a.k.a. “Little Bitch Ruins Halloween”
“I’m not afraid of you… because Jesus loves me!” The simple Gospel for young children.
For varying definitions of “simple”, specifically “retarded”.
“I’m not afraid of you! I’ve got my fear-based religion to provide my terror for me!”
Another Halloween one, just because it’s a completely inappropriate time of the year for it.
“Puke for sale… get your fresh, hot, Halloween puke.”
He said “Boo!”, dipshit – what are you, deaf? It’s not that difficult to figure out which one-syllable word terminating in an “oo” sound you’re having shouted at you from a kid with a sheet over his head on Halloween. Though, maybe she really is deaf, and she’s confused because he’s signing the letter “c” at her, and she can’t read his lips because of his costume.
Of course, if she can actually accomplish forcing her skull through the front of her face like it seems she’s attempting to, it’ll be much better a costume than the other kid, so maybe the “WHAT?” is more like a “WHAT? You think that’s scary? Check this out. Nnnnnngh! *riiiiiplork*”
Or perhaps Jack forgot to put up the first panel, wherein the ghost kid says “I’m going to slowly shuffle toward you while squeezing at the air in front of me and saying ‘Boo!’ until I’m pinching your nipple”, which could also explain why she’s defensively covering her chest. Maybe he’s really saying “Boobs!”, but Jack is too shy to write it out.
She’s right, jazz hands just aren’t that terrifying. Especially such lackadaisical one– AWWWWW, KITTY!
You can picture him saying “BOOBS!” here, too, I guess, if you want a cheap laugh.
So, she’s not afraid… because Jesus loves her. Even though the whole belief system is, erm, structured around being terrified of eternal damnation. In other words, she believes in Jesus because she’s afraid, and believing in Jesus assuages the fear that he’ll become unjustifiably angry with her and cast her into hell for all eternity. This really starts to seem like an “If you suck me off, I promise not to beat you for the rest of the night” kind of relationship.
What they should be afraid of, however, are all the feces that mouse is going to be dropping in their candy bucket.
I just figured out what her costume is: She’s an inverted ice cream cone, only instead of being filled with the appropriate iced confection, it’s two scoops of vague, unprovable threats, a complete lack of joy and a willfulness to destroy others’ happiness, and probably a rotten mouse corpse or maggoty human finger or something. Hell, forget the mouse in the previous panel – I wouldn’t be surprised if she yanked their candy buckets away from them and shat into them herself.
Oh, she is burning a hole right through his head with that look. And vigorously rubbing the ghost’s belly, for some reason.
I wonder how many Christians include the devil’s pitchfork as part of their belief system. Is there supposed to be livestock in hell? Some may think he’d need it to jab sinners in some goofy, comical fashion, but if you’re torturing people with the near-infinite number of different horrible ways of inflicting suffering, what the fuck do you need a pitchfork for? It’s like, “Dude, why the toothpick? There’s no food in hell. You haven’t eaten for, like, hundreds of millennia.” “Eh, I keep it around for poking at people.” I know, I know, recognizable, stereotypical iconery and whatever. That doesn’t make it any less goofy.
I think the ghost kid is stuck in some kind of mode where he repeats every first and fourth thing he says.
*sigh* Not this again. Yeah, no non-fundamentalist child in America has EVER heard of JESUS. Come on. Western culture has Christianity’s greasy fingerprints all over it. Chick makes it seem like there are maybe, oh, say, two dozen people in the entire country who are familiar with the name “Jesus”.
That is the expression of a broken human being. Or, maybe he wasn’t lying when he said he was the devil, and there are actually nerves in that tail that the dog is furiously gnawing. Anyway, get used to the feeling, kid. Soon, you’ll be an adult, reading newspaper articles about ridiculous Supreme Court decisions on abortion, gays persecuted at every turn, Attorney Generals draping the breasts of fucking statues, the FBI trying to pry their way into your bedroom over the internet to enforce “obscenity laws”, withered old shitsticks trying to perpetuate the systematic oppression and subjugation of women in a larger attempt to return the country to the fuckawful 1950s, and America generally turning increasingly into a theocracy. It’s like waking up every morning to a fresh blast of piss in your face, a big, greasy, warm shit coiled up in your cereal, and a swift, diarrhea-inducing series of kicks to the lower back. Better start stashing away that allowance for all the goddamned antidepressants you’re going to need.
Anyway, speaking of animals, it looks like the mouse made it into the candy bucket. “Hey, you guys! Look! Someone gave me chocolate sprinkles! I know we’re not supposed to eat unwrapped candy, but Jesus will protect us, right?” Meanwhile, the cat, oblivious to the easy prey just a yard or so away, appears to be sinking its teeth into the ghost kid’s thigh, eliciting no response at all from its equally oblivious victim.
“You guys – what an incredible fart I’m having!”
Y’know… kid songs that specify generic race “colors” don’t seem like they’re going to really be all that effective at eliminating the mental separations between “types” of people in children’s minds. This shit’s just going to end up leading to questions and comments like “Mommy, what’s a red kid?” and “Look! A yellow person!”
And if someone started wailing this at me with this kind of an expression on their face, I’d drop everything and run like these were the first lines in the phrase-activated detonation sequence on the organic bomb built into their body.
I envision her saying both lines, here, with the same expression on her face, singing the last line of the song with a whispered, reverent awe, emphasizing certain words by gently stabbing her finger forward in the air. “JEsus LOVES the little CHILdren OF the WORLD.”
“Ow… ow… cat… rending… back-flesh… pitchfork… thrusting into… side… but not… going… to move…” Is this kid completely devoid of a nervous system?
“Meh, just gonna drop this shit right here. You don’t mind, do you, ecosystem? Good, here, have some plastic.”
You know, I actually kind of like this dog… rabbit… saw… thing. Wow… something Chick drew that’s actually kind of neat-looking. I’m going to have to write down the date – the day I actually liked something Jack Chick drew.
And hey, God is the one sentencing people to eternal damnation if they don’t believe in him. Jesus should save people from him.
Oh, yeah, take it allll off, baby.
“His ghost costume was stifling. It narrowed his vision, and he must see far. His candy bucket was heavy. It threw off his balance, and his target is far away.”
The cat chases the dog away from gnawing on the devil mask. Because, y’know, cats are tools of the devil.
Jesus did something awful. Wait a minute, I thought that was Rich “Lowtax” Kyanka…
He died? Wow, ’cause nobody ever dies. That’s amazing!
No, kids! Don’t stare into her hypnotizingly blank eyes! That’s how she takes your soul!
“I’ve transported you into this dark, shapeless void to tell you the rest of my story.”
“HAW HAW HAW! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to grind down my horns and get back to controlling the world’s banking system. Oy!”
Yeah, the devil’s response to the physical embodiment of God – his nemesis – dying? Laughter! No wonder he was unsuccessful at usurping the throne of God if all he does is gloatingly giggle over every minor victory.
Gyah! Put your ghost costume back on, kid! That… that head! Those eyes! It’s like he’s staring at forever.
He really must not have a nervous system, or is at least incapable of reacting to sensory input. I mean, he’s got the other kid’s ear lodged in his eye and he doesn’t even seem to be acknowledging it.
Yeah, why did Jesus do that?
Jack Chick doesn’t draw children, he draws doughy-faced, navel-mouthed homunculi. Are they all having allergic reactions or something?
“Ook ook ook!”
What would it matter that the mere physical embodiment of God died? “Whoo! This physical embodiment – something of which an omnipotent being could create an endless supply – has died!”
“Jesus made the devil’s spinal column explode!”
ONLY the children. Nobody else. Just children. Who, erm, don’t go to hell anyway because there’s no such thing as purgatory or limbo.
“Cool! …what’s a ‘heaven’?”
You know, no context necessary or anything. Why in fuck would they want to go to heaven? If they didn’t even know who Jesus was, how are they supposed to know about the rest of Christian mythology?
“…he can finally get into the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘largest stack of human hearts’!”
I feel like any second, these kids’ faces are going to peel back, and their enormous, blank eyes will just be floating in mid-air above their necks.
Heyyyyy… wait a minute. She’s making them afraid in order to convert them to her religion! “I’m not afraid” my ass!
Kid, you… you got a little… a little bellybutton lint in your… in the corner of your… uh… “mouth”, I guess… there.
“Wait, we’re a little unclear. Who, exactly, is the devil? And why is he so bad?” “Yeah, and how can you demonstrate to us this ‘protection from bad things’ that Jesus supposedly provides? Are we just to take your word for all of this? You’re fucking, like, six years old.” “Yeah. And just look at Jimmy – he’s like a magnet for cat’s claws and other sharp, pointed things. Is Jesus going to protect him from his constant maulings? How? And if he’s not, won’t Jimmy still be afraid of something? What’s the point of only being fearless about vague, intangible things and still having to fear immediate, real-world injuries and dangers?” “Yeah, and why would we want to go to heaven, anyway? What is it? Can I sin in heaven, or do I still have to be paranoid about every action I take? If I can, why would God stop caring? If I can’t, what’s the point? Is that really paradise?”
“HyahaHAHA… oh, God… haha… *eye twitch* Why am I… hahahaha… Why am I shoving this… *eye twitch… eye twitch* whole tray full of… *eye twitch* haHAhaHAAA… ice cubes… up my ass… HAhaHAhaGAH… *eye twitch… eye twitch* one cube… at a time?”
Or: “Tee-hee! Aneurism!”
Or: *thwack* “Sorry, kid! Forgot to yell ‘fore!'”
Or: “Hahahaha, wowee! I’ve forgotten how much fun it is to just randomly start masturbating in public!”
Or: “Yaaaaahhhh! Nothin’ like a mid-day coke snort off your wrist to get your mind right!”
Or: “Gyaaaagh! Why did I think it was… a good idea to… put a rabid wolverine… up my skirt?”
Or: (Hell, you try. This panel is hilarious.)
“HOMF HORMPH HOMPH candy tastes so much better when you’re shoving it into your face with both hands! URMPH HOMF mmmm HOMF HORMPH dirt, too HOMF”
So is it some kind of requirement to bury your face in your hands while praying?
The animals aren’t praying, by the way – they’re just covering their faces in sympathetic embarrassment for the children. “Aw, fuck. I can’t believe they bought it.”
“(…And complete his human heart collection.)” “What?” “Uh, nothing! I didn’t say anything. (Join ussssssss…)”
“*gasp* Sweating… *gasp* Ahh… *pant* …double penetration… *pant* …exhausting.”
Gah, put your fucking costumes back on, you hideous little monsters.
“We’re all violently farting at once! It’s awesome! Thanks, Jesus!”
Careful, parents: Apparently your children can be easily converted by fundamentalist children using contextually bare fairy tales and implicit threats about intangible enemies.