hail satan

“You would never say, ‘Hail Satan’ would you?” I ask David.

“Hell no.”

“Not even as a joke?”

Gravely: “No.”

I didn’t let up.

“Let’s say there was an emergency and you needed a cab,
and the only cab in the city had SATAN written in huge red letters on the side…
would you literally ‘Hail Satan’ then?”

“No dude, I owe the Big Guy my life.”

“But God knows what’s in your heart…”

He ignored that. Told me his story. Brain tumor. Surgery. 40% chance to live.
(Obviously, he made it).

So there we both were
He a Miracle and me a shithead, both of us working the
same stupid shit job for no pay, legal slavery.

Somehow I don’t feel like I owe the Big Guy.

In fact, I wish a cab would whisk me to Hell right now
with David’s tumor behind the wheel.

how could it be worse?

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