See You In Hell
John Paul slammed the accelerator to the floor. "Sir. When that Bum was attacking you. Were you scared? Did you ever think you would die and we'd fail this mission leading to explosions across Glasgow. Millions dead and worst of all... Christmas would be ruined." John Paul quickly hit the breaks, resulting in Francis flying forward and smacking his face off the chair in front. "Doubt? Doubt! We're on a mission from God himself. He won't allow failure. Have faith my boy." Francis wipes his tears "Sorry Sir. Your right. With God on our side. How can we lose?" John Paul nods his head in agreement and turns the corner to face the bridge. As they approached the bridge the air thickened with dread. Something was off, really off (Or was that just the smell of the Homeless Bums?)
They got out the Popemobile, baseball bat and pen clutched in hand and approached the abyss under the bridge. They where soon greeted with the grotesque canvas of limbs and blood that Jesus had left splattered across the floor. The blood lined a red carpet for the boys the walk, from the entrance straight to the massacre. As the reached the end of the path they noticed one thing, Our lord and saviour, Jesus was nowhere to be seen.
Francis notices Jesus's long sword, in a pool of blood, walks towards in, and picks it up. He fears the worst and screams "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!", but his cries are met with silence, apart from the echos of "Jesus!" that filled the abyss. Echos that alerted an army of Homeless Bums, hell bent on avenging their comrades.
They ran towards John Paul and Francis screeching. The air was thick with tension. Time slowed to a halt. The boy's new they were no match for the army racing towards them, but they stood firm, ready to fight until their last breath. "He gave his life, it's time for us to do the same. Thanks boy. It's been an honour" John Paul said as he put his hands together in prayer and bowed towards Francis. Francis shed a tear, clasped his hands in prayer, bowed and replied "Thank you, Sir. See you in heaven"
The boys then charge towards the bums. John Paul knocks the heads clean off 5 Homeless Bums. Francis armed with the longsword, slices 3 Bum's in half. But despite their best efforts it was hopeless. They ran back. closed their eyes and prayed "Dear God. We repent of our sins. Please grant us passing into your heavenly home. Aman". But instead of the warmth of celestial light, their eyes opened to a much warmer light.
The light of the eternal flames. The stench of burning bodies and rotting flesh. The Screams of agony from their fellow man. Despite killing countless Homeless Bums tonight, in an attempt to save Glasgow, millions of lives and most importantly of all - Christmas, there was still too many of them. Despite their best efforts the Homeless Bums that were still alive, would soon be setting up camp. Lining the streets outside stores throughout Glasgow and one by one, like dominos, explode, Boom! Boom! Boom! destroying the city, killing millions and worst of all ruining Christmas. God was clearly outraged. Despite their best efforts they weren't in gods embrace, they where far from it, they where in down bellow, they were, in hell.
