That book you read about the vampire isn’t real.

That book you read about the ghost isn’t real.

That book you read about the werewolf isn’t real

That book about the man in the clouds who watches you when you poop, screw, and live your day to day life; that one’s real.

Also, if you don’t go to his house and worship him weekly, he may not let you in to gawk at his theological theme park up above.

Go to sleep or Santa won’t come.

Go to sleep or the Easter Bunny won’t leave you any candy.

Say your prayers or the Lord almighty might steal your breath in the night and send you downstairs to a world of fire and torture.

Sleep tight, kids.

Every previous generation should be crucified at the zero hour as a warning to future parents.

Ruling by fear is getting old, and therapy bills increase accordingly.

Tell me again why I wasn’t allowed to watch horror whenever I spent time with the religious parent.

Because Stephen King tells it better than Preacher.

King knew where the story went.

Preacher always went off the cuff depending on which bills were due.

Fear equals money in the eyes of the storyteller.

Child abuse.

Plain and simple.

Don’t sigh; you did this.

In his holy name; amen.