.
“He still does not have that stupid bird bath and he is happy. I think that maybe he was behind the door when the brains were being handed out.”
Marshall smiled that evil smile he had when he was young.
“Thanks John you were a big help. So there really is a god?”
“Yes there is.” Staring into the sun behind his head. {Fucker}
“Are you sure?” Cocking his head to one side.
“Yes I am, he just told me to tell you to come by on Thursday.”
“Really? What happens on Thursday?
“Just some more education I think you deserve it you old fat man.
“Ha you are older than me John.” He smiled.
“And yet I am happier.” I smiled back to meet his
Marshall scooped up his kids and headed home.
Johnny Cash was playing gospel songs for the crowd. It was a nice day.
Henry came up covered in egg and candy with grass stains on his furry knees.
“Hey John, do you think the HOA will pay for he cleaning bill of my bunny suit?”
“No Henry they will not. They did not ask you to roll on the ground and act like a wounded war vet. They did not ask you to dress up as a bunny. You volunteered. Hey why do you have a bunny suit anyways?”
“My sexual preferences are none of your business.” He shot back in defiance and shame.
“Well you could have said ‘it was a charity thing you do’ but, now we all know you are a sick twisted, bird loving, old punker with little else to do but get kinky in a bunny suit.”

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