Victory

By Katharine

Warnings: Rated PG.

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TO: God

FROM: Satan

RE: Victory

To Whom It May Concern:

The victory is mine.

If you don’t believe me, just take a look around!

Your Son is dead—lying cold and breathless in a hole in the ground.

His best friends, his so-called “apostles,” are long gone—the spineless idiots took off like startled deer at the first sign of trouble.

His message, that precious gospel that he was trying oh-so-hard to spread, isn’t going anywhere without him—the crowds have the attention span of a gnat, you know, and his “chosen few” are too afraid to even speak his name aloud.

So much for your grand “Save Humanity!” project.

Look at them! Those creatures of yours, those people you seem to like so much. You really thought he had them eating out of his hand, didn’t you? You thought he had them all wrapped up for you with a nice bow, ready to come running to you at the snap of your fingers!

It’s too bad you didn’t check out all the bases before you sent your Son out on a limb. You didn’t count on your own priests taking offense at your brand-new “covenant” idea. You didn’t realize how much sway I hold over their little hearts.

Listen, I’ve been running the show here on planet Earth for a while now, and I’ve learned to work the system. Convincing your priestly fan club of your Son’s guilt was as easy as a whisper of, “Usurper.”

And now, your only Son is as dead as the rocks he’s buried under. Dead and gone, little more than the latest of Israel’s martyred prophets. Slaughtered by uppity chunks of dirt.

So, what now? What are you going to do, now that your plan is in the tank and your Son is in the grave? Will you finally give up on those pathetic dirt-creatures?

What will you do, now that your last resort has failed?

Paltry condolences,

Satan

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Written just after I watched “The Passion of the Christ” for the first time. God’s reply letter is next.