Dissolution Be Damned, Part VI: After the Fall

You Cannot Weasel Out of a Deal with Gods

by the Man-Maid

Man-Maid sat in the living room of a friend, enjoying the warmth of Jesus' picture on the wall and feeling good about such enjoyment, for he always worried that Jesus would detest him for being such a pansy pervert, for making contracts with demons, and then trying to welch on the deal.

There was no juking Satan, he learned. He prayed to the Virgin May intervene for him, because she was the Mother of them all--Jesus, Lucifer, God, the Man-Maid, and the female chattel bound by the agreement too.

As it turned out, Man-Maid would always be bound by that contract, for mortal-man's court-decrees have no jurisdiction in angelic realms which meant that MM's second divorce didn't change a thing. He must continue to care for his property, and uphold it.

Jesus didn't seem mad at all. The man housekeeper relaxed, and didn't even mention the historical inaccuracy of a white-man Jesus. His mind was always going back to same place though

How could I let myself fall in love with such a trouble-child? She had plenty of baggage: three kids, three daddies, terrible grammar, and the popular culture of 13-year-old hotties. Purple hair streaks and purple language.

But somehow, her honesty redeemed everything. She let her rebel soul hang out, and her cleavage. She gave wild sex, freaky as he wanted it--but sometimes right in the middle she would turn into a different person. Or turn to a different person. Did she know what she was doing?

The long and the short of it is that I am still married in the eyes of the Virgin Mary, Satan, Lucifer, Jesus, Jehovah, and all the rest of them.  Meanwhile, my divine wife has come undone and seems to be deteriorating.  I blame myself for being such a conventional pussy.  Henceforth, the story will change.