GOD IS FUCKING YOUR SISTER
The bold new slogan of St. Matthews controversial advertising campaign stood plainly in 6ft high text outside the nervous looking Lincoln church.
"It's just, I'm still not sure." Fretted the good Reverend John Bale, who had been uncertain about the necessity for an ad campaign to begin with. A tall, Armani clad agent of the Arscott London advertising company was midway through holstering his iPhone when he replied.
"Your religion is dying in a sea of shit, Reverend."
The small elderly man of God looked saddened by the comment, but the suited up Dan Hayward continued undaunted.
"Nobody cares about your God anymore, why?"
"I-"
"Because God is not relatable. He needs to be more accessible."
"Bu-"
"We need to shove God into the faces of every hapless bastard that walks past this church. Do you know what's wrong with your God?"
"…"
"Your God is getting nobody laid."
Rev. John Bale remained quiet as Dan pressed on, his mind cast back to the parish council meetings that had lead up to this. Sunday sermons were quiet, nobody took confession anymore. Roman Catholicism seemed to be getting harder to sell. Rev. Bale had persisted that things would pick up, that a London advertising company would not benefit a small church like this. They hadn't listened, they were interested in good community values, trying to get more people through the doors of churches to boost statistics within the St. Matthews catchment area. Rev. John Bale sighed.
"-Ram a bible down every uncircumcised cock in England." Finished Dan. The Reverend didn't say anything, instead he turned his gaze back to the billboard now incriminating his Lord and Father in breaking one of the most valued commandments.
GOD IS FUCKING YOUR SISTER
Dan continued his unabashed explanation as to why it was a good idea to publicly desecrate the Christian faith on a 2 meter high billboard, using qualifying phrases like "spiritual wank material" and "fuck-ability". Rev. Bale remembered struggling to come to terms with the use of email, when the church parish had voted it a good idea to broaden their means of communication, spreading the word of God.
The word of God.
Reverend John Bale sighed.
"Sorry."
The bold new slogan of St. Matthews controversial advertising campaign stood plainly in 6ft high text outside the nervous looking Lincoln church.
"It's just, I'm still not sure." Fretted the good Reverend John Bale, who had been uncertain about the necessity for an ad campaign to begin with. A tall, Armani clad agent of the Arscott London advertising company was midway through holstering his iPhone when he replied.
"Your religion is dying in a sea of shit, Reverend."
The small elderly man of God looked saddened by the comment, but the suited up Dan Hayward continued undaunted.
"Nobody cares about your God anymore, why?"
"I-"
"Because God is not relatable. He needs to be more accessible."
"Bu-"
"We need to shove God into the faces of every hapless bastard that walks past this church. Do you know what's wrong with your God?"
"…"
"Your God is getting nobody laid."
Rev. John Bale remained quiet as Dan pressed on, his mind cast back to the parish council meetings that had lead up to this. Sunday sermons were quiet, nobody took confession anymore. Roman Catholicism seemed to be getting harder to sell. Rev. Bale had persisted that things would pick up, that a London advertising company would not benefit a small church like this. They hadn't listened, they were interested in good community values, trying to get more people through the doors of churches to boost statistics within the St. Matthews catchment area. Rev. John Bale sighed.
"-Ram a bible down every uncircumcised cock in England." Finished Dan. The Reverend didn't say anything, instead he turned his gaze back to the billboard now incriminating his Lord and Father in breaking one of the most valued commandments.
GOD IS FUCKING YOUR SISTER
Dan continued his unabashed explanation as to why it was a good idea to publicly desecrate the Christian faith on a 2 meter high billboard, using qualifying phrases like "spiritual wank material" and "fuck-ability". Rev. Bale remembered struggling to come to terms with the use of email, when the church parish had voted it a good idea to broaden their means of communication, spreading the word of God.
The word of God.
Reverend John Bale sighed.
"Sorry."
This is great and bizarre, another enjoyable read Jow!
ReplyDeleteYou're too fucking literate Jow. Mice cats chase eat cheese.
ReplyDelete