Tom DeLay Meets Jesus

Shortly after Tom DeLay was struck and killed by a runaway golf cart as he played the 18th hole at The Congressional, and as his immortal soul floated toward the light, it stopped at a crossroads where he was met by Jesus.

“Hello, Tom,” Jesus said.

“Who the hell are you?” muttered the Hammer.

“I am Jesus, the Son of God, Tom,” was the reply.

“No shit,” he said, extending the glad hand with the same smile he had in his mug shot. “Gladta meetya.”

“It is time to take stock of your actions in life, Tom,” Jesus said.

“I did pretty damn good, didn’t I? Except for those wimp-assed bastards who messed with me at the end,” Delay said proudly.

“Did you lie, Tom?” asked Jesus.

“Well, it takes a lot of guts to be a man in my position,” came the reply.

“So that’s a yes,” Jesus said, marking it down.

“And did you tell people that you were working on behalf of God, and in His name?”

“Yes, of course. I always spoke highly of you and told the people that you’d do the same as me, if you were me,” said DeLay

“Do you think I would make children work in sweatshops in Saipan like you did when you blocked reform there?” asked Jesus.

“Uh, well I had to take care of my friends, you know.”

“I will ask you again, do you think I would make children work in sweatshops in Saipan like you did when you blocked reform there, and force them to have abortions as you did?”

“Where’d you hear that, from Huffington or some other Godless Communist place?” said the Hammer getting angry.

“Tom, are you getting angry with me? Do you know me?” said Jesus. “Do you know what this crossroads is that you’ve come to?”

“No, I don’t,” the Hammer said, bristling.

“Well, Tom you’ve done a bad job representing me on Earth. I think the only thing left to do is to teach you a lesson.”

“Whad’ya mean?”

“Here’s a surprise for you, Tom. I have been talking this over with several friends of mine, including Buddha, Moses and Mohammed and we’ve come up with this. We’re going to send you back to earth, to Texas.”

“Well, thankya, Jesus!”

“Not so fast, Tom,” Jesus replied. “We’re sending you back as a roach, to Sugarland, and we’ve arranged for your extermination company to be scheduled to visit the kitchen you’re going to infest.”

“Just a damn minute,” said the Hammer.

“You will escape a couple of times, running in sheer terror as your company tries to spray you out of existence, but finally your time will come. When that happens, I’ll be here waiting and we can have another conversation, Tom,” said Jesus.

“Wait, wait, holdonhere,” cried Delay.

And with that he was gone, back to earth and his next destiny.


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