Satire

Michele Bachmann’s sit-down VIP meeting with God

Michele Bachmann is asking God if she should run for Al Franken’s seat.

He’s busy. Of course He’s busy. He’s always busy. And Michele knew that, she really did. But she scheduled this talk with God weeks ago, and she still hadn’t seen him yet.

The office was palatial, with every square inch was covered in gold and diamonds. It was classy, tasteful, very reflective of the teachings of the gospel. Michele could at least appreciate the Christian decor as she waited.

“This way,” a voice said from above Michele. She stood up, closed DIVINE YACHTS AND BEACH CLUBS magazine, and followed the office assistant, who was decked out in Versace and in great shape. They walked by a man in a flashy cowboy outfit who immediately started trailing the office assistant.

“Get out of here, Roy. There’s nothing left for you,” the office assistant sneered.

Sliding doors closed behind the office assistant and Michele as they continued walking, leaving a crying Roy Moore behind. The office assistant heaved a big sigh.

“He just will not go away,” the assistant complained, and Michele laughed because nobody likes Roy Moore.

A door to a corner office opened. Michele was ushered inside. She sat down and the chair behind the desk swiveled, revealing the most stunning and devoutly religious woman anyone has ever seen. On the desk the name HOLY SPIRIT shone in silver and platinum.

“There’s been a mistake,” Michele said, standing up. “I was supposed to meet with Jesus Christ.”

“Yes, He’s busy. Some earthquake in South America, and people are praying for the children, you know. So you’ll meet with me instead.”

Michele tried to hide her frustration — weeks ago she had set up this meeting, and to leave without notice was so unprofessional — and smiled as she sat back down.

“This is a big job, you know,” Michele said pointedly. “I’m trying to take a Democrat’s seat in a purple state.”

“Yes, and Jesus almost met with you instead, but He’s a sucker for the children. I would say it’s a fault of His, but He’s God, so He doesn’t have any.  Shall we get started?”

Michele nodded. The Holy Spirit pulled out a file.

“Okay! So. Should you run for Senate? That is the question. What are your credentials?”

“I was in the House of Representatives for-”

“Ugh. Boring. Next.”

“I was a founder of the Tea Party movement and a strong Trump supporter.”

“Keep going,” the Holy Spirit nodded as She took notes.

“I will do everything I can to make abortion illegal.”

“Sure.”

“I will fight for a Christian’s right to legally discriminate against the LGBT community and play the victim the entire time.”

“Excellent. And?”

“Family values?”

“Good. And?”

Getting the HPV vaccine will make you retarded.”

This gave the Holy Spirit pause.

“What is your proof of this?”

“One time a mother came up to me and told me a story.”

“Hm,” the Holy Spirit said as she tapped her pen. “I’m just trying to think. Do we want to keep up with that level of crazy? It didn’t work for Roy Moore.”

“I haven’t touched any little girls nor reminisced fondly about slavery.”

“Your restraint is truly remarkable, and that’s exactly where the bar is for us these days. Okay, Michele. Okay. Do it. Do it for God. For Christianity.”

Michele yelped in excitement, bowed deeply to the Holy Spirit, and skipped out of the office. The office assistant came back, eyebrow raised.

“Was that a good idea?” the assistant asked. The Holy Spirit shrugged.

“Meetings with me don’t count anyway. Now let’s get out of here. We have to imbue some snake-charming preachers with the power of Me in twenty minutes.”

Featured image via YouTube

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