man, me, demon
I was at a bar, and a man was talking to me about Jesus.
man: (prosthelyzing) "Jesus is open, and welcomes all who accept Him. Given everything He does...you'd think He'd be overwhelmed by just the sheer volume of riff-raff! But it's not as difficult as you might think."
He gestured at a nearby door--presumably not the door to Jesus's house, but a random door invoked for rhetorical effect.
man: "To get to His door and ask him to take you in means you have to recognize Him first. That alone is a challenge few actually achieve. Even the most devout easily give into their fear and accept their experience as death, so drifting right back into the same patterns of incarnation as before. They never actually get a chance to knock on the door."
me: (chuckling) "Hmmm...that's kind of funny. The idea of Jesus as a business with so few truly legitimate customers, He can take a lot of time off. Probably plays a lot of golf!"
My non-serious reaction to him seemed to frighten him. He looked into my eyes; I tried not to open mine in bed.
man: "Wait...there's...oh my God! There's thousands of you."
The room began to be overrun by a lot of people, one of whom was dressed like a cartoon demon. While the man seemed very panicked, I didn't worry much about it. The demon offered me his hand and I shook it.
demon: (addressing the man) "Hello there! Hey, don't worry, don't worry. I'm not Satan! I'm a Satyr. There's a big difference."
me: (also to the man) "Yeah, I wouldn't worry about...whatever this is. Happens all the time. I'm pretty sure anything that gets destroyed is uploaded. Remember what you said about Jesus, and the experiences people mistake for death?"
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