The sound of her grinding teeth was so unpleasant that Mike Conner felt a tingle run down his spine as he struggled to hold the seventeen-year-old girl down. Mike and Bill were exorcists, not dentists; the damage to her molars would be permanent.

“In the name of the most high God…” An unearthly shriek erupted from the teenager, and splattered Mikes face with saliva and bits of teeth. Bill laid hands on the victim.
“By the power of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I command you to leave this girl!”

Instantly, the young woman fell back into the comforter. They left the girl in a heap on the bed, her sobbing the only thanks they received. Mike fumbled for his car keys. “God really didn’t like that girl too much. Did you hear her gnashing her teeth? He doesn’t normally let them go that far.”

Bill brushed off his robes, “and I’m sure that you are qualified to comment on the Lords love – you being his favorite son and all.”

“Why do you have to be such an ass like that?”

Bill instantly regretted what he had said, not because he disagreed with the statement, but because he really sounded like a hick when he said it. Billy Joel Brown was raised in the country outside Birmingham Alabama. He rebelled against his Southern Baptist parents when he decided to become a priest. Embarrassed by his unintelligent sounding southern accent, he often spoke with the haughty air of an actor trying out for a guest appearance on Fraser. This didn’t work, and he knew it.

Mike slammed the door of his black ‘66 Pontiac GTO after he slid into the drivers seat. Even after three years of dwelling on the thought, it still pissed him off when Bill brought up his relationship with the Lord. He knew that God loved him, but love is a choice not a feeling. It’s true that God loved him, but Mike new all to well that God didn’t like him very much. The fact that he was still breathing was proof of that.

His parents were strong Christians whose single flaw was spoiling their only son a little too much. Like most children in that situation, Mike Conner didn’t appreciate it, and he flew in the face of his upstanding parents by falling into the Goth scene. He painted his nails black and wrote poems about death. His actions confused his parents so much that they nearly allowed lives to fall apart in a never-ending struggle to win their wayward son back. In the summer of ’94, Mike finally got to experience death first hand. A cracked out burglar broke into his family’s home and killed his parents while they slept. The cops never found the man, and Mike was forced to live with the mystery of why he was overlooked that night, and why his parents had to die so a junkie could steal enough jewelry to pay for his next hit.

Two years passed, Mike turned 19, and he met the love of his life. She was beautiful, smart, and rich. Her only flaw was that she continually nagged Mike and tried to get him to go to church. A couple of years later, Mike convinced his wife that they should invest in the Los Angeles Xtreme. At first the idea of the XFL sounded like a great one, and Mike even got his wife onboard. They poured all of their savings into the franchise. After the first game, where Mike’s wife overheard him explain to a buddy that the only reason he was interested in investing in the XFL was because of his dream to get a lap dance in the stands by one of the cheerleaders, she sold all their stock. Because the network ratings for the first game were twice what was expected, Mike and his wife made a nice profit. When the XFL failed, miserably, Mike’s wife proclaimed that God, not Mike’s sick fantasy, saved them from financial ruin. That winter, Mike convinced his wife that a new Corvette would be just the thing God wanted in their life. To make sure that she knew what she was missing, Mike sent his wife with the car dealer on the first test drive. As they pulled onto the highway, a semi blew a front tire and slammed into them. The dealer and Mike’s wife were pronounced dead onsite.

Bill got into the passengers side of the car and pulled on his seatbelt. Mike revved up the engine and dumped the clutch. He was still mad, so he tried to burn up some aggression with the tires. They flew down the little street and nearly hit a car pulling out of a driveway. Bill dug his fingers into the seat, “shit, you’re going to get us killed!”

“If we were only so lucky!”

“Don’t start with that again! You’re an idiot! You have no idea what it means to believe!”

“Those who live righteous lives, and fall into Gods good graces are taken up into Heaven! Do you really think that God would let anyone he truly likes spend another day in this shit hole you call Earth? I have every idea what it means to believe! You can’t argue with the logic. I have seen it first hand. God is up there, and he is orchestrating everything. He took my parents into his arms as soon as they began to get a taste of the reality of this world. He gave my wife a rich, fulfilling life, and then he carried her home before she could have the chance to grow old and ugly. Yet, he refused to let me enter into his mansion three times! And if that is not enough proof, I could remind you about how my wife, a godly woman, was probably the only one who made money off the XFL. If that does not make you believe, then nothing will.”

“Do you know what your problem is? You are a self centered, egotistical, little two year old who thinks he understands the whole world because he just learned to take a shit on the big boy potty. You can’t accept that there is more then you can comprehend in this existence!”

“Let me guess, you can comprehend this existence, because you had a divine vision. Think about it for a second, why would Mary come to you in a dream and tell you that you should stop worshiping her? Wouldn’t it make more cense if God told you to stop worshiping Mary? Are you sure that was a prophesy and not just an undigested piece of meet or a spot of mustard?”

“Watch your tongue! I was shown the truth in a holy vision. It was not just a divine lecture. I did not receive a holy scorning for worshiping improperly. I was taught to believe. It was the most real thing I have ever experienced in my life.”

“I wish my lesson had been that easy. By the way, I’m sure that the redneck being interviewed by the Weekly World News would tell you that seeing Bigfoot was the ‘most real thing he had ever experienced’ too.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. You’re right. Everyone needs to try, and fail, to kill themselves three times in order to realize that God is truly in charge of the affairs of men.”

The two drove on in silence for almost an hour. The sun was starting to set as they pulled up to a dilapidated house in the ghetto. The Mexican family who lived there hurried them to the back room. The tv was tuned to a Spanish channel and the volume was turned all the way up. It was obvious that the residents just wanted to drown out the screams of the middle-aged man duct taped to a filthy old Lazy Boy. Mike and Bill placed their hands on the man who smelled like he had not bathed in a week. “In the name of the Most High God.” The man began convulsing like he was having a seizure, and the chair creaked under his weight. “By the power of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I command you to leave this man!” The man opened his eyes like he had just woken up from a bad dream and began questioning his family in Spanish. They rushed to him and began pulling off the tape. In the midst of all the commotion, no one noticed the two exorcists slip out the front door. As they got into the car, Bill took off his hat, “as usual, that was easy.”

Mike started the car, “yeah, just once I wish it were a little more like the movies.”

Bill smiled, “I guess the guys in the movies don’t truly believe.”

Mike chuckled, “maybe they just need a vision.”

“Or perhaps they should just try to kill themselves.”

They both laughed as the car accelerated and pulled onto the highway.