Chick Tracts Will Kill You: May 2008

This tract is a wonderful, rare, look into the unseen world of angels and demons and the games they play with our souls. It’s unapologetic and just ready to scare the ever living shit out of you. Once you realize the voices in your head are in fact demon hell spawn, you’ll embrace Jesus faster than he embraced wine.

The Assignment is a series of blue circles behind the “men’s bathroom” guy. It should be noted that if you ever presented this tract to someone and they didn’t accept Jesus, you could always spin it around really fast until they believed they were the “men’s bathroom” guy.

This is an automatic free pass into Heaven as far as God is concerned.

In Heaven things are not really planed out too far in advance. In the case of Charles Bishop, his three guardian angels find out about his terrible death roughly 17 days before hand. They realized they’ve just fucked up bit time and now need to rush things. As any ordained minister will tell you, a rushed salvation almost always needs to be re-salvated a month or so later.

The angels need to find some human to do their dirty salvating. Tim is useless and bald. But lucky for the angels there is always jail bait Christian girls than can be used.

Also, fuck you angels for having flat screen TV technology back in the whenever the fuck this was written.

Preparations and precautions predetermine practical purity pussycats!

Ah shit the demons are after him too. And the word is out. And the word was with God and the word was God. And the word is that Bishop is gonna die.

Jack Chick must have really hated this Tim guy to be bashing him so unrelentingly. I mean aside from the name calling he’s going to have demons go to work on his wife? Good job Ethel, you married Jack Chick’s most sworn and hated enemy.

Oh Cathy Hillman, trouble you are for the demons of the night. Why must you know the word and so forth? Grow some balls demons. Go kill her pets and rape her teddy bears. She’s 16, stop putting up with this!

Tim proves his worthlessness by convincing himself that giving Charles a little tract will grant him eternal life. HE’S A BIG BOSS! HE NEEDS A BIG TRACT!

You know that shame you felt every time you masturbated when you were younger? It was because an angel was whispering in your ear. And it knew.

It knew.

Well doesn’t that just sum up every horror I ever had about anything.

Sometimes Jack likes to stress certain points in sentences. In these cases he uses bold text for a word or two. Then if he needs another he uses it again. Then he uses A TOTALLY DIFFERENT FONT! Followed by underline italics! Then ITALIC BOLD! Then just REGULAR ITALICS!

It makes it easier to read.

Charles has not taken a workplace sensitivity training class in a really long time. Last I checked your boss wasn’t allowed to walk up and check to see what kind of religious ceremonies you may or may not have been performing over your chicken fried steak and crunchy green beans. It doesn’t matter though, after Tim thanked God for his delicious lunch that his wife didn’t poison, he quickly renounced him.

TAKE THAT FOOD PROVIDING COSMIC BEING!

Oh Buz you are super swell. And handsome! And you got a demon influencing your decisions. Just like every man on earth.

If by demon I meant penis. And by decisions I meant sex. And by handsome I meant reach around.

Two censored swear words on the same f**king page? Holy F**CKING SH** C***!

I mean @!!!*!

Ah the struggle between good and evil is waged not in the heavens above or the depths below. The forces of light face off against the darkness in every soul of man. There within, the balance of all things great and significant is won or lost. For maybe it is not that man worships his creator or denounces him. Maybe it is only that existence is a force so powerful, all eternity desires to claim it.

BOOBIES!

Demonic forces use A1 insurance... to insure your soul ends up in hell!

I don’t care how powerful they are. If someone asks me what I’m doing today and an angel tells me to go wash my hair, I’m going to tell him I plan on fucking the pope and burring plastic bottles at the south pole.

If this was 24, Kiefer Sutherland would have concerns over the direction the writing staff was taking the show.

Jack Chick is a terrible artist.

Jack Chick is so bad at drawing; he used MS Paint 25 years before it existed.

Seriously Cathy, don’t stop. Don’t stop Cathy, don’t stop!

Oh fuck you angel! Using the elderly like that. Damn her and her arthritis from 1932.

After reading him the entire Bible (Only a crazy person would accept a religion without reading its holy book in its entirety), Cathy has convinced good old Charles Bishop, who here by just become our hero for the tract, to accept Jesus!

Right after he thinks about it tonight.

Oh @!!!* me.

CONCLUSION: Angels suck at their jobs.

Till next Friday.

The next tract is one of my favorites. It’s the story of an insane woman’s dream. I’ve always said the road to eternal salvation lies in showcasing crazy fictional dreams. That’s how Buddha converted people over to his wonderfully kooky religion.

Don’t judge a tract by its cover. Don’t do it. You already did, didn’t you? Well damn it, now everything is ruined.

Now I’ve never seen anyone in real life actually try to give someone a tract so I’m not sure how accurate this conversation is. But like all of Jack’s tracts I know it has to be true. Look how calm and reasonable tract believing Christian man is. He’s concern for every fucking soul on earth has obviously taken years off his once beautiful face. But our crazy hero will have none of this. She resents him with only the fury a women can know.

Woah wait, our hero is already a Christian? Jack Chick is like the J.J. Abrams of 1960s Christian propaganda. He will fuck with your head without giving it a second thought. Now we see two Christians locked into a battle of wits! This is epic seeing as how a legitimate argument between two Christians has only happen twice before in the history of ever. GO CRAZY WOMEN HERO!

It is sin to lust after this panel. It is a sin to lust after this panel. It is a sin to lust after this panel.

Sorry I couldn’t really talk about that last page without seriously putting your eternal soul in danger. However the premise was that our crazy woman hero went to bed and dreamed of hell. Now then, THIS page doesn’t really make sense to me personally.

I know I don’t understand hell as much as Jack Chick but how do you write a letter in hell? Wouldn’t the paper burn? The ink boil? The hand that’s trying to write it be burning in eternal flame and suffer severe penmanship flaws? Again, I don’t know but I trust Jack does. Also there’s a messenger service in hell. What the crap Jack?

Ok try to follow this. We’re looking at an artist rendition of a fictional dream of “sights never dreamed of those living above.” This could only mean one thing. Jack Chick has been to hell and back. This is the only possible way this panel could have possible come into existence.

Also Jack uses the British spelling of Sulfur. Must be one of the habits he picked up in Hell. It’s kind of annoying.

Hell reminds me of the Lewis and Clark Caverns, only with more messenger services.

NO! THAT WAY!

After traveling the depths of hell together the veteran carrier understands when the job becomes too dangerous. Just look at that house. Fucking get killed in there.

Crazy woman hero is talking to her pastor. It seems she donated a gift to her church and it was awesome enough for the pastor himself to call and thank her. Crazy woman hero dismisses the thank you and informs him it was just her Christian duty.

Crazy woman hero is awakened by someone screaming her name and farting.

Crazy woman hero is contacted. It is a good thing.

Fucking go away dog.

Now remember this was before the internet was invented and we didn’t have instant messenger service of the damned. It would be another 30 years before AIM found it’s niche.

Tranquillizer? Crazy woman hero you don’t need tranquillizer, you just need to pray. God is your tranquillizer.

Oh hey, a letter.

Man people in hell are always quick to point out that it’s someone else fault they're there. Also they fucking have to rhyme every damn thing.

Seriously, I was having problems with logistics of writing a regular letter. How the crap do you have the focus of mind to write a fucking POEM in hell? A terrible one at that.