I'm assuming no one is too surprised to learn that God hates prohibitionists?

Good.

I'm also assuming that the rage you've always felt towards them now feels justified?  Even warranted?  Encouraged?

Excellent.

Two six-sided diceI'm also just going to go ahead and assume you'd like to hear the true story about the invention of brain surgery, how dice came to have six sides, why the Burnt City was never rebuilt, and why Satan's pitchfork has three prongs?

Super.

The Burnt City, located in south-eastern Iran circa 3000 B.C., was one of the world's largest and most advanced cities, despite its lack of free online porn.  It was home to the first ever artificial eyeball, backgammon set, practice of brain surgery, and most likely the birthplace of the Wobbly-H (although this is still hotly debated).

But why did the inhabitants of the Burnt City create artificial eyeballs?  Why did they begin practicing brain surgery?  What could have possibly led to these amazing advancements?

Booze.  And lots of it.

One night, after several blissful hours of drinking games and human sacrifice, Kerbad tripped over a ceremonial mask and hit his head on one of those super ancient clay pot things.  His buddies mistook this for passing out with his sandals on and chiefed the fuck out of him.  However, so drunk were Kerbad's friends that in an attempt to draw a homosexuality-implying hieroglyphic on Kerbad's cheek, they punctured his eye with a Sharpie.

"Not so fast, fuck-bag," God exclaimed, picking up the prohibitionist. "Looks like your time has rum out."  When they awoke to horrific, blood-curdling screams, they knew last night's wingmen had come-to.  When they saw Kerbad trying to grope his way one-eyed to the Gatorade fridge, they saw what they had done, and like most atrocities committed while drunk, they totally blamed it on someone else, who totally made Kerbad a sweet artificial eye; something that never would have been made if not for a drunken mistake.  Just like me, and 90% of my generation.

But booze didn't just lead to the artificial eyeball.

Have you ever heard that theory where if you drop a quarter off the top of the Sears Tower and it lands on someone's head it would sink several inches into their skull?  Now take that idea, and imagine a quarter dropped from Heaven.

God was playing quarters with Aries when he bounced his coin just a little too hard, sending it off His heavenly table, onto His heavenly floor, and under His heavenly guard rail before beginning its heavenly descent toward Earth.

Kerbad was walking under ladders and admiring his artificial eye in the mirror he had just broken, when God's quarter thudded into his brain.  However, he was so drunk that instead of crying out in terrifying anguish or dying like most people would, he simply asked the city's physician to fish the shimmering currency out of his cranium.

Thus began the practice of brain surgery.

All this begs the question: if alcohol led to these amazing, life-saving advancements, how could someone possibly be a prohibitionist?

Answer: evil.

An evil so far beyond anything even the lowest depths of hell have ever witnessed.  So evil, in fact, that Satan teamed up with God to combat this iniquity, creating the first ever three-pronged pitchfork with which to anally-pillage the prohibitionists and feed them to his three-headed dog, Cerberus.

Satan and God
The dynamic duo teams up to fight prohibition.
Prohibition was started by King Ur-Nammu, known for founding the Sumerian Third Dynasty of Ur as well as having a gaping vagina.  After defeating his former masters, Ur-Nammu decided to further his inexplicable levels of douche-baggotry by destroying fun.  The fastest way to do this?  Ban alcohol.

Enter The Code of Ur-Nammu, the oldest and most retarded code of law ever created.  Setting the legal precedence for crimes such as murder, robbery, and not having enough dicks in your ass at any given time, The Code of Ur-Nammu prohibited any form of alcohol, enjoyment, or reason to live.

But God thought otherwise.

"Fuck that," said God. "I'm gonna tear those prohibitionists a new one."

"True dat," added Satan. "I'm ‘bout to rage on some mother fuckers."

And rage they did.

While the intoxicated inhabitants of the Burnt City lay passed out around the dying embers of their campfire, tired from all the laughing, fucking, and general merry-making they had been doing for the last several centuries, the prohibitionists snuck up like the dick-eating cowards they were and began their attack.

Sexually-frustrated and angry at the world, the prohibitionists struck the Burnt City boozers, who had to first peel off their condoms, find their boxers, and walk their fuck-buddies home before beginning a counterstrike.

Ur-Nammu watched with pride from atop a pile of naked men as his prohibitionists punched and stabbed the drunkards between crying and cutting themselves.  Then, just as a prohibitionist was about to set fire to the Burnt City's rum supply, God stepped in.

"Not so fast, fuck-bag," God exclaimed, picking up the torch-carrying prohibitionist.  "Looks like your time has rum out."  Satan pounded God's fist.

God took a godly swig of rum, held the torch up to his lips, and blew a fiery gale over the army of prohibitionists.  Satan took this opportunity to create pitchfork skewers of roasted prohibitionists and fed them to his dog, who refused to eat them because he does not like the taste of soulless barbequed shit.

When the screaming died down, Satan surveyed the scene and immediately ejaculated, for yeah, there is nothing more appealing than a field of dead prohibitionists. After banishing to hell anyone who had ever looked at a prohibitionist and felt anything other then pure unadulterated hatred, he bid God farewell, and peaced out.

Then God, in all his greatness, made it rain vodka, in which the people of the Burnt City rejoiced.  Sadly, six partiers did not rejoice, and anyone who doesn't rejoice in an alcoholic storm is obviously deceased.

It was in the memory of these six brave booze hounds that God created the six-sided die, so that every time someone played a drinking game involving dice they would think of them, and remember their proud contribution to the advancement of partying.

THE END.


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