Azazel here. I know the title may be a bit dramatic, but there is a very good chance that my days with Jesus! Inc. are numbered. You see, I am writing this post from jail. Some run down, backwater jail deep in the middle of nowhere, Ohio. Not only that, but I am waiting for Jesus to come bail me out. Me and about a dozen catholic priests. Yeah, not good. It seems that my idea of Nullus Pecco was not such a good idea.
(in case you need a reminder of what Nullus Pecco is, read this excerpt from my previous post "Saving the Face of Catholicism"...Once a priest has given himself to the cloth for ten years, he enters a period of Nullus Pecco. He will then be allowed to do whatever his heart desires and the church will not frown upon it. Each year Nullus Pecco will begin with a huge convention/rave at an undisclosed location and spread out from there. After a period of seven days (for poetic reasons of course), all the priests partaking in Nullus Pecco will then make a choice. Continue this period of sinless living or go back to the church, healthy with their choice to devote their lives to God. With this event, we are allowing the "diabetic" to eat his "candy" without fear of losing an eye.)
Sounded like a good idea didn't it? I thought so. A great way for our guys to let loose and refocus their lives and help stop the pedophile priest image that has taken over. It works for the Amish. So evites were sent out, an old barn was rented on the outskirts of town, decorations were put up. Pontius Pilate even made his famous guacamole dip. Everything was in place for a perfect week. If I had a conscience, it would have been screaming.
The official kickoff began at 7pm on Monday night with a social mixer. About two hundred priests from all over the world were expected to attend. There was a DJ, some punch, streamers, the whole nine yards. The priests started making their way to the barn and began mingling and everything seemed like it would go well. Yet after an hour, the whole scene had turned into a junior high dance. A handful of priests stood in the corners of the room, quietly talking amongst themselves. Some sat on the benches, staring at their punch. Most everyone had grouped in with the people they already knew and didn't dare talk to anyone else. It was dreadful. I didn't know what to do. But as emcee of Nullus Pecco I had to do something. So I made my way to the center of the dance floor and was about to give a pep talk when I was saved by the most unlikely of people. Little did I know that this was the beginning of a very downward spiral. From outside of the barn I heard a car racing up the drive, heavy base booming from its subwoofers, tires screeching as it skidded to a stop, doors opening and loud voices laughing and yelling. I heard them approach the barn and could smell the distinct aroma of a certain medicinal plant. Suddenly the doors were kicked open and everything turned into a scene from some R-rated version of Footloose. There, in the doorway, backlit from their still beaming car headlights, stood five priests from the Archdiocese of Boston. The rebels of Catholicism dressed in their best Sunday robes, sunglasses, bling-bling crucifixes around their necks and one Michael Jackson glove on their right hand. One of them was even wearing a costume poking fun at the reason for Nullus Pecco:
(I will admit that I snickered to myself when I saw it.) I turned to see the reaction of the other priests. Every single one of them stared at the Boston Five like a bunch of men on a nude beach seeing the first naked woman walking up. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anticipation the "leader" of the Boston Five ran into the middle of the dance floor and yelled with his best Kevin Bacon impersonation, "I thought this was a party... Let's DANCE!!!!!!!!!!"
And with that, all hell broke loose. (Pardon my choice of words.) The music exploded to a deafening pace, blaring out a mix of the best dance songs from the 1980's. Pump Up the Jam, Push It, It's Raining Men, All Night Long and so on. Everyone ran to the dance floor, surrounding the Boston Five. The priests threw their problems to the side and moved their bodies like they were swatting at a swarm of bees. The Boston Five began dancing. And what I mean is, Breakdancing. These guys could move! They started spinning and flipping and popping like I had never seen before. (oh, and a little side note for later. Those priests in the robes? Turns out they don't like to wear underwear. Yeah. Imagine finding THAT out while they do a backflip. Yikes.) Anyway, back to the evening. As the energy in the room rose, I was able to relax a little and enjoy the festivities. I even danced a little, had some punch, mingled with the crowd. It all seemed good. If only I knew that the punch had been spiked with ecstasy. By the middle of the night the barn looked like a mix of Jonestown, experimental theater, and the make-out room of a high school dance from the 70's. Smiling, laughing priests lie on the floor staring at their hands like they were angels. Others swayed to the sounds of the music, which by this time was just static since the DJ had passed out hours before. Still others had let go of all inhibitions and were getting up close and personal with some people that I don't think were invited to the party. Or priests. In fact, I think they were "working." But who am I to judge, everything is ok at Nullus Pecco. Plus, my vision was pretty blurred anyway, having drank about fifteen glasses of spiked punch.
Suddenly one priest, who had obviously had more than just the punch, jumped up off the ground screaming that he had to get out of there. That the walls were caving in. (I'll have what he's having) He ran towards the doors, missing them completely, and smashed through the wall to the outside. I ran towards him to see if he was ok but he never stopped running. I watched as he stripped down to his birthday suit and ran into the woods, disappeared from sight. All I could hear was his howling. I turned back to the others and a handful had stood up and were smiling. I guess they thought he was onto something. Before I knew it, a dozen naked, howling priests barreled through the walls of the barn and ran out into the night. What did I do? When in Rome....
You know, when I first thought of the idea of Nullus Pecco, I never once, in a million years, would have thought that the event would lead to Satan running naked through the woods of Ohio with a dozen howling, also naked, priests. It was like Lord of the Flies. We did anything we wanted to. We danced in the moonlight, we started a bonfire and chased each other with flaming sticks. We even came across a field of dairy cows and tipped them over. Every single one of them. Turns out you really can tip cows.
It was just past dawn when we came across the nearby town. Again, wish I had a conscience.
One priest decided it would be fun to act like an elite fighting force and infiltrate the town. Our mission was to find a box of twinkies. Sounded like a good idea to me. Our biggest worry would be figuring out our call signs.
So the Ice Man, Papa Confession, Altar Boy, Captain Twelve Inch (don't ask), Goose, Ninja Nun, Warlock, Bible Thumper, Genesis 2 (?) and Dolph Lundgren made our way into the town. We rolled behind mailboxes, hid behind street signs, tiptoed down the sidewalk. All things that we thought were super sneaky. We failed to realize that this was a farm town and most everyone in it awoke BEFORE dawn. So, needless to say, there were many, many, many witnesses to our mission. Not to mention that the forest behind us had caught on fire thanks to our bonfires. So everyone was awake for that. But that did not stop us. When we had made it half way through the town, we began noticing that we were being followed by a few police cars, an ambulance, and half of the town's population. They sure were sneaky. We never saw them coming. Bible Thumper first realized that the town's people were real and not his imagination when he tried to hide behind a rather large farmer in overalls. The man did not care to have a naked old man crouched at his feet. A quick punch in the face made reality crash down to Earth for all of us. We screamed that it was a trap and ran in all directions. I raced down a back alley and dove into a garbage bin. Not one of my proudest moments. But it did not last long before I was dragged out and handcuffed by the locals. Soon I was sitting in jail, a blanket thrown over me, as I waited for the others to be rounded up. Papa Confession was found in a tree, acting like a bird. Goose was pulled out of someone's swimming pool. He kept yelling Maverick. I guess he really loves the movie Top Gun. Warlock and Ninja Nun got caught in the laundromat watching clothes spin in the drier. Altar Boy didn't make it far. He fell to the ground in the fetal position and began confessing his sins. Dolph Lundgren stood over him and, quoting Rocky IV, said "If he dies, he dies." Bible Thumper tried to act like a statue at the High School. Genesis 2 tried to trick everyone and act like a local. He filled his mouth up with dip, started talking with a country accent, and was the one that actually caught Warlock and Ninja Nun. He was rather disappointed when he found out no one was fooled by the naked man spitting tobacco on the ground. Oh, and Captain Twelve Inch was never caught. As I write this, he is still at large....giggity.
That's about it. Once Jesus gets here, it's goodbye Azazel. I know that Nullus Pecco was supposed to allow the priests to "let go", but I think it may have gone a tad too far. What with a forest fire and a bunch of naked men running through the town. so if this is my last post, it has been fun. I thank Jesus for this opportunity and will still try and convince people that he is the answer. I apologize to the members of this town. I am sorry about your forest but am glad you put it out so quickly. I don't know what will happen to the other priests back at the barn. After all, Nullus Pecco is supposed to be seven days and I got arrested after day one.
I will close with this. Catholicism isn't bad. A few apples may be bad, but not the whole bunch. Keep your head up, keep the Lord in your sites, and keep on keepin on.
Man I wish I had my pants.
As part of the network's upfront presentation to advertisers (full slate here), Comedy Central is set to announce "JC," a half-hour show about Christ wanting to escape the shadow of his "powerful but apathetic father" and live a regular life in New York City. 
That's the shiznit. Glass stairs leading above and below to compliment the ceiling and the floor. Man, Brother Jobe is a genius. He also suggested a glass floor in the basement with a shark tank below. There is a place called QUA utilizing the exact same concept. This practically makes it a necessity to put the underworld under purgatory. 
Now, our club has four levels - except the sharks on the bottom. I figure the sharks will be will be a metaphor to all those opportunities waiting to devour your soul. Pretty intense if you ask me. The addition we are make is at the bar. There will be fire. It's going to be HOT down there. Both in temperature and available entertainment. 
How neat is that... The sky room... 
