Bob A-Shuffle a-shuffles his marked trumps
Bob A-Shuffle: Let me ask the both of youse… My wife, as your both of the wives of youse, are they pretty dyky, what?
K: You got it, Bob.
K: Bob, you got it.
Bob: We are the three of us pretty effeminate, what’s the word, wimpy shits, aren’t we?
K: And kissy-kissy, Bob.
K: Bob, and osculating our lips off, yes, sir.
Bob: Brownnosing and mensessipping, from Mississippi to the Mountain States….
K: Excellent song.
K: A doozy, Bob.
Bob: Well, and now to something as important, shall we?… Faith in a living god aloft above ground sitting in a fucking throne, and all the shit… Faith, the both or youse so faithful, n’est-pas?
K: The faithfulest moi, Bob.
K: Bob, at faithfulation nobody beats me.
Bob: Meaning you believe in all this crazy filth about angels, and paradises, and hells, and devils, and whorish virgins, the whole fucking ugly caboodle, what?
K: Bob, I believe that oodle doodle caboodle, and more.
K: The more credulous and believulous, Bob, is me, of course, I’ve got the backing of all the mommies of Egypt and those of the Bible Ammunition Belt to boot. Reverend Putrefactive, pastor Lashit, canon Fodder, you name ‘em.
Bob: And what about your fucking bishops, sir.
K: The bishops, the bishops, the bishops, also, yes, sir, Bob. Such luminarian luminaries that we all meekly follow, up to a point.
K: The point of no return, ha-ha.
Bob: Whatever. But the real point is that… if youse both are ready to swallow all this infantile garbage, then it means that you are ready practically to swallow anything? And without practically. Just shut your eyes and pour it in. Is this good for the country?
K: Hey, Bob, fuck the country; what matters is the believability of the thing.
K: For of course, is god who made the country and everything.
K: And made the makeability of the making, let’s not forget.
Bob: But if he made everything, he also made all the shits of this whole shit. Like the shit of cancer, and pestilences, and sicknesses, and the death of children, and all that…
K: All for the good, Bob.
K: Bob, all the sick shit is done by god so that we realize how the fuck good is he.
Bob: But do you any of youse both realize that in all the civilized world you are considered atheists just because of the very fact that for youse both everything comes from a sole single simple god, meaning, having one only god alone amounts practically to having none. That’s the classical argument. While the civilized world has a-plenty, one for the storm, one for the calm, one for this, one for that, one for tit, one for tat.
K: The civilized world, Bob; you don’t mean the fucking savages, the polytheists, the animists, the pantheists, the cannibals?… Bah, just a tiny elite.
K: Exactly. For the civilized, on the contrary, seem to be us, the christian majority, and the fundamentalists terrorists: one god, one mission, one shit: send this world over to the rabid furies of the apocalypse. Po-pom!
Bob: Hum. Youse both, plus the fundamentalists, those are the civilized?… The worshippers of a sick mind, wrathful and criminal, scheming its gratuitous revenge on its created creeps, supposedly directing in crazy rejoicing all the massacres wreaked by viruses, bacteria, accidents, murderous sprees, guns, and such?…
K: Well, Bob. Now that you are talking about killing, that is a substantive matter. And, as opposed to my opponent, I pledge to the Amerrrican people that I will hunt and kill whomever crosses me or my path, or whichever.
K: But, Bob, will he kill them as fast as me? I’m a quick draw, you know; and I’ve got god’s permission to use any nucular fuck I find fit for the enhancement of his glory, and such.
Bob: But what about judges, and trials, and fair imprisonments and all this shit?
K: Oh, the fuck with that, Bob.
K: Bob, with that the fuck, yes, sir.
Bob: Well, and that concludes our last debate.