My Sacrifice

Jacob Wrestles the Angel, by Paul Gauguin, 1888
Originally uploaded by steakbellie.

I did it
I defeated Senator Rick Santorum.

He is a Dragoon of the Apocolyspe but with a big nose and bad hair, He is a loudmouth surrogate for el presidente, he is a liar and a fraud.

As it turns out, God doesnt like him either. I had a dream in which I was to wrestle an angel. His name was Larry. He broke my arm and healed it. He broke it again.

"Stop That!!"
"What?!" The Angel says with a cruel smile

"Let us contest a different sport" I demand
"Sure, whatever.." says the Angel looking at his watch and wondering how much longer this dream would last.

"If I beat you, can I have a free wish?"
"If it's about you and Angelina Jolie again, you can forget it" scolds the Angel.

some silence

"OK I have a new wish" I say
Larry The Angel turns dark and serious. I notice he was smoking a cigarette.
"I'm not really supposed to do this, but I only have one more thing to do today. Not too many people dream of wrestling Angels anymore ya know.

If you win, you're still going to have to pay a heavy price to get your wish...I'm not shiting you, nothing's free."

I nod my head with understanding.
"So what's this Contest you wanna have with me" the Angel confidently inquired.
"Hold on...let me get my Kilt"

Eight minutes later I hold the world record for competitive eating Mana. 10.5lbs compared to Larry's measly 3lbs. Larry's holding his stomach, sweating and leaning against the table. His wings droop abit and he seems perplexed by the experience.

"You had me beat, but you kept eating right up to the end...why?
"I was afraid Joey Chestnut might show up"
"Oh" says the Angel with a nod.

He furrows his brow like a man trying to recall details from last nights drinking binge.
"Who were those guys in the funny hats?"
"The Shea Brothers, it's their job to run these things"
"Even in a Dream?"
"They kinda have a lock on the Sport I guess"

Larry isnt looking to good.
"Lets get this over with kid, what do you want for your wish"
"I want Rick Santorum to go away"
Larry looks better for a few moments and smiles broadly with a cruelty similar to when he was breaking my arm.
"You're stupid. You should have wished for money or good personality. God, totaly thinks Santorum is an Asshole and sent me down here to make sure he lost the election and to give him the Herpes."
"Ewww" I snear
"You blew your wish, dumbass...and you still have to pay the price!"

Without thinking I punch the Angel in the belly and he pukes up warm, half digested manna all over my good blue kilt and shoes. It stinks like baby formula. As the dream fades the Angel reaches out and breaks my arm again.

So I woke up this morning to see that Santorum was defeated by the heavy hand of Larry. 60-40. I also recived an email detailing the price I have paid.

I was not selected for the Tropicana Meatball Invitational. It's held in Atlantic City and the Trop puts you up for a weekend of good times and great eating. I registered early but theres only 15 spots and they selected mostly from the top 20 from what I can gather.

I hate that I never get invited to the dance.