Spoof Issue: Column: Mel Gibson is going to hell

Reader’s Note: This story is satirical and was published in a spoof issue.

So I’m back. And frankly, I’m not happy about it. I really didn’t think anything could pull me away from my 2,000-year rest at the right hand of my Father. I mean, I died for your sins. I figure I deserve a little break. You have to understand, time is different for me, so a year in the Kingdom of Heaven is like 10,000 for you guys on Earth. Basically, I’d just gotten my feet up, ready to sit back and kick with all the Heavenly Host, when I get the call that some Australian jackass has royally screwed with my story. Mel, I know you probably hear this a lot, but you’ve totally pissed off the wrong guy this time. Don’t make me vengeful, Mel. You wouldn’t like me when I’m vengeful.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: my Dad hates Australia. Always has. He made it just so he’d have somewhere to stick the bastards that pissed him off. Originally, that was what Britain was for, but when that filled up we sent the most annoying of those bastards off to a little corner of Hell in the South Pacific with wallabies, dingoes, vegemite and everything else that Dad hates. But my Dad’s a real softy and he always likes to think you’ll come around and find salvation, and who knows, maybe there’s still hope for the rest of that shit stain of a continent … but not for you, Mel Gibson. You are so totally going to Hell.

And I’m not talking, like, regular Hell, either. I’ve already got your place picked out between the two most offensive people to ever live – Hitler and Carrot Top. You’re going to spend the rest of eternity watching them take turns doing impressions of each other. Also, your balls will be on fire. Think about that the next time you feel “inspired” to make a crappy movie.

First off, Jim Caviezel? WTF, Mel? I’m way better looking. And what’s with all that wincing and sobbing and falling over? When I died for your sins, I took it like the man-God that I am. Plus, the level of gore in that movie of yours is totally out of control. I mean, yeah they killed me, but they weren’t dicks about it or anything.

And where are the babes? Let’s get one thing straight: I may have been celibate and pure and all that, but chicks totally dig me. Think about it: I’m very giving, wine flows out of my fingers and I’m the Son of the most powerful being there is – what could possibly be a bigger turn on for a Jewish girl?

Speaking of which, lay off the Jews. I mean, maybe you illiterate Aussies didn’t know this, but I’m Jewish. Did you think they call them the Chosen People for nothing? God is crazy about the Jews. How do you think they survived this long? People ask me all the time, “J.C., how could you let so much crap happen to the Jews? They’re your favorites, right?” Damn straight they’re my favorites – but they managed to piss off every single other race on the planet, and there’s only so much you can do at that point. For a while we considered just wiping everyone else off the face of the earth, but the Holy Ghost thought that might be overdoing it just a tad.

Think about it, Mel – a world with nothing but Jews, all of ’em running around in those funny little hats, fearing their mothers, eating Gefilte fish and saying words like “ferklempt” and “meshugena.” It’d be freakin’ hysterical. I’d die for their sins laughing. You know why the Jews don’t worship me? They don’t need to. I love the crazy buggers too much – they can pretty much do whatever they want.

But not you, Mel. You are in seriously deep shit. You’re lucky I don’t waste that entire brown spot you call a native land for that movie. Listen, for the last time, the Jews didn’t kill me, OK? They were just playing along. When you get right down to it, all humans are crap. Every last of one of you has roughly the intelligence of mud, but you strut around like you’re some seriously hot shit. It’s beyond ridiculous.

You know what, though? I was willing to let the whole killing me thing slide. I came back, right? No harm done. But then dicks like you have to go around assigning blame and slaughtering people because you think it’d make God happy. You want to please God? Go make another “Mad Max” – now that was a movie.

What did I ever do to you, Mel? Hasn’t life been good to you? Did I give you a reason to mess with my pals? The Romans – now there’s a bunch of dicks. But are there pogroms against those greaseball gombas? Of course not. And they don’t even wear funny hats.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, you made some serious dough on this one. I haven’t heard a word about you donating it to charity, either. I can hear your thoughts, Mel. You’re not fooling anyone. That whole thing about feeding the hungry? I meant that. Seriously, don’t make it any worse for yourself than it already is.

Come to think of it, I don’t recall getting asked for license to use my story. In fact, I didn’t sign a damn thing. That’s it. I know you didn’t just try to screw a Jew out of royalties. Hold still while I get my Smiting Rod. You’re toast.

-The writer, the King of the Jews, died for all the world’s sins.

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