Emails from Hell, part seventeen.

{beginning of email}

            It was easy for us to find the Chamberlain’s house. It said Chamberlain on the entablature in flashing neon. All the houses looked like the wood frame houses from a medieval village, all crowded together.

            The man who answered the door must have been an impressive piece of work when he was alive. He was tall, fat, and had red hair. He wore gold and silver and silk and jewels and silk and silver and gold. He had a crown on his head. He yelled at Andrew. “Andy, if you weren’t Pete’s brother, I’d have your head struck from your neck. Not that it would do any good, of course. And who is this miserable commoner?”

            [Response omitted]

            “And why should I let this person in to see God?” Then, to me, he said, “Kneel down before me, you loser. Grovel! Don’t you recognize me?”

            “And if I don’t grovel?” I asked.

            “Look, Harry, do I have to remind you each time? I don’t tattle on you when you come down to visit the whorehouse, so you let my guests in for a visit. That’s the deal. Grovel or no grovel.”

            “And no, I don’t recognize you,” I said. “But you look like a king of some kind.”

            “Took him long enough to figure that one out,” said the Chamberlain.

            “And you have a British accent. Harry. Wait! You can’t be…”

            “Oh, yes, he can,” said Andrew.

            I was standing in the presence of King Henry VIII.

            “Isn’t it kind of a step down to be a chamberlain?” I asked him.

            “I’ll brook no disrespect, no disrespect!” He was fuming and out of control. “One word from me and you will…oh, I guess you will not,” Harry said, calming back down. “A step down? Not really. I am second only to God, in Heaven as I was on Earth back when I not only was the head of but when I started the Church of England.”

            “Second to God?” I asked. “Aren’t we forgetting someone?”

            “I’ll explain it when we get back,” Andy said.

            “So, you want to see God? Well, he is a lot like me. He yells a lot, always angry; he has reddish hair; he demands deference from everyone who approaches him; and he has had lots of wives. Like me in all four ways.”

            “Gee,” I said. “I wonder who God could be? Someone who is angry, demands deference, has reddish hair, and lots of wives? And, of course, thinks he’s God.”

{end of email}

Tune in next time to find out who God is!