“I know there’s no real chance that the Hell of orthodox Christian theology exists, or that any of us are going there,” said one former atheist, who was willing to be interviewed anonymously. “Still, when I sit in church and fantasize about McConnell getting all of his chins ripped off every day for all eternity by the teeth one of Satan’s imps, I am overcome by a feeling of numinousness.
“The thought of McConnell getting stabbed repeatedly by pitchforks, or having his testicles smashed continuously by a brimstone brick glowing red-hot with the fires of Hades, just brings me closer to God. Ever prayer I say, and every hymn I sing, makes me firmer in my belief that someday that frog-eyed sack of lying crap will get what he deserves forever.
“I mean, people say that McConnell’s got his head up Trump’s butthole now, but that’s just a figure of speech. In Hell, Satan could actually make it happen, and keep McConnell’s silly-putty looking features wedged up that canyon of hemorrhoids with a spring-loaded slave collar the temperature of molten lead, maximizing the never-ending pain for both of them. Sweet Jesus! I can almost hear the angels sing when I visualize it.
“I know when I go to church I could be surrounded by Republicans, and they could be praying to keep McConnell out of Hell. I’m there to balance that out, by asking God to not only send him there, but to stick a spear the size of a regulation NFL goal post up McConnell’s ass, and shake him around on it like an inflatable tube man at a used car lot for centuries at a time.
“I pity my former fellow nonbelievers, who think that McConnell will just cease to be a point of consciousness when he dies. They are limited to wishing him the most painful death possible, maybe by being stabbed to death slowly with dull Swiss Army knives by a combined mob of illegal aliens, Muslims and transgenders. Or accidentally ingesting some radioactive polonium that Putin was trying to slip to Chuck Schumer.
“But I’ve moved beyond that. I see McConnell gasping for breath while boiled in a vat of his own bullshit for time without end, and it brings me bliss unimaginable.
“You can laugh if you want to, but I never knew what religious ecstasy was, before now.”