The Rock from Hell

I suspect the same cowardly servant of the dark lord who threw a rock over my wall with a note tied to it, also sprayed graffiti on my wall. I was walking around the garden inspecting Liberty's work from the day before, when I came across the offending piece of masonry -- forged in hell, no doubt, and hurled from the wicked hand of one of Satan's scornful servants. I can't repeat what was written on the note -- even I was shocked, and I've personally penned some of the most hate-filled curses against God's enemies in my imprecatory psalms.

Without repeating the exact evil words, I'll simply give you the gist of it's diabolical slander . . .

The demonic author of the devilish note has obviously been reading my blog and had the audacity to insinuate that I read porn in my secret bunker, that I am a slave owner, and that I terrorise innocent children. Moreover, the sinner suggested that I may be psychotic and present a distorted view of Christianity that would even dissuade Jesus from being a Christian. Blasphemy of the highest order! People like this should be publicly executed, but not with a wasted bullet. Burn 'em, I say. Or seen as he likes to throw rocks over the walls of godly Christian people, he could be stoned like they did in the good old Bible days.

I took a stroll beyond the walls of my fortress after I had digested -- and almost puked twice -- this evil diatribe aimed to rattle me (I admit I was a bit shaken at first, but I recited one of my psalms and felt invincible almost immediately). And then I saw it, scribbled on the outside wall: Paintball Pete Loves Porn!

I almost lost control of my bowels like I did all those years ago in Hillbrow.

After Liberty repainted the wall with five coats and I recited all 234 imprecatory psalms loudly in the street, I called a family prayer meeting and we asked God to rain down fire on the satanic pervert who dared defile my holy sanctuary. My favourite Bible story to tell my kids before I tuck them in is the one about the reprobate youths who jeered at the prophet Elisha and called him a baldhead. He called down a curse on them and two bears came out the woods and tore 42 kids to pieces. (And they think my exploding bunnies were over the top!) You can read this superb Sunday school lesson in 2 Kings 2:23-25.

I don't mind fire or bears, by the way. Both at the same time would really get the message across.

I also double-checked to see if the sicko graffiti artist had somehow managed to break into my secret bunker and plundered my stock, but it was all secure. I had to page through each magazine and watch every last video again to make sure there were no hidden messages left there, or signs of tampering, but it all appears clean. As clean as filth can get, I mean.

Fight the good fight. And watch the news for reports of a bear mauling someone to death.