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| The Story | |
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LordRahl 05:15 pm UTC 12/11/07 |
| In reply to: | VERY nervous to share this... "Jim Steinman IN A.G.'s Inferno" - LordRahl 05:13 pm UTC 12/11/07 |
| I was standing before the gates of hell. At the entrance Jim Steinman, songwriter and poet, was waiting for me. Jim said unto me, “A.G., it is ordained by him who is above, that thou see that which is below and through his glory I will lead you from the first lever of hell to its last.” “Okay,” replied I. We begin our journey the moment we step though the gates of hell, above which a sign reads, “Ye who enters here shall not be able to bat out!” The sights I am seeing are quite unusual. Surrounding me are stores and stands of goods that everyone in the world would long for. Around them are people looking to buy the odds and ends. “What is so bad about this?” I asked Jim. “Look carefully and hear the sirens screaming and the fires howling way down in the valley tonight. See how the poor unfortunate souls wish to purchase the goods they desire, but some do not have enough money to purchase their object of need. Near other stores more souls are waiting an eternity for the store to open while their much-craved item sits in the window mocking them. Look! There is Bill Gates. He waits for his competition to go for sale. Let us move on for there is a tunnel where the deadly arise we must reach”. We reach the second level where the lazy spend their eternity. The majority of the souls here are very obese and seem to have a hard time moving. The souls are being forced by nasty looking creatures wearing name badges to do jobs like mowing grass and putting new mail boxes in the ground. I see Star Wars creator George Lucas being forced to drag his creation, Jabba the Hutt along the ground. Jaba’s monkey lizard, Salacious Crumb is whipping him. “These men and women would not even get off the couch to save their own lives and George Lucas did not even try to come up with a good storyline with the new Star Wars movies. They lived on a razors edge and surfs up for them now. The vampires of my music shall dance on their graves. Let us abandon the shopping mall section of hell that we are now in and move on to the second of the three sections of hell, divided from the seven levels of the ring of hell, which, we will be first entering the third circle or level, if you will.” “Jim, please shut up,” I say. We are entering a small roller coaster ride with glass plates on all six sides of the cube like hexagon shape of the cart. The sides seem to be used for protection against any hazards we may encounter during our tour of hell. “These sides are used for protection against any hazards we may encounter during our tour of hell,” Jim explains. “Behold the third level, where the liars lay. Because of the dirt their mouths spoke in life they communicate with each other with the only word coming from their mouth being that of ‘dirt’. They always have something to say but may never share it. Behold the many news reporters and even former presidents.” My eye catches Bill Clinton. While Jim points out more and more liars we move on to the fourth level of hell, the level of traitors. This level has hundreds of millions of souls standing with their backs to one another while they each hold knives waiting to stab one another in the back. The backs of each soul are covered with stab marks. I see many people here but one that stuck out right away was president of the WWF (or WWE) Vincent K. McMahon. He is obviously here for betraying his longtime friend, and former champion, Bret “The Hitman” Hart from his title reign. I am surprised he is only at level four because many consider him a murderer and blame him for the death of Bret Hart’s brother, Owen. “This A.G., is where the journey gets dangerous and particularly quite nasty punishments are dished out on these new folk. We are now finished with the second section of hell which had crimes God would still grant people chances to be welcomed in the kingdom of heaven if they truly repent. The souls in this section are abandoned from God’s love and the torment they suffer will be theirs for a time longer than eternity. They are the lost boys and golden girls. We are taking things out of the frying pan and into the fire now so remember that objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are. Forever is gonna start tonight if you turn around bright eyes” Jim explains. “Every now and then I fall apart, Jim,” I tell him. This is the fifth circle of hell where murderers stay. Here I feel heaviness in the air. All around us are giant creatures strapping souls into harnesses. They pull on levers and the bodies are folded into small rectangular cubes. The process is very slow and the bones can be heard grinding together as the once human form is smashed and mashed. The cubes are put onto a conveyor belt and slid into a furnace where they are baked at a temperature so hot the people on earth are not capable of replicating. The cubes are then put in a small closet sized room where they are opened back into their human forms. The floor releases and they slide through chambers that have razor blades lining the walls. Their bodies are cut to a million pieces. These pieces fall in a great pile of flesh and bone where they are mixed with other murderers’ pieces. The pile is baked into a large cake the monsters will eat. The souls are then released in the monsters feces and the torture process is repeated. I can recognize the forms of Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy. “Those souls have received a punishment not just enough,” I tell Jim. He nods in agreement. “I once wrote that we must be braver then we are. This sixth section requires complete bravery and trust within one self to pass through unscathed. The future aint what it used to be for these souls. They wanna be where the people are, they wanna see them dancing, strolling down a street, up where we walk, up where we run, up where we stay all day in the sun, wandering free, wish they could be, part of our world. There turn will never come for they are the suicides.” Jim tells me. Now we are in the sixth level of hell where suicides suffer. These souls have open wounds all over their bodies. Blood is constantly dripping out of the wounds and out of their mouths and ears and eyes. There is so much blood the bodies slip and slide all over and can never stand fully erect. Most bodies crawl on the ground, humbled by their wretchedness. In this place there is walls that are red and a red road with a red bridge running over a red river. Jim and I notice Kurt Cobain walking toward us with pieces of his brain dragging behind him. We put the roller coaster in full gear and blast the heck out of the level of suicides. “Prepare for the worst. We enter the seventh and final level of hell...copyright. These souls are of the people who in their life committed genocides.” Jim says to me. Here the souls are being forced to re live the lives of the people they killed and of the lives of the people affected by their crime. The souls are chained to a machine and their eyelids are stapled to their foreheads while they view the lives of the victims. Adolf Hitler is here along with Osama Bin Laden and Timothy McVeigh. And Britney Spears. “Well A.G. that is hell,” says Jim. “Three ghosts will visit you tonight before the bell strikes midnight. If you choose not to change the ways of your life you will, in hell, wear a chain similar to that of your best friend Jacob Marley, only your rungs are much longer and much heavier than his. A new level of hell will be made for you to rest in with your chains if you do not heed these ghosts warnings.” “Knowledge to knowledge Jim. Always see everything.” I say. Well that is my story. Hopefully you guys dont rip me a new one if you think it is dumb. In hindsight I think alot of it may be a bit silly or stupid (and random) but I enjoyed writing it over five years ago and I hope you guys at least dont feel like you wasted precious minutes of your lives reading it. A.G. | |
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