CHARACTER: SATAN, a.k.a. the fallen angel Samael, a.k.a. the Devil, a.k.a. the Adversary, a.k.a. the Crooked Serpent, a.k.a. the Prince of this World, a.k.a. the Dragon, a.k.a. the Accuser, a.k.a. the King of the Demons, a.k.a. the Ruler of Hell, a.k.a. the Antichrist
SATAN’s throne sits centre, and a side table holds a tattered old book and a pair of tongs. Satan sits in his throne, fuming. Through the monologue, he may stand, pace, etc.
You know, the least they could have done was give me a warning. I mean, there I am, minding my own business, torturing the sinful and plotting the downfall of man, when suddenly, pow! These four horsemen go riding across the world heralding the beginning of the end and bringing war, pestilence, famine, and death in their wake. I mean, come on, that’s totally supposed to be my thing. Not the riding, though, I get horrible wedgies. I just mean the destruction and doom.
And you know where they come from? Scrolls. They spring out of scrolls. He’s sitting up there on His glowy throne like He’s so much better than everyone else, having praises sung to Him night and day, and He holds up these seven scrolls, and four of them turn into horsemen and go riding off. What’s up with that? I mean, what are they supposed to be? Angels? Hardly. Demons? Not mine, anyway.
And don’t get me started on the singing of praises. Talk about inferiority complex, if He needs people telling Him how great He is all the time. I know I’m great, I don’t need people telling me. The screams of the damned are all the proof I need. I mean, you gotta admit, Scientology was a stroke of genius. Got so many suckers with that one… Continue reading