There is a strong vein of Christian righteousness in most small towns in the U S of A – a little mix of hellfire and hallelujah and feel good ‘going to Glory one day’ self satisfaction.

Never let it be said though that it ever gets in the way of screwing people over – Church on Sunday, fuck you twice on Monday as Supervisor Falls would say, and chuckle. And on this day God decided to get his/her own back.

With power out, the roads out , the phones down and the satellite TV caput too, a growing sense of doom and Armageddon began to creep in round the edges of the already edgy extreme members of the populace.

In the scheme of things, if there was a God, he/she was about to have one hell of a good laugh about all this.

God, in this instance came in the form of Pastor Paul. No one was really sure if that was his real name but it rolled nicely off the tongue and as Pastor Paul frequently was prone to being ‘taken by tongues’ it seemed ok to most Whipsaw residents.

It was a challenge to look Godly in the middle of January but Pastor Paul strode purposefully over to the Sink Hole, paused to gird up his frequently wayward loins at the door and flung it open.

Glaring a fire and brimstone eye across the gathered flock his stare fixed firmly on the still trussed terrorists now returned to the bar.(Cliff being way too worried at that moment about his latest shipment of Bud Light staying cold for the duration of the storm.)

To Adnam and Bashir Farah it had all the makings of a Steven King movie. There was only one working baleful eye in Pastor Paul’s head – its mate having been dispatched during an altercation with a BB gun in his youth. He had been alliteratively f-ing this and f-ing that at the precise moment his Mother had promised he’d ‘shoot yer eye out’ when God played a dirty trick and did just that. Was it a flash of revelation or a quick way out of Tennessee? Whatever – the die was cast and Paul became a mail order Pastor on a path to the Lord – or at least a steady pay check.

He’d arrived in Whipsaw Lake last Fall, a stand in for the sickly prior minister of the Fundamentalist Baptist Born Again Church of the Infinite Redeemer. Most folks here abouts had a soft spot for old Pastor Mike, a gentle soul of vague Irish descent, who had enough faults and slip ups of his own not to be too hard on the lonely of bed and liquored up on Saturday residents.

Paul on the other hand was not Mike and let everyone know it within 30 seconds of his opening sermon. Folks still squirmed at the memory of that blistering, withering, tongue lashing, ear bending Sunday morning. No one dozed THAT day, but then half of them never came back either. As Big Bill Hodson put it – if God was going to be such a shit about sending this asshole He could put up with this miserable SOB all by Himself.

As luck would have it Big Bill came through the door right behind Pastor Paul – took one look at the back of the man and quickly wheeled round and left again. Leaving Pastor Paul with a nasty cold draft around the back of his neck – reinforcing his belief that he was in the presence of Evil!

By now Adnam’s eyes were swimming and one good sneeze would have flooded his pants. “Could I PLEASE use the bathroom?” he pleaded.

Pastor Paul strode right up to him, shoved his face right into his and way too quietly menaced “Why?”

“Otherwise it won’t be very pleasant in here in a minute,” laughed Bashir.

Bad move.

“You think this is funny?” the air fairly crackled with electricity as the bar’s by now slightly boozy occupants waited to see how Pastor Paul was going to handle this.

“Well,” mused Bashir, “last time Adnam peed himself I laughed so hard I did the same so it could get really messy? And we did put away a six pack before all this and he never could hold his liquor!”

So – not only terrorists but smart mouther ones to boot!

But a couple of patrons smirked to themselves – and one muttered ‘oh for God’s sake let the guy take a piss!’

Only to meet the full wrath of Pastor Paul wheeling round on a dime to slap a big gloved hand on the table – which kind of ruined the moment, more of a whump than a thwack.

But Cliff Swenson decided he really didn’t want to clean that up and untied the bar towel to lead the sweaty Adnam off to the restroom – the 30 Odd 6 planted firmly in the middle of his back.

Bashir tried to put on his best ‘now what seems to be the problem’ dentists face and smiled expectantly. Surely, even with one eye gone, this man of God might be somewhat reasonable? He couldn’t have been more mistaken.

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Out on the highway Big Bill Hodson saw an opportunity like a deer fly pounces on a dog’s rear end. The truck was leaning at an unfortunate angle, almost on its side with the far side wheels up to their axles in the snow drift.

“You guys need a hand here?” They nodded.

“Spill your load I see.” They nodded again.

“Sure! Good thing I happened along then! Let’s get this thing back on the road to start with and then you just follow me down the road aways?” A quick look at each other, and they nodded again. One seemed to relax his hand a little in his overcoat pocket.

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Adnam peed as if the well spring of life had burst forth from the depths of eternity. Cliff was impressed – guy must have a 50 gallon bladder!

“We really are dentists you know? You can put the gun down.”

“Shut the fuck up!” said Cliff.

“Please don’t point that thing at me?”

“Same here,” motioned Cliff.

“ Can you please see how my cousin is? Is he badly hurt? Do you have a doctor here?”

“ You ask too many questions!” So this is how they infiltrate coursed across Cliff’s dimly lit powers of reasoning, they almost look normal.

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“You guys farmers? You sure dress well for farmers!”

A smile crossed their faces and a slight shrug of the shoulders.

“ I guess you were down at the Farm Expo before all this crap blew in right?”

There was no need to reply as Bill had seized the moment and was headed to clinch the sale.

“How much did you lose? 20, 50 bags?” They nodded enthusiastically. “well let’s just back this right up to the loading dock and we can fix you right up gentlemen!”

They exchanged quick looks, one opened his mouth, the other said ‘quiet’ with his eyes, then warmly shook this fool’s hand.

Handing over his American Express – ‘well it’s a pleasure, a real pleasure doing business with you folks! Now just mind how you drive going back up that hill now! Good luck for you I can along when I did eh?” and me too thought Big Bill mentally calculating the exorbitant price he’d just soaked these saps for.

No need for all that Homeland Security crap about checking Driver’s Licenses right?

One of them tipped his hat and waved – the reconstituted load properly secured under a new donated blue tarp – they set off for a date with 40 virgins.

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So all the pieces were in place and all the players on the stage – all that’s left are some special effects. Enter the star performance of Mother Nature, never one to miss an opportunity to put her 2 cents worth in! The snow had now accumulated over 14” with blasts of freezing rain in between. Power lines folded like last year’s political promises, snapping and crackling into evil blue sparks – the last remaining power went down in Whipsaw Lake.

Normally this would have sent everyone over to the Sink Hole for a joyous abandonment of abstinence and any other kind of diet. But many citizens were now holed up in little marooned pockets of discontent – some in the Church, some in the Township Hall, and some stuck in their isolated homes hunkered down in happy oblivion to what was happening elsewhere. These, as it turned out, were the lucky ones, who emerged the next day and firmly believed everyone had either gone completely cuckoo or was lying through their teeth about what happened next.

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