Skyblade (skyblade) wrote in not_that_potc,

The Wall: Checkered Flags and Yellow Fever

Chick's newest tract! As we all strive to be the best, we must remember; no one is better than God. He is the Grand Prix referee, who has marked the ultimate finish line. We will all eventually get there, and every one of us has a chance to win a prize of eternal salvation…save those who go astray, and find themselves burning in Hellfire after hitting…the wall. Can our two protagonists, despite being strong competitors out to be the best, mutually share a special kind of cup--The Jesus Class Cup?

Love is a wonderful thing. But sometimes dangerous. Here now is the story of how lust for victory, and lust for lust, can take everything you‘ve worked for and throw it off course. Here is a cautionary tale how dangerous love can be. Just be warned, you might want to come back to reading the tract an hour after you read it.

A nostalgic look at moonshiners. So, we meet someone who illegally produces beer and races from the cops with a child in his care. Is this going to be a story explaining how to raise a family? About how liquoring up is against the law? Perhaps not, as J.J., the kid with the really bad haircut, vows to one day beat feet of his own. However, J.J. doesn't seem to really care about the bootlegging aspect of it, as he's just standing there while his grandpa is exerting himself over an open flame. Geez, Jack, can't you do a track about helping the elderly with their substance smuggling?

Oh sure, they’re a family who tends illegally produce alcoholic substances that are so shoddy in its make, that consuming probably rendered their buyers near-death with diseases. Yes, the Grandfather put the boy at risk every time he took him on a high speed chase from the cops. But it’s still a family with values, dagnabbit! You know, it probably wasn't a good idea for Granny to put the ceremony, such as it is, off for too long. The cops can come in at any time, putting JJ in the care of some secular Foster family. They might even give him a normal haircut. What might be heaven for you folks, could be Hell on the children. Anyways, God is one day going to use J.J. Now, if that isn't an aspiration in life, I plum don't know what is.

JJ has vowed to grow up into the world of drag racing. You can see Granny's heart breaking a little. It's obvious from the haircut she was giving him she was hoping he'd grow up to be a nice Norman Warlord. It's a world similar to one he grew up with--less illegal, but no less filled by the presence of alcohol. Just as long as he’s ready to spread the word a quarter mile at a time, Granny can know her life wasn’t wasted. J.J. puts his need for God-Blessed speed to good use early in his life, racing other bumpkins in their run down vehicles that reek of corn-squeezed beverages. He becomes rookie of the year in the dirt racing circuit. Yeah, I know, there are only four of them at a time, and three of them are inebriated and terrible drivers, but we all need the little confidence boosters.

Anyways, J.J. works hard and earns the very Christian title of… the Eliminator. He's so beloved, pro-wrestlers choose not to sue his ass for stealing the name. (There is a Pro-Wrestler with that name, right?) In any case, he attains what we all should in life--sycophants and a material validation of our efforts. Aren't trophies sort of like idols, come to think of it? I myself worship the all-mighty trophy. They give me so much. I drink out of them, store my change, or even fashion myself a "trophy bong". My gold/silver/bronze lord works in mysterious ways. However, while many adore J.J. across the land (or at least the land of Confederate flags) young Kit from California (which you know is trouble, with all the show business, gay marriages and health food.) sees J.J. as merely an obstacle. When he's racing in soap boxes, he's picturing himself beating J.J. When he's carving the Thanksgiving turkey, he's imagining carving up J.J. On prom night, he's seeing himself lose his virginity to J.J. Hey, don't judge him just because you don't have the same will to win.

Kit himself earns a fancy racin' moniker; He is referred to as the "California Kid". Because there are no other professional racers from California. He wins every single race they hold that year. Even the ones he wasn't invited to. He just gets in his Archie-Comics looking jalopy and crashes the party. Everyone's in such awe they just throw him the prize anyways. Both racers are forces to be reckoned with, the point where every corporation with an intelligible logo wants them to display the languageless message proudly! But you're still the circuit's number two, Kit, and if you don't watch out, J.J.‘s going to flush you down God's toilet.

It turns out one draws power from the lord in order to witness. You know, I always wondered how people were able to get up so early on Saturday morning and bother me. Anyways, it appears J.J. needs to take action soon, before California here signs any more autographs. Or at least autographs that say "Your friend Kit! Stay In School, at Least Until They Start teaching Evolution!" Of course, now we're introduced to a complication. Kit is married to a beautiful minority(gasp!). Meet Kim Lee. Why's her name Kim Lee? Because she's Asian, naturally. She's his best fan, too (read: groupie)! She's an ambitious one, that Kim Lee. She so desperately wanted to get into this tract, she changed her name to the most generic Asian name she could think of. Like all beautiful women who aren't blonde, I don't trust her.

Kit may be able to defy death, but he can't defy screwing up. In fact, it seems there's a pretty horrible crash involved, as more than one racer dies. I know it's a dangerous profession and everything, but there can't be a fatality at every single event, can there? I think I see smaller mortality rates for professional glass eaters. Kit’s simply tempting fate by putting his life in God’s hands, with the seal of the Holy Boozeswaggler to protect him.

77 just isn’t his lucky number. Kit just loses control. Well obviously Kit isn’t the type to possess much control to begin with. If he had any, he’d be with a nice Midwestern girl who wears sleeves and doesn’t have demonic cat eyes. By the way, lady, it's seriously impolite to point your finger into Brian Dennehy’s
word balloons. He brought his very best turtleneck to the race track, and he doesn’t appreciate interruptions. But what does it matter, anyways? Kit’s going to die without ever knowing the glory of being saved! If only there were a higher power who could do something like this--defy all laws of logic just to make a point..

The Eliminator is an impudent one. You say "please" when addressing the supreme being thank you very much. Look at that leg, it’s on fire. Better put out with a jacket or something, J.J. Or pray to God to remove all the oxygen from Kit’s leg. Whatever you do.

Not "could have been" in there, Kit. "Was" in there. For a racer, you sure ain't fast. Your California cowboy antics have cost a car its life--but not is soul. Look that the tire going up to heaven! It's beautiful! Once again, J.J. seems to need to ask God to witness him. Like there will be a big flaming sword in front of his hospitable room. I wonder if sometimes God says "Nah, don't extol the word of me, just yet. They're having an orgy on Saturday, which I can see with my omniscience and everything. Don't be a buzzkill."

Kit suffers only from second degree burns. Despite the fact his leg was on fire. What's you secret, son? Kit's too mean to die. Yeah buddy, you just got dragged out by some old guy. And you got third degree burns. You'll be let out tomorrow. That does not exactly qualify you for meanness. In fact, that doesn't even qualify you for rakishness. People who are too mean to die usually take a little more punishment. Then again, the leg. Perhaps Kit has such a surly disposition, fire is simply too afraid to burn him. How about standing up in the bed a little bit, you wuss?

In fact, he's so mean he immediately thanks J.J. He's rebel without reigns, that Kit. J.J. explains it wasn’t the him who saved him, but the Lord. Sure, the same Lord that put him the fiery accident to begin with, but that’s However, it appears the exotic love of Kit's life is going to be a barrier. They don’t need his prayers. How awful. Sure, Kit’s not actually that bad, and he’s merely being kept overnight for observation, but still, maybe those second degree burns will become infected by unclean asphalt, causing Kit’s limbs to fall off, his eyes to fall odd, and the gorgeous blonde locks to fall out! What then, Kim Lee? What then?

Kit’s all ears…for now. I imagine people talk about risking their lives pretty often. I think J.J.'s sort of wrong about the whole "none talks about it" gossip. I think it's a pretty common subject of discussion. Especially since that wall of doom seems to eat up racers like potato chips.

I don't think Kit believes nothing happens when you die. Judging, it sounds like J.J.‘s nickname should be "The Laws between Church and State Eliminator". I have to tell you. If you're so down with the word the other NASCAR people make fun of you for it, you are pretty loony. Unless it's one of those racing fronts that are especially popular with the blue staters. You know, those

I'm pretty sure Kit has to have heard of Hell before. I mean, we all see those Looney Tunes episodes where Yosemite Sam gets sent to the Underworld. We know that axe wielding. You don't have to do anything to get into Hell. Well, that's good, I guess. At least I can take it easy. Oh sure, there's maggots and everything, but I’m a type B personality. Whatever happens happens.

Ooh, it's bait and switch time! Kit points out a loving God wouldn't just be sending his children into the flames. Kit makes the point Heaven would be empty. Empty of Chinese bitches, which for Kit, that in itself must be devoid. J.J. asks Kit if he's every heard of Christ. Hey, you never know. Anyways, J.J. imparts Kit with the knowledge that Jesus was not just a man, but truly divine. You see, he grew up in Calee-foruni-yay, where it's taught in schools that Jesus was just a man. A carpenter. And a merely adequate one at that. (You never see any renaissance paintings of Christ building a table, come to think of it. I think I'd like to see that.)

Jesus rose from the dead. And he didn't even need to be a very, very bad driver to do it. Kit seems to be unaware that all this time, Christ was the only way into heaven. If you knew J.J. was a bible thumper, what did you think he was going to say? "Jesus--or Judaism...Islam...the Hindu faith...Snake-Handling...hey it's all good, boo!" Nope, this is a God who will take his toys and go home. And now you know. See, the thing about Jesus is, he's the Son of God and the one true way--but he's a little sensitive. Just ask him to be saved and he'll do it. But you need to let him know--he can't read minds. Well, he can, but still...

JJ asks him not to put it off. Come on, if time was of the essence, why did you wait until he was out of hospital? Hell, why did you wait until he was in an accident the first time? Seriously, is everyone else but you supposed to put do it ASAP? However, we run into a dilemma. Heathens from the East are nice to look at, but what use is mesmerizing salt-of-the-Earth boys with your horizontal vagina is you can’t make them forsake all that is good and true with it? Kim makes the ultimatum; her or Jesus. I know it seems like such a bitchy thing to do, but she just put on her geisha outfit and made such delicious Dalmatian lo mien for her husband.

The day of the big race. I find it hard to believe someone as accident prone as Kit could have gotten this far in the circuit. Seriously, two crashes in three days. I'm seriously not an expert on race cars, but I doubt you can get your car damaged that many times and still be considered good at your job. In fact, I have no idea what kind of trajectory those cars were going in if there was a three-way fender bender. Perhaps it wasn't such a wise strategy for Kit, who was in second place, to crash into cars that were behind both J.J. and he. In truth, the Godless work in mysterious ways. Or maybe we're dealing with a vengeful God, who doesn't like it when you try to mess with his moon shining champions. Time to meet Jesus, who he rejected. Uh-oh, totally awkward. Like, there was this time a girl who turned me down for the prom was my waitress. Heh, heh, I'm sorry, can you take this back. it's totally not what I ordered

God is a jealous bitch. Kim Lee didn't die on the cross. Sure, but does the almighty really love you long time? Even if he doesn’t, she sure does damn you long time. Actually, I need to point out that you need to stop going on about the whole "I died for you" thing because, while it was a sweet gesture and all--you came back to life. You got better. You really can't brag about it just because other people don't have magical back from the dead powers. Kit, showing his natural gift for being the sharpest tack, asks "am I going to Hell." No, Kit, you're going to Oriental Poona heaven. It's like...a buffet. Yes Kit, you're going to hell, being thrown into the lake of fire prepared for the Devil and his minions. And boy will that suck. The devil hates it when people are using stuff that was prepared for him.

One way trip to Hell. So, what did God end up using JJ for? Why, to make himself feel good about sending people to Hell, of course! The moral of the story is, no matter how hard you try, if God doesn't cotton to the cut of your jib, he'll make you lose with death.
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