Jesus Returns For His Cut Of The Money

This morning the Son of God descended to Earth in all his heavenly glory, shafts of light shining on his countenance, where beads of sweat glittered as he spake “Yeah, yeah, blessings and all that, do you have some of that money you’ve been collecting?” Choirs of angels sang his praises, but didn’t quite cover the sound of thunderous knocking on the clouds above, and shouts of “The Odinbank dost demand its gold!”

The Way and the Light landed in Saint Peter’s square, where Pope Francis insisted that none of the Catholic Church’s hundreds of billions of dollars in yearly income was currently stored in his vestments.

“There are many homes where my father lives”, explained the One True Savior, “And when you don’t flip them in time the interest gets pretty savage. And their debt collector carries a hammer. A hammer! Sweet me but he’s scary.”

“It turns out moneylenders are way harder to deal with when you can’t just violently smash up their stuff” added the Lord of Hosts, rubbing his most holy jaw and limping a little. “Honestly, as an unarmed pacifist I’m not sure how I got away with that the first time”

The Lamb of God whistled as entered St Paul’s basilica. “You guys have done alright for yourselves. No moneylenders in here, they couldn’t afford it. Any tax collectors? They owe me a favor.”

As storm clouds gathered over the Vatican it was explained that despite literally incalculable wealth, the Catholic Church doesn’t actually pay taxes. The King of Kings winced, sucking his teeth and explaining that while he would normally have a problem with that, now was a brilliant time for any rich men or even wealthy camels who wanted to work out entry into the Kingdom of Heaven. Christ the Lamb then winked, rubbing his thumb and fingertips together as lightning boomed above the dome.

At time of publication the Son of God is standing in St Peter’s square offering to turn bottled water into Romanée-Conti Burgundy at five euro a pop, but sales are poor owing to torrential rain.

More divine inspiration:

Heavily-armed Fundamentalist Sect Apprehended In Major European City

Early this morning an anti-terror raid recovered a cache of hundreds of pistols, rifles, and machine-guns, and arrested over a hundred men who had been trained in their use and stationed in the heart of the tourist district of Rome. These men insisted that they did not recognize the laws of Italy, and that they only answered to the will of a man they called “the Holy Father”.

Arresting officers discovered dozens of lethal HK MP7 submachine guns, SIG MKPO submachine guns with folding stocks, and dozens of Glock 9mm pistols, all specifically chosen because they could be hidden under the sect’s bizarre religiously-motivated clothing in crowded tourist areas.

Also recovered were dozens of swords, polearms, and a variety of medieval suits of armor. “Whoever this ‘Swiss Guard’ think they are,” said one investigating officer, “they never threw away a single weapon”.

The group’s fundamentalist beliefs are a direct threat to modern society. They allow no women in their ranks – a fact investigators credit with speeding their discovery, as no legitimate normal organization could maintain such blatant sexism in modern society for any length of time.

The cult’s leader “Holy Father”, aka Jorge Bergoglio, was also arrested in the sting. Despite his repeated insistence that his was a peaceful organization dedicated only to helping the needy, goods worth ten billion dollars were recovered in the group’s vast multi-building hideout. When asked if a legitimate charity organization could acquire this level of wealth, several responding officers started laughing, long and loud, and show no signs of ever stopping.

More religious news of divine intercessation:

Hollywood’s Upcoming All-White Live-Action Remakes

After bleaching Egypt in Exodus, and announcing caucasified live-action versions of Ghost in the Shell and Akira, Hollywood is half a step from releasing an all-white remake of the rainbow. What other projects are in the pipes?

  • Chess. Making all the characters white would make the plot confusing, if the plot hadn’t been simplified to a single male lead (White King) saving the Queen by/while killing a bunch of black pawns. The King and Queen have swapped powers, because Hollywood can’t handle a powerful woman rescuing a distressed male. In 2015. Apparently.
  • Where’s Wally. Searching through a huge number of near-identical figures to find the right one closely mirrors the modern lead casting process. Also provides a solid justification for making sure everyone is the same color.
  • Othello. Why not at this point.
  • La Pieta. This original has the advantage of already being white! Sure, it’s a masterpiece in its original medium, and the conversion to live-action movie would be more pointless, lifeless, and heavy-handed than replacing a porcupine with a bowling ball, but it’ll help Hollywood avoid new ideas for one more movie.
  • The Law of Gravity. Spinning a single equation into a two hour screenplay will require some effort. Announcements so far include a romance subplot, an old friend of the hero who appears to have betrayed him but relents at the last minute, and the inhuman universal constant of gravitation will be played by Benedict Cumberbatch.

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Lovecraftian Horrors Distance Themselves From Lovecraftian Racism

Madness congealed from beyond the reach of reason to hold a press conference yesterday, the squamous ichors of unknowable things incorporating to distance themselves from the racist remarks of Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

“We’re obviously grateful to Howie for all the work he’s done as a publicist, but can no longer ignore his execrable behavior” intoned C’thulhu, shattering microphones and eardrums with his R’lyhian unspeech. “The actions of the miniscule speck that is humanity are usually far beneath our contempt. But sub-dividing that speck based on hatred of race? Absolutely and always worth contempt, from anyone or anything capable of perceiving it.”

“We Old Ones are committed to flaying your minds for their contents, not the color of your skin.”

Nyarlthotep, flesh of nightmare and mocker of sanity, then took the microphone in a pseudopod coiling dark and strange through unknown dimensions to apologise for taking part in such racist work.

“We were young, mere aoens dark and deep beyond the span of counting, and, like, just waking up. We didn’t really know what I was doing. Those are not excuses. Those are the reasons I worked with someone I should have said no to.”

“We exist in the darkened howling of infinities which would flense the thoughts from your mind should you so much as glance upon them, leaving your being a shallow mockery, a petty void howling in resonance of the vastness that destroyed you. That’s what we do. We don’t write jaunty little poems titled ‘On The Creation of the N-word‘.”

“Jesus” added Nyarlthotep. “‘Creation of the N-word‘.”

The assorted horrors then proceeded to consume utterly all present, though those who said “He was a product of his time!” were seen to be consumed first, twice, and repeatedly in a gory affront to causality and hope.

C’thulhu addressed these objections even as they dissolved. “He was only a product of his time in the same way plutonium is a product of nuclear breeder reactors: he was made possible by what surrounded him, but was denser and far more poisonous.”

NOTE: We would like to thank our associates at FAX news for sharing their reportage. The mere sight of Old Ones destroys all intelligence and reason, rendering every other reporter incapable of words or thought, but the FAX reporter was apparently fine, and already submitting a story connecting the Old Ones to playground ebola terrorism before the conference ended.

Enjoy extended eldritchicity with New Problems From Old Ones: Seafood