The Terror of Pat Robertson

This is a work of Fiction:  Any resemblance to an actual person should be inferred.  After all, who would be this stupid?

In the offices of a certain religious broadcasting network:

–No, Paul, I don’t know what we’re gonna do. This idiot in the White House is a real problem. So far, we’ve been able to keep him from doing anything, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last. Before you know it, we’re going to have the gays getting married, and after that? Who knows? Dogs marrying cats? It’s just getting out of hand! I tell ya, somebody better do something! And now there’s talk of raising taxes on…what? No—TAXES! Not taxis. T-A-X-E-S! Taxis? Who the hell ever heard of raising taxis? Jesus Christ, Paul! You’re dumber than I…

–Excuse me, Mr. Robertson?

–Pam! You know better than to interrupt me when I’m talking to a brother evangelist! What is it?

–It’s just you have another one of those visitors, Mr. Robertson. You usually…

–Who is it? Tall guy, kind of ratty looking? Got a beard?

–No.

–A woman? Got a long shawl kinda thingy? Got stars on it?

–Uh, no. It’s a…

–Is it that “chinky” looking fella?

–Why don’t I just send him in?

–All right, Pam. Send him in. Like I need this. Sorry, Paul. I’ll have to call you back later. Yeah, I’ll call you back. No…nobody knows you’re Jewish.

–I’ll send him right in, Mr. Robertson.

–Welcome, Mister… Jesus Christ! What the hell? You some kind of A-rab? You’re not gonna blow us all to kingdom come, are you?

–Peace be with you, Mr. Robertson. I just…what? Blow you up? Why the hell would I blow you up? What the hell is wrong with you? I swear, Moses was right about you.

–Moses? What did Moses say about me? And just who the hell are you, anyway? I don’t remember meeting you before.

–I’d rather not state my name, Mr. Robertson.

–Why not? What’re you tryin’ to hide?

–I’m not trying to hide anything. It’s just that some people get a little weird about my name, that’s all. I don’t need the aggravation. I just came to talk to you about your recent comments. I have a request.

–Yes? How can I help you?

–You can shut the fuck up! That’s what you can do. According to our records, you recently said that Islam is not a religion. You said it was…let me see here…Oh yeah, here it is…” a violent political system.” Mr. Robertson, Islam is NOT a violent political system. Islam comes from the Arabic root “Salema”. You know what Salema means, asshole? It means peace, purity, submission,obedience. Islam means submission to the will of God and obedience to His law. Does that sound like a political system to you?

–Look, I don’t know who you are, but…

–You don’t know who I am, peace be upon me? Then you’re dumber than I thought! Look, I didn’t come here for myself. I wouldn’t have bothered. The guy upstairs sent me.

–The guy upstairs? Who? Jerry?

–Jerry? No, Mr. Robertson. Allah. You know, God? Jehovah? Yahweh? Any of those names ring a bell? How about The Great Spirit? Jerry! Jesus Christ!

–Now I know THAT guy!

–No, I don’t think you do. I know Jesus. And Jesus wouldn’t say that kind of crap! I swear, somebody ought to call a Jihad on YOU! Look! Right at the moment, relations between your people and my people are a little…strained…you might say. I really don’t think that saying Islam is a violent political system is going to make things better, do you? We’re all just trying to get along. People like you make it kind of hard.

–You people don’t seem too peaceful to me. You call what happened on 9/11 peaceful?

–Don’t blame me for what some of my followers do. Look at you. You’re supposed to be a follower of Jesus, and I gotta tell ya. I know Jesus. And you’re no Jesus, Mr. Robertson. Not even close. You know what the Koran says? A believer is one from whom people feel secure as regards their lives and property. Another hadith has this to say: By God, he is not a believer from whose nuisance his neighbor is not safe. For cryin’ out loud! We greet each other by saying “peace be upon you!” How much more peaceful do you want? I told people that peace is a law of nature—a law of Allah!

–Well, I just…

–Shut up! Okay? Shut up, shut up, shut up!

–But…

–Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! I’m not as patient as those other guys. I didn’t even want to come here. But I’m a peaceful guy. I don’t want to see you get some kind of lightning bolt shoved up your ass, at least not on my account. So shut up.

–We got a little thing here called freedom of speech.

–Yeah? And the Lord has a right to shove a lightning bolt up your ass, too. Actions have consequences, Mr. Robertson. I thought the Buddha made that clear to you. You are one slow mother, you know that? You are the mother of all mother…

–Shut your mouth!

–Okay, no more quoting Isaac Hayes song lyrics and just listen. Stop it. Stop saying inflammatory things. There are people who listen to you. I don’t know why the Lord puts up with them, but He does. And they listen to you. So knock it off. Personally, I’d like to see a little peace in the middle east. I sort of have a soft spot for that particular piece of earth. So I’d appreciate it if you would stop making comments like that. Moreover, I have it on high authority that I’m not the only one who feels that way. Really high authority. REALLY high authority. Get me? So stop it. Now you can go back to your phone calls and your little fundamentalist idiots, or whatever it is you do here, but just be quiet, okay? Because we’re starting to lose patience with you. You might make it into Heaven, Mr. Robertson, but your mansion is gonna start looking like a tar paper shack real soon if you don’t watch out. It’s not your job to start Armageddon. Oh…and Mr. Robertson?

–Yes?

–Tell Pam to cover up a little bit more. Leave a little to the imagination, know what I mean? See ya later. And I mean that, too. Peace, dude.