It’s Saturday night, Mother is out, the lights are beige, it’s time. Pence sneakily rushes to his safe, cleverly hidden inside his special mayo. The safe is locked with a code: Leviticus. Inside is something of which he can not speak. “We mustn’t tell a soul, Phil, this is between me and Genesis.” Pence discovered his descent into sin when he first discovered the band. “I thought it was Christian rock. Little did I know I was to be born in a new way.”

“Bring me that flat third!” He exclaims in a hush, just in case. Soon he is wrapped in the sin of the minor chord. He is marching without a care. “If only Mother could see me now!” He knew, of course, that mother would not approve of such rabble-rousing. One time she found what appeared to be a scuff on the floor. “This could only be created by the sin known as dancing.” She was right. Luckily, the quick-thinking Pence convinced her that they gays must have snuck in, danced in their kitchen, and flailed away, as they are known to do. As he sprinkled his protective circle of gunpowder and wood chips he could only think of the next lie. “The Devil is endless with his trickery, why else would he disguise himself as Phil Collins!”

Pence had comprised a theory while scouring the scripture in order to justify this new sensation that he assumed was lust. Nothing seemed to add up! Another Day in Paradise was clearly a reference to the Garden of Eden. “Nothing could be more divine than Eden! Mother will certainly approve!” As he explored their discography, however, he found himself in a deep frown usually reserved for an educated poor. “What’s this? An album called No Jacket Required? How can I explain my attraction to frivolity and bare shirts?” Pence imagined himself pacing back and forth, as to not re-scuff the floors, searching a new scripture, Wikipedia. “Perhaps Collins is referencing the nudity in Eden. No jacket is required when you’re nude.” Pence slapped himself at the thought. Nudity is no paradise, it is sin and reserved for marriage as the Collins classic “You Can’t Hurry Love,” suggests.

Suddenly, Pence snapped back to reality. “What time is it?” he yelled, offbeat. “Mother will be more furious at me than that time I swore a woman into Congress while her shoulders were bare.” The same woman had sworn in using a book of law. Pence had scalded his hands after trying to wash the law book away. There can’t be any traces of unholy text on his body.

Pence returned the mayo to the safe, kissed it (not in a gay way), and turned the lights back from beige to neutral. “No one will ever know” he whispered as he emerged from his sin chambers. Mother was not due back for another hour, but he can’t afford the risk. There had been one other close call last week. Mother had returned after forgetting her formal cardigan and noticed the lights were somewhat dimmed. Pence, who had grown quite accustomed to lying, told her that “The Squad” had snuck in with a bunch of immigrants and replaced all the light bulbs with Socialism. “Don’t you worry, dear, it will be fixed upon your return.” Mother smiled as this was the most romantic thing he had said in years.

This particular would be a difficult session to undo. Tonight, Pence had discovered I Wish it Would Rain Down, which he quickly realized had nothing to do with the cleansing rains of the rapture. “Why am I always fooled?” wondered the man who is always fooled. The guitar, for some reason, left him with an unusual yearning. He found himself playing along, but he didn’t have a guitar. Pence, leaving behind his sense of anality, began to air guitar as though he did, in fact, have a guitar. “What’s this?” he panicked, “the song is over, why does it still have a hold?” Pence found himself on the table “HOW DID I GET UP HERE!”

Pence had to undo his recklessness and he had to do it fast. Blaming the dirt on the table would be easy. “Women wanting equal pay dirtied the table, yes that’ll work.” Pence had a bigger problem. Phil Collins had never had this level of a hold on him before. What was it about this particular song that caused him to act like as careless as a scientist? Pence went up to his room, not Mother’s room (he’s not allowed there), and found his answer. “The Devil is up to his trickery, yet again!” he yelled loudly enough to scare his rabbit, who isn’t gay no matter what that Marlon Bundo book says.

“There is only one explanation!” Eric Clapton is featured on I Wish it Would Rain. “Eric Clapton must have used Phil Collins to lead me astray. Using his exceptional trickery, he has gotten me addicted to Genesis and therefore led me to the true devil, Eric Clapton. Phil Collins is a gateway drug to Eric Clapton, who is the Devil!” With his new discovery, Pence immediately fell asleep. This was the most thinking he had done in quite some time that didn’t have to do with traumatizing children.

The next morning, Mother was quite confused. Pence had fallen asleep in his work suit, not his pajama suit. “He must’ve had quite the night,” she chuckled. Oh yes he did, Mother, oh yes he did.

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