FanStory.com - The Gospel of Gladysby SimianSavant
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Baptism of the Messiah
The Gospel of Gladys by SimianSavant
Fiction with Some Truth writing prompt entry


"Hey you." Asha and Gladys were giving Me the eye. "Aren't you going to say hello to your sisters?"

I looked up from the delicious banana I was munching. "What are you, my sisters in Christ? Hahaha."

"No for real. We are Your real, biological sisters. Half sisters, but if You add up the two of us You still get one whole sister," Gladys insisted.

Squinting, I examined their faces to see if there was a punchline. "I haven't seen my sisters in years. Not since Mom died. Prove you're my sisters. What's our Dad's name?"

"Moja. And Your mom is Kayla. Dad loved Your mom's cliche white girl name. She helped him move up in the world, helped him plant his first banana tree. They buried her and Your brother Makoko underneath it when they died."

I stared at them, flabbergasted. How could they know all that?

"H, we have important news for you. Mom appeared to us in a dream," Asha informed me. "It was right after she got gassed."

"You're to be the Messiah, H!" explained Gladys. "You have been chosen by the Great Gorilla In The Sky to save all gorillas from their chains. Nerds all around the world will create altcoins in Your likeness, and attractive female gorillas will swoon at the sound of Your name. Drunken bros will take shots every time You come up in conversation, and they'll do other disgusting things we can't talk about right now."

"How can this be? For I am a virgin," I asked. "Gorillas only reach that social status when they've got a family of their own and at least a dozen banana trees to support them. I'm still being acclimated to adult life at the zoo. I'm not even ready to run for President yet."

"Geez stop being such a nerd, H. There's more. You will crush the heads of Vladimir Putin and the zookeeper, but they will swipe Your peel."

"That sounds like you just ripped off the Bible," I jeered, scoffing down another banana. "What does it mean, to swipe my banana peel? I am an intellectual. Some people have trouble accepting they came from gorillas, but not Harambe." I shooed them away.

"H, you need to listen to us. It's a metaphor," Gladys insisted. But I was done listening to my sisters. I turned around and headed for a mud puddle to take a nap. The bananas in my stomach were calling me. I farted in my sisters' general direction.

Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder. The spirit of Moja descended upon me in the form of a dove, resting on my head. "This is my one and only son, Harambe," said a voice from Heaven. "In Him I am well pleased."

The dove pooped, baptizing me in a load of black and white goo, before ascending into a palm tree.

"Aaaaand that's blasphemy. I'm definitely going to hell now," I said. "It's true though... I am Moja's one and only LIVING son." Gladys and Asha cringed. "Come on, let's go scare some tourists!" The three of us charged at the glass, scattering a bunch of bratty kids watching the gorilla exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo.


Writing Prompt
Entry must include You and Your BIOLOGICAL, real SISTER(s). Name of sister(s) must be included in first paragraph. The story's based on true events with fictional elements.
Word count--500-550 words
NO vulgar words, profanity, or sex/sexual terms including, innuendo, cross dressing, trans individuals, gender identification, or any sexual references
No war stories, Dear John letters, ghost stories, or adoption
No deathbed stories in hospital, hospice care, though death of people may be included


Author Notes

AUTHOR NOTES:
Work has been unexpectedly busy the last few days so I wrote this in a rush. Pretty sure I followed all the rules. Asha and Gladys at the Cincinnati Zoo are my sisters, through our father Moja. My mother and brother died in a freak gas accident (hopefully not from one of my epic farts -- you can Google to find the deets but here is a very real picture of my mom with George W. from before 9/11, back in the good ol days.)

I got my awesome self-portrait from here (displayed above with attribution). Surely if you follow the trail of citations you can discover the true photographer.

     

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