Pat Robertson finally dies, and gets to the pearly gates. There, he's greeted by St. Peter himself.
"Pat Robertson?" asked St. Peter. "Is that you?"
"Yes, St. Peter. It is I, your humble servant."
"We've been expecting you," said St. peter. "Come this way, come this way."
"Before we move on," said Ol' Pat. "I gotta know. Are all the queers in hell?"
"Yes, not to worry," said St. Peter. "All the gay people are in hell."
Pat breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good. That's where they belong."
So St. Peter led Pat down a long road, and as they walked they passed bigger and bigger houses. Places that made earthly mansions look small in comparison. And as they walked, Pat was feeling really good about himself. He realized St. Peter must be taking him to one of the biggest houses in all of heaven.
They finally come to the end of the road, and on the side is the biggest mansion of them all. Hundreds of stories high, with gold and diamonds and rubies.
"Is this my house?" asked Pat, a little taken aback. Surely this was the greatest house in all of heaven.
But St. Peter shook his head. "No, your destination is yet ahead."
Pat couldn't believe it. He knew he had been such a godly person on earth, and brought many people to god, and collected a lot of money. But he couldn't believe he was getting a nicer mansion than that.
"Right through here," said St. Peter.
And as Pat stepped through the door, he could feel the heat intensify. It got really hot--and he realized where he was.
"This is hell!" he said.
St. Peter nodded. "Just where you belong."
"With all the gays?" asked Pat Robertson.
St. Peter nodded again. "Why else do you think they're here? It's their turn to torture you this week. The Atheists get next week."
"Pat Robertson?" asked St. Peter. "Is that you?"
"Yes, St. Peter. It is I, your humble servant."
"We've been expecting you," said St. peter. "Come this way, come this way."
"Before we move on," said Ol' Pat. "I gotta know. Are all the queers in hell?"
"Yes, not to worry," said St. Peter. "All the gay people are in hell."
Pat breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good. That's where they belong."
So St. Peter led Pat down a long road, and as they walked they passed bigger and bigger houses. Places that made earthly mansions look small in comparison. And as they walked, Pat was feeling really good about himself. He realized St. Peter must be taking him to one of the biggest houses in all of heaven.
They finally come to the end of the road, and on the side is the biggest mansion of them all. Hundreds of stories high, with gold and diamonds and rubies.
"Is this my house?" asked Pat, a little taken aback. Surely this was the greatest house in all of heaven.
But St. Peter shook his head. "No, your destination is yet ahead."
Pat couldn't believe it. He knew he had been such a godly person on earth, and brought many people to god, and collected a lot of money. But he couldn't believe he was getting a nicer mansion than that.
"Right through here," said St. Peter.
And as Pat stepped through the door, he could feel the heat intensify. It got really hot--and he realized where he was.
"This is hell!" he said.
St. Peter nodded. "Just where you belong."
"With all the gays?" asked Pat Robertson.
St. Peter nodded again. "Why else do you think they're here? It's their turn to torture you this week. The Atheists get next week."
The whole tone of Church teaching in regard to woman is, to the last degree, contemptuous and degrading. - Elizabeth Cady Stanton