Rev. Ken DeVries

In the Pure Land, the Clear Light glowed warmly, muddied only by the persistent buzzing of JHVH1. From the Great White Throne of Judgement NENSLO looked out across Cloud Nine, over the endless expanses of the Seventh Heaven filled with the joyous souls of his worshipping servants.

"It really isn't fair, you know," JHVH droned, "and We're sure that if you consider it you'll agree. To continue treating them like that..."

NENSLO held the tiny cage up before his eyes, gazing blankly at the ugly little ex-god, feeling a vast dispassion.

The hideous little bug buzzed on, "They were your friends, you know. They actually liked you, and for you to keep tormenting them like that, it just isn't right!"

"Oh, yes..." NENSLO sighed at last, "YOU tell ME all about what's fair and right. All I've done is left them in the world you created..."

JHVH bristled, tiny lightning bolts shooting from the ends of its flailing tentacles, its million eyes glowing with fury. "That was an ACCIDENT, We've told you and told you!!"

"Yes, a six-day accident! Ooops!" NENSLO's sarcasm struck the tiny alien like a wall of flame.


NENSLO gazed coolly into the fuming ex-deity's very substance, and waited for the misshapen ultradimensional to stabilize. When the smoke cleared he spoke calmly, slowly, as if to a child. "Tell me what you think I should do."

"You should let them come up here like everybody else! The only reason they think they're happy in that fouled-up shit-hole of a universe is because they don't know how miserable they are! You won't LET them know!!"

"I've given them what they always wanted," NENSLO said, his gaze wandering across the limitless sea of worshipping souls, their cries of admiration blending into a soft rushing more comforting than any clanking, crunching avalanche of atoms at the edge of earthly seas. "They have a world full of toys to play in, a world they've always coveted. Am I to blame because their dreams are so small?"

JHVH's insect buzz took on a noxious wheedling tone. "You've cast them adrift in a world of crappy plastic junk! Surely they deserve better than that! Remember how kind they were to you, how they admired you, went out of your way to help you achieve the height of glory which is now yours? Without them, would you be Supreme Lord of Creation as you now are? Hmmm?"

" I don't know what you're getting out of this, you little crippled freak," NENSLO sneered, "but if it's so damned important to you, then I'll do something."

JHVH joyfully squeaked, "Oh praise you, NENSLO! You are indeed most worthy of our worship!" The symphony of admiration from the vast eternity of worshipping souls rose gloriously, filling all heavens with golden sound.

NENSLO smiled, and the way he smiled cast a chill across the worlds. "Perhaps I should have said YOU will do something, YAHwaaay!" He rolled the Name snidely through his sinuses like an insult, and the tiny god shuddered.

"N-no.. no please.." moaned the captive godlet, its mouths trembling, its eyes swimming with tears.

NENSLO growled, "You are going to create again, my foul little chum," and the gleam of his teeth struck JHVH like a lash.

"We can't... Don't make us... We swore after last time we'd never..."

NENSLO reached calmly inside his robe and fumbled in a breast pocket. The assembled multitudes gasped like a world of hurricanes as they saw what he brought forth.

JHVH shrilled feebly, wordlessly at the sight of Its own crucified Son, gripped like a hammer in the vast hand of NENSLO.

Jesus hung sweating and bleeding on his cross, gripped from the waist down in NENSLO's massive fist. "Please, Dad!" he moaned, and all heavens wept at his sorrow, "Please do as he says! For my sake!"

"No... NO!! WE PROMISED!!" JHVH screamed.

"But you were so concerned a few moments ago," NENSLO sneered, his voice the accumulation of all mockery. He tapped on JHVH's cage with the cross. "Now you've changed your mind! WELL YOU'RE GOING TO CREATE, you little ABOMINATION, and you're going to create a Perfect World of the SubGenius for all my little friends on Earth! NOW GET GOING!" He whacked the cross brutally against the iron bars, smashing Jesus against the cruel metal again and again. The heavens recoiled in horror at NENSLO's act, yet somehow loved him all the more.

Shrieking, JHVH began to create.

Six days later it was completed, and NENSLO held it in his hand. "Not bad," he said, and the universes rejoiced. "Now all you have to do is put my friends in there and we're done."

JHVH lay exhausted at the bottom of its cage. "We can't..." It gasped, "We..."

NENSLO placed the glittering universe gently in his lap and seized the cross, waved it threateningly, jolting Jesus cruelly against the rough wood.

JHVH1 sadly complied with this final threat. The SubGenii, Kings and Queens of a wretched crippled world, were transported to a new and perfect universe all their own, a transcendent world of pure perfection and joy, a world the angels envied. The shriveled deity sighed, "It is finished..." and expired forever.

NENSLO shook the tiny cage experimentally but the alien corpse flopped sadly and lay still. "Oh, look, Jesus, your little daddy's dead. Oh, well." As he laughed he failed to see the new universe rolling slowly down a fold in his robe, gaining speed as it headed down the valley between his monumental knees. The multitudes cried out, and he looked down in time to see the lovely thing shoot off his lap and shatter against the crystalline steps leading to his throne. A cry of dismay filled the heavens.

NENSLO cursed.

In mindless fury he cast the Cross of Christ off into the limitless void. After a few moments of furious contemplation, he dumped the cold corpse of JHVH1 from its cage and rose from his throne. He stooped and gently swept the fragments of the Perfect Universe of the SubGenius into the cage, closed the little door and thrust it absently into a pocket. The waves of worship from the infinite souls washed over him and he thought, "Oh well... they'll never know the difference."

The Subgenius only has one glance at its unimaginably ugly world when it eats its way out of its previous body, for the eyes on the bottoms of its feet are slashed at the first step by the razor shards of the eternal plain on which it lives. The death of the body prompts the hatching of the soul-spore from which the new SubGenius grows with full memory of every one of its horrible lives. When it has devoured the festering, poisonous remains of its previous corpse, it begins upon the only other food, its current body. Its blunt, platelike teeth are of little use in separating the rubbery fibers of its twisted limbs, and it may gnaw for years for just one mouthful of its own vile and stringy flesh, remembering every moment of pain from the millions of times it has lived each life before in a cyclic drudgery of horror. Yet amid this world of darkness one light shines, a thought glowing within the beast's tiny brain, the only conscious thought it ever can or will have; " This is perfect... perfect... perfect..."