My brilliant friend Max wrote this recently and said it would be cool for me to post it. It is long, yet hilarious and well worth the read. I laughed out loud through much of it.
Sorry about the all-lowercase. Easier to just reproduce as he wrote it. Enjoy.
—
a priest interrogates satan in the final courtroom drama
priest = is there any risk in becoming an atheist?
satan = yes.
priest = can you tell us what the risk, or risks, are?
satan = primarily, loss of hope.
priest = hope for what, sir?
satan = hope that some all-powerful being will swoop down at the moment of disaster and save us.
priest = how is this a risk?
satan’s barrister = objection! speculative!
judge = you invoke speculation too often. overruled.
satan = let me just say for the record that the universe has no parent other than a spark, which itself is a child of some prior spark, which was dependent on an earlier spark, and so on. one asks if there must have been someone who lit the first spark, that there was nothing until an uncreated spirit caused being. well, that’s one way to look at it. but for existence to be labeled an exception, and nothingness the default — could that be a fundamental error?
priest = i fail to see your point.
satan = my point is that existence may need no apology. and if
existence is assured then there’s no need to grovel to a savior god.
and once you realize the throne is empty — hey! plop your ass on
the marbled plinth and wank ya scepter ya own damn self! forsooth,
if there is no god, why, then we must becometh one!
uproar, judge bangs gavel.
judge = order, or i flood the room with habañero gas!
the priest takes advantage of the mayhem to lean in and whisper to
satan.
priest = your grand-standing will avail you nothing. nobody cares
about truth anymore. they want security. you think you’re a bold
rebel. well, you’re just a has-been. a loser. and i can’t wait to
see you with your teeth in the dust.
satan = thank you, lord, for delivering this fool to me.
priest = i — what?
satan holds up a microdisk.
satan = got ya on tape. wonder what the media would think if i
shopped this around?
priest = you can’t do that! your honor! your honor!
judge = eh? what are you bleating about?
priest = he’s got a microdisk!
judge = oh come on.
priest = your honor, i saw it. i don’t know why, but he showed it to
me.
judge = is that true?
satan = i didn’t see no microdisk, your honor.
judge = bailiffs! search the witness!
the bailiffs stomp over and pat satan down.
bailiff = couldn’t find anything, boss.
priest = i saw it! i know i saw it! he’s pulling some kind of
sleight-of-hand!
judge = counselor, your febrile squawkings have pushed me to my
limit. if you cannot advance your argument with logical rigor and
need resort to histrionics, you’ve lost the court’s sympathy.
priest = your honor i swear — he had a microdisk!
the ceiling opens and god hands down an index card. the judge takes
it and adjusts his bifocals.
judge = “it’s true. he had a microdisk.” my bailiffs are very
competent. if the microdisk was on his person, they would have found
it.
priest = we all know the defendant is a notorious ‘con’ artist. he’s
got it tucked away somewhere!
satan’s barrister = objection! this is outrageous, your honor. my
client has submitted to the indignity of a public frisk, and neither
of the court’s professional gropers were able to locate a microdisk
on his person. and now we must listen to this hysterical theist
casting aspersions on his character?
satan = couldn’t have said it better if i advocated myself.
priest = look up his drawers!
satan = whoa!
mayhem.
judge = counselor, i’m warning you –
priest = look up his drawers! i don’t know how he did it, but the
microdisk must be there!
judge = order! order! what are you saying, counselor?
priest = he stuck the microdisk up his ass! that’s exactly the kind
of thing he’d do, the old fornicator!
satan = flattery will get you everywhere, girlfriend.
judge = dammit, can i get some order here?
during the tumult satan beckons to the priest.
satan = great job you’re doing. i gotta say, though, even if you
give me the mother of all cavity searches, you’ll never find that
microdisk.
priest = it matters not. the jury is against you now. i’ve planted
the seeds of doubt. as we both know, that’s all it takes.
satan = you’d make a fine devil. and as we both know, the road from
priest to fiend is the shortest of ways.
priest = that road has two lanes.
satan = so it does. but who wants to trudge uphill?
the judge’s gavel breaks.
judge = there goes another one. bailiff, if you please.
a bailiff opens a box of gavels and brings the judge a fresh one.
judge = hmm, hm. good balance, acceptable heft. where are these
made?
bailiff = some sweatshop in malaysia, your honor.
judge = banyan?
bailiff = naw, i’d say teak.
judge = (bangs gavel) shut the fuck up! not bad. okay. where were
we?
satan = i’ve hidden a microdisk somewhere on my person, according to
this fellow.
judge = anybody here see a microdisk?
audience = nope. nope. not us.
priest = replay one of the cameras! they would have picked it up.
the crews review their footage.
crew-member = no sign of a microdisk, your honor.
judge = what’s going on at the moment the counselor says the
microdisk appeared?
crew-member = they’re just talking to each other.
priest = your honor, he even admitted that he had a microdisk. he
said ‘got you on tape’!
crew-member = unfortunately the ambient noise washes out their
speech.
judge = can you see their flappers? maybe we can get a lip-reader.
the camera crews compare footage.
crew-member = for some reason, none of us got a shot of the
principals’ faces during the exchange.
judge = don’t you usually do close-ups during a cross-exam?
crew-member = yes your honor, but the camera operators do not focus
exclusively on the verbal exchange. sometimes they take shots of the
audience, the opposing counsel at table, say, or your own charismatic
self. at this instance, all the cameras happened to be engaged in
shots away from the bench.
judge = that’s a bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?
crew-member = very unusual, but bound to happen once in a while.
the judge looks speculatively at satan.
priest = i’m telling you, judge. he got something going on.
satan = what i don’t understand is even if i did have a microdisk and
recorded the exchange and hid it somewhere, and pulled some kind of
trick that nobody can prove, why get excited? what does it matter?
is that something to bring the trial to a screeching halt?
judge = you’ve got a point.
priest = your honor, he’s up to something. i saw it –
satan = maybe you’re losing your mind.
priest = he took an oath to tell the truth! he’s lying!
judge = if he farts under oath and says he didn’t, who cares. it’s
not relevant. if he has a microdisk stuck up his ass, that’s his
damage. why are you wearying the court with pointless charges?
priest = god saw the microdisk! isn’t that proof enough!
satan’s barrister = objection! even the lord’s word is hearsay.
priest = your honor, i demand a mistrial until these irregularities
are resolved.
satan = i demand this fellow be made to roller-skate nude in a cactus
patch.
judge = order! order!
the priest sidles up to satan.
priest = think you’re clever, eh? you’re like a naughty child trying
to see how much he can get away with before he’s caught.
satan = ho hum, the old parental metaphor.
priest = you saw god hand the card through the ceiling. do you deny
that fact?
satan = i deny no facts. do you deny that all god ever does is hand
down cards through the ceiling?
priest = he does what he wants. he could do more if he pleases.
satan = but i ain’t seen it yet. it’s always cards through the
ceiling as far back as i can tell. why should i expect he’ll ever do
different?
priest = god loves you and will help you if you ask.
satan = and he helps those who help themselves. spare me the
hide-bound emotional appeals. you’re out of your depth. this trial
ain’t a beef between me and god. it’s about whether you can plead
your case in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. it’s
about how good a priest you are.
priest = this trial is about truth.
satan = the truth has long been settled. i’m right, everybody knows
it. the jury is not on your side, neither is the court, and neither
is the public. you’re doomed. unless you want to be handed a
humiliating defeat, your only recourse is to plead your argument with
such eloquence and fire that they let you off with a wrist-slap.
priest = your confidence is a brittle shell.
satan = can’t be that brittle because i’ve put my money where my
mouth is. i’m a man of the world. i own lots of property. i’ve
even got a nice little hostel tucked aside to receive all the
disinherited priests who will flood the roads after the death of
religion. i’m generous in victory. i know what it’s like to be down
and out, singing the blues. all outcasts will be welcome at my hall.
even you. so why not join me, sir, and we’ll have grand revels with
drinking and dicing and the boasting of old days!
priest = they call you the prince of lies and i can see why. your
tongue would be hypnotic to one not versed in your subtle calumnies.
judge = order, order — god-dammit there goes another one. bailiff!
pacify these idiots! what are you two muttering about?
satan = just taunting, your honor.
judge = no taunting. i’m the only one allowed to taunt around here.
hey, you bailiffs, easy on the billies, eh? not in view of the
cameras.
satan’s barrister = well, i don’t have much to do today. who wants lunch?
Okay, Dena sent this to me and I have to say I am impressed. This is some serious Flash work, and really involved politics… Almost too much for one sitting. 
