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X  ________                   ____  ___                                     X
X  \______ \   _   _ _ __ ___ \   \/  /               The Test              X
X   |    |  \ | | | | '__/ _ \ \     /           -----------------          X
X   |    `   \| |_| | | |  __/ /     \           by Wally Acapesak          X
X  /_______  / \__,_|_|  \___|/___/\  \                                     X
Xxxxxxxxxxx\/  Blender Corporation  \_/xxxxxxx[DBC011(IKGD)-WA.930122]xxxxxxX

     					
     Randall was skeptical, to say the least.  Ever since he was a small boy,
he had kicked stray cats, spat upon adult administrative personnel, sworn
that he was planning the death of a local game-show hostess, sat on his
little brother, absorbed several not-at-all-natural drugs into his
bloodstream, and used contraceptives in the firm belief that there was no
God.  He had acquired a few friends over the years, and most of these friends
had befriended him for the simple reason that they had no friends of their
own.  Still, they had always detected a sadistic, irreligious theme
throughout all of Randall's shenanigans.  And now they planned to do
something about it.

     The heavy burlap bag that Randall was in writhed and rolled around on
the sidewalk outside the local Authoritarian Denominational Denomination
Church.  At first, the chloroform stolen from chemistry lab had done wonders
to Randall's personality, turning him into an inert lump of flesh; now he was
awake again, though, and Jesse and Michael had to keep kicking him to subdue
his efforts.  "If he's to see God, we'll probably have to take him out of the
bag.", said Jesse, displaying his ever-present acumen.

     Michael nodded in agreement, but replied, "We'll have to take him in
first, though, and bar the door somehow." Michael always came up with the
best plans.  In fact, it was he who had thought of using the burlap bag
rather than the plastic garbage bag they had originally acquired for the
task.

     The door opened slowly, with a tremendous, ancient squeal, and the musty
church air swarmed about Jesse and Michael as they dragged their friend
inside.  "Aaaaaaah!" cried Randall as his head trundled over a bump in the
stone-tiled floor.

     "That won't do you any good, Randall.", said Jesse with an air of
moronic confidence.  "You'll have to wait in there until we're ready for you
to see God."

     "Whuffff!?" cried Randall, his voice muffled by the barely porous bag.

     Jesse did not respond to Randall's inquiry, mainly because he could make
no sense of it.  Michael did not respond because he was busy shoving a
sluggish wooden pew in front of the door.  This may seem to be an activity
disapproved of by the church, and it may be justified to wonder why they were
being allowed to do such a thing in the Condominium of the Lord.  The fact
was, they were the only ones there; they had especially timed their plan to
coincide with a church holiday; the fact that there was a church holiday
meant that everybody got the day off from church.

     The doors were barred, and Randall's struggling body was lying in the
center of the church aisle, several yards from the altar.  "Let him out.",
commanded Michael, huffing and wiping away his hard-earned sweat.  Jesse
obeyed unquestioningly and untied the neck of the sack, allowing Randall to
bounce out and writhe around on the ground some more.  At least this time he
was able to writhe without burlap all around him.  Still, around his hands
and feet were strung bindings of rag.  "Why am I here?" he said, his voice
shaking with indignance.

     "You should have thought to ask yourself that before, Randall.", said
Michael.  "Now listen, we've seen you throw your afterlife away just causing
all the immoral trouble you can, and we're about fed up with it.  So we're
going to sit here until you see the Lord." Michael pursed his lips with
self-satisfied smugness and sat down on the edge of pew.

     Jesse coughed and said, "Sorry about the treatment, Randall.  Sometimes
you have to do extreme things, you see?"

     Randall simply stared at Jesse, his voice having taken a vacation.

     "I really do hope you understand why we're doing this.  I assure you,
you'll appreciate it once it's over."

     Thoughts of smacking his friends' heads together crossed Randall's
violent mind, but he tried to restrain his own basic impulses so he could
rationally deal with the situation.  "I'm sure I will, Jess'.  But I think I
already understand.  I see now that I've been doing things the wrong way."
His face assumed an expression of contrition.  Jesse looked at Randall, then
looked at Michael.  Michael shook his head cynically.

     "No, I'm afraid that won't do it, Randall.", said Michael.  "We'll be
able to tell when you really see Him."

     So the three friends settled into their respective positions for the
beginning of the long night...

     Eventually Randall concluded that he would have to do something to free
himself from this predicament.  He would have to convince his oppressing
friends that he was seeing God.  This strain of realization led him to begin
speaking in a mystified tone, a tone just loud enough for Jesse and Michael
to hear.  "Is that you?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound sincere.
"Is that God up there?" Jesse was in a state of half-awakeness, and he
stirred himself fully awake when he heard Randall mention God.  He began to
watch Randall intently and nudged Michael to wake up.

     "He's saying something about God.", Jesse whispered to Michael.  Michael
opened his eyes and sat up in a jolting, sudden movement.

     "Hello?" Randall continued, his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling in a
lost gaze.  "I'm really quite surprised to see you there, but as long as I've
got you for a few minutes, I was wondering if you might help me a bit." Jesse
and Michael leaned in closer to observe Randall, who pretended not to notice
them.  "I'm hoping to prove your existence to myself, since everybody says
you're there.  I mean, I think I'm seeing you, but how can I be sure you're
the genuine thing, you know?" He pretended to wait for a response.  "Good, so
I want to ask you this: if you're all-powerful, can you tear your own arm
off?"

     Michael stared in dumbfounded confusion; Jesse listened with intent
concern, as if what Randall was saying was not only understandable, but also
vitally important.  "I mean really, if you're that strong, I think you could
do it.  Wouldn't you think that?" Randall waited for God to answer and then
continued speaking.  "Right, so if you wouldn't mind proving it by showing
me, I'd be much obliged, and so would my friends here." Jesse smiled happily
upon being referred to as a friend, but Michael continued to find himself
dumb.

     Randall's eyes expanded into saucer-shapes.  "Wow!  That must've hurt!
So you really can do it!"

     "Gee.", said Jesse, nodding in agreement with Randall's declarations,
though he could see none of what Randall was describing.

     "Now try a leg.", suggested Randall to his absent god.  "Wow!" he
exclaimed again.  "I'm beginning to believe you!  Try the other leg."

     Michael was beginning to become convinced, too.  He was staring at the
ceiling, trying to fathom what Randall was seeing.  "He DOES see Him.", he
said in awe.

     Suddenly Randall turned to Jesse and Michael, or turned as best he could
under the restraints of his rag-binds.  He was shaking his head, as if in
dawning understanding.  "I never believed it before, but I guess he really
was there.  I guess He really did exist."

     "DID exist?" asked Jesse and Michael simultaneously.

     "Yes,", replied Randall, "I tested him by asking him to tear himself
apart, and he did."

     "So?" asked Michael angrily.  "That means he exists!"

     "Yes,", replied Randall again in his same confident air, "and I believed
him, but he tore himself up."

     Jesse said in a pathetic, empty voice, "He's torn up?"

     "Yup.", confirmed Randall, relishing the revenge that disillusionment
was bringing upon his friends.  "Now if you'd untie me..."

     Both Jesse and Michael were slowly contemplating the abrupt end to God.
Jesse felt particularly disappointed as he released the bonds from Randall's
hands and realized that he'd no longer be able to say, "God Bless You.", or
"Thank God." Randall got up from the cold stone floor of the church and left
as soon as he could.

     God had been tested, and the outcome had become a victory of belief and
a defeat of existence.  Jesse and Michael proceeded to spend the rest of
their night wandering about, looking for a bridge from which they could jump
to end their now meaningless lives, while Randall went back to his perverted
sexual practices, illicit drug use, and homicidal plans.


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 xX Copyright (C) 1993 by The Durex Blender Corporation & Wally Acapesak  Xx
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