Angels? Knight's in Lew's Service

 

This is an old favorite with many fans. In fact, it may be Chick's single most epic story ever. It's got everything; good, evil, love, betrayal, death, fortunes rising and falling. It peers into the human soul, and pulls its worst components out like a tumor. It, in a word, rocks.

Now, we all know Rock and Roll is the Devil's music. However, did you know so-called Christian Rock is twice as bad? Because that's how they get you. So remember Godly folks of their world, if you ever see someone using their gifts to help others become more devout, don't trust them. Shun them, so they'll all become scraps of society with ruined lives, who'll throw down with anyone for the right to eat. It's what Jesus would do.
  

We meet our luckless musician heroes. They've been had again. They seem to suck so hard, even men of God refuse to pay them fully for their services. Of course, these guys want to be famous Christian rockers, when they seem to be pretty secular in their pursuit of fame and cash. Sure you can have a healthy career in Christian Rock, but it's generally a path pursued by those who don't become too famous. And why "Green Angels"? Are they pressing the enviromental buttons too? Well it's no wonder the church turned against them. Lousy heathens and their regard for Mother Earth.

So, is it okay to completely renege on paying someone their fee if you find them sinful? Can I refuse to pay the bill at a restaurant if the waitress's top is a little low cut and she strikes me as a harlot sinner? "There's Devil's Food cake on the menu. Devil's Food cake! I don't know what kind of infernal diner of sin you're tying to hoist upon me, but let me tell you; Sinners aren't winners in the game of cash! I'm out of here! On God's discount!" A dark mysterious stranger shows up, and immediately gains the group's trust by calling them little jerks. Beware of those with silver tongues, folks.

But just because they're jerks didn't mean they don't have some skills. Our mystery man seems to be a little...off. But call me old fashioned. I'm just the sort of guy that washes people out, I'm so old-school. I'm not the type that "goes and flows." Sometimes I'll flow and go, but going and flowing is the kind of action that leads one into a sinking quagmire of depravity.

Pimps ahoy! Obligatory homoerotic moment. 500 bucks to come to his place and get down. You have to admit, 500 apiece isn't bad for a bunch of never-wases like the Green Angels to start gangbanging for money. He seems like a pretty clean guy too. Okay, maybe your music career isn't flying so high, but the important thing is you're getting out there. Meeting new people, and whoring yourself to them. Hey, maybe you'll develop into man-hookers with hearts of Gold. Check out the dude making time with the waitress on the far right. At least that's what I'm thinking, because his wife sure looks pissed. Either that, or he just ordered something that'll make him fart like mad.

So now that they rocked Mr. Tall and Dark's world, he's making them an offer. It turns out Siffer's an agent. Who likes to hire people to come play at his pad. That's a pretty tricky way to play it. "You, come perform at my house for 2,000 bucks. Wait, I'm your agent now, so make that 18,000." My soul may not be saved reading these, but my bank account sure is. Siffer asks them if they'd die for their beliefs. Which is sort a weird question; They're a rock group, not the Knights Templar. Most Christian Rockers are such wusses, I don't think you could make them to get a vaccine, never mind engage in Holy War.

When fame and fortune is involved, there's always a price to be paid. But "But whatever it is, it's gotta be worth it." Spoken like true demon-food, Mister. Personally, if I got everything I wanted, I'd be as eccentric with my rider as I possibly could. I'm with the Green Angels? Okay, from now on, I can only have green m&m's. And all by groupies have to be named "Angela Green". And my entourage can only talk about television shows Green Acres and Touched by an Angel. I'm the shit now, and I have spoken.

Newbies are always going to be hosed when signing contracts, but in blood? Ewwww. Bobby's having compunctions about signing on now. He thinks it's a little gross. Yeah right, most garage band members will sleep in their own urine rather then get up to go to the bathroom. The threshold for "gross" is a liberal one. Everyone else is telling Bobby to shut up and get with the program. Bobby's obviously the softie of the group. The sensitive one. The conscience. He's a flower in this world, and running with this crowd is going to wilt him.

Not a big surprise, but it's true The untalented of the world do become successful via deals with the devil. And his name? Lew...Lew Siffer. Oh crap, Angels, you guys just stepped in some Hellshit. Personally, if I was striking some sort of bargain to make a hot young singer a big name, I think her "soul" might be one of the less valuable assets to use as collateral. He's going to show them how they fit in. Listen, if they can't figure out your name means "Lucifer", I doubt the effect all the explaining in the world for such a complex scheme is going to have on them.

The devil invented rock music! But I thought black people did. Oh, but wait, perhaps the devil controls black people! Let's go with it! By the way, if you want to play it low key, Lew, perhaps you shouldn't scout for talent in hick towns through such a hands on manner. The owner of even the shittiest record label wouldn't make a personal appearance for these losers. Yeah, you're really not working that "in the background" thing too well.

The mysterious stranger presents us with his dark scheme...on an overhead projector? Come on, he can do much better. Now, if I just sold my soul, I would expect any and all displays of Satanic reigns of terror to be illustrated by thing like blood forming on the walls and doing little blood dances. And the blood breathes fire. Come on, if I'm in the company of the damned, at least make me believe it. It also turns out that the flower children were in Satan's grasp. Protesting the war was totally part of the plan. Of course! Less time from war means more time for sinning. Except for the sin of killing, I suppose.

Dude, Black Sabbath does not belong in the same category of Motley Crew. Sabbath is so far above them it's not even funny. But Mr. Siffer's a clever one. He invented Christian Rock! Why? Because having people gather in church congregations and worshiping the Lord is yet another exit on the Highway of Sin! There's no medium you can find in this world that the devil isn't orchestrating. Except for small black and white comics, naturally.

Man, it's easy to see how tempting the devil can be, with his silky mood swings. Who could resist coming under his bi-polar thrall? He's infiltrated the Churches! You can't trust going to Church anymore! Worshipping God is sin now! Man, I think Chick is really trying to make people as insane as he is. On the other hand, I really can't argue that all rock music is starting to sound the same. I mean, he's sort of right in that regard.

It's being spelled out in words these lunkheads can understand. Watch out, you'll all become rockaholics. You'll die of rock poisoning. My buddy Cliff totally died of having too much rock in his system. Then, of course, he arose as a rock zombie. It was a rock. It was a rock zombie. After a while, however, he kept going about "Aaaaaxxxyl.....Aaaaxyl". Sorry Cliff, Guns 'N Roses are dead, and unlike you, it's never rising from the grave. Are Voodoo, rock music and Rome related? My album of John Paul and the Loa-Breakers: Hougan in Unbreakable Glass says a firm "yes". So hey, check out the little asterisk that points out Lew Siffer's Church is the Satanic Church. Very important distinction, as homynyms are probably lost on Jack's readership.

The boys are "blessed" and ready to do. What does New York have to do with any of this? Because New York is the Big Apple, and the apple is the fruit Satan (in the form of a serpent) tempted Eve with. See, it all fits together. Not looking good. Temptation-1, Resistance in the name of our Lord-0.

Wow. I don't care what you say. The brilliant simplicity in "We're gonna rock rock rock rock with the rock" is a lyrical nirvana. They cut the Gordian Knot everybody. Say you're going to rock and then rock. Verb, verb, verb with the noun. Can't imagine more sinful lyrics then this, can you? They're practically writing out instructions on how to rock. Which is evil, because it's rock music. Which is evil because it teaches you how to rock. Anyone up for some pie? I think I'm going to use Jack's logic as a pan to bake it in.

Success makes one a little cocky. Literally. Lew isn't quite so happy about rock stars publicly gaying each other. He probably never saw Velvet Goldmine. And no wonder; Ewan McGregor's naked schlong is a force for good. He also doesn't care for when you have to explain the ending to him But he already has his wedding present planned out. Some AIDS! Hey, I know it sounds like he's being vindictive, but he's not. He's just a cheap bastard. (The presentation earlier should have indicated as much.) When I got hitched, we registered for a some tv's, a dvd player, all sorts of things. But nooo. He's all "Here's about some AIDS." "We'd appreciate it if you pitched in a breadmaker, big guy." "Here's some AIDS."

Bobby's got AIDS. Noooo! It's always the tender ones that die young! Wait a minute, if they just went gay for each other, then that means it had to come from unprotected sex with a woman. Unless he just sprouted AIDS (and remember folks, you don't contract HIV, it comes in the form of full-blown AIDS forever and always) So that means Bobby just got aids by being gay? It just happened spontaneously? Sure, why not. The young blond is an ambitious one. "Please let me reach at least one of them." When you're a rock star, the fangirl reach-around is just another day on the job. Let's hope her hot little fingers don't get ahold of the AIDS infected one. After all, AIDS can travel through microscopic holes in your penis, and make its way to your hand.

Jesus does love Tom. But not as much as Tom wishes. The J-Man was totally onboard for "Rock, Rock, Rock with the Rock", but somewhere around "Embrace Me Love of Death", Christ Almighty sort of tuned out of the whole scene. Jim dies of a heart attack. People always die of heart attacks in Chick Tracts. Why? Because it's the only form of dying Chick can draw. (And still rather poorly at that,) Does that mean bacon is a pathway to sin? It probably is, being so delicious.

Well, it looks like the Angels are being repo'ed for their sinful ways. Don is into vampirism. As I understand it, you're not "into" vampirism. You either become one or you don't. It's not quite something you dabble in, like say, blogging. Unless you're one of those Anne Rice fans who throw masquerades and the like. But the only sin that entails is the sin of being annoying. Once again, Jack throws in a little self-promotion. His tracts do the trick. And if a story about a rock star who signs a deal with the devil and becomes a vampire isn't a testament to real world applications, by Chick I don't know what is. In all honesty, the last thing I want to read alone in the dark when hungover on drugs are these things. Tales from the Crypt never frightened me so much.

Tom's life is changed when presented with something stupider then he is. Here comes the big confrontation. What the @!!!**! is Tom doing? Here's a special treat; We're seeing the devil reveal himself, and he's red. Red*. This makes it a special kind of Chick tract. We're witnessing one of the anomalies of nature. Like albinos, an episode of Lost where things actually happen. It appears our boy Tom has a knack for telling the devil off. When he rebukes you, you know you've been rebuked. Personally, I think this the start of a whole new act. Tom calls out any megaproducers in the crowd, points at them, and they turn all red and monstrous! I love me some rocking, but here's a chance to redefine entertainment.

Tom is jamming to a different tune now. The tune of salvation. It's a modest life. No touring, no wealth beyond his wildest dreams. No vampirism to pursue. But it's not all bad. As an evangelist, or some kind of motivational speaker, he still gets to make healthy amounts of cash from the easily suckered. And every now and again he gets to sign some bare parishioner breast. Life is good