Discussion Group

"Mindy, if this is about those kittens in the river again..." Sighing, Alvin abandoned his vigil at the toaster to get up and see what was the matter. He pushed up his glasses and read the ad at which Mindy was pointing a trembling finger. By the time he got to "take the Lord's name in vain," his eyebrow had gone up. By the time he got to "recycle bin", his hand shot out for the phone on the wall. He looked wide-eyed at his wife as he dialed. "Could this really be a solution? Are our problems finally over? Can... Hello, Pastor Thorpe? My name is Alvin Gibbs. My wife and I saw your ad in the paper this morning. Yes, exactly! Can we see you on Monday? Yes, excellent. Thank you so much. We truly owe our lives to you. Business? No, I work at the bank downtown. Well, I'm sure you're busy, so I'll let you go. Thank you very much again. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and wordlessly held his wife tightly.

"Oh, Alvin, it seems too good to be true! I can't wait. To be able to sleep at night, to be able to think in this house without it breathing down our necks... oh, it's like paradise on Earth!" Mindy nearly melted into her husband's arms.

"Our prayers are finally answered," Alvin replied. He grinned, grabbed the paper off the table, and said, "I think I'll go tell it what's in store for it."

"Now, you know I hate it when you do that, Alvin," Mindy began, but after seeing the joy on his face she relented. "Fine, just take this with you." She took a large silver cross off the wall and handed it to him. "And don't do anything stupid. You know how dangerous this is."

"Of course, baby. You know I'll never leave you," Alvin said. Kissing her on the cheek for good luck, he set off.

Alvin and Mindy's house, like most houses in town, was a pleasant old 1950s-style dwelling along a street of several other identical houses interrupted now and then by empty lots. There wasn't a great deal of new construction in the sleepy hamlet of Quagmire, and most residents liked it just fine that way. The whole town was like one big extended family, its makeup not changing except for birth or death. In fact, thinking back, Alan realized that this Rev. Thorpe was one of the few people he'd ever known to move to Quagmire rather than away from it. But that was no matter. If the man could help, he could help.

With that hope fixed firmly in mind, he stepped outside to the shed in the back yard. Surrounded by crabgrass and poison ivy, it gave off an evil aura totally at odds with its pleasant landscaped surroundings. Alvin caught a faint stench, like mothballs and old fish, as he carefully nudged the door open and stepped inside, cross first.

"You thought you'd won, didn't you," he addressed the mostly empty shed. "You thought you'd disrupted our lives, tortured us, made us out to be lunatics, made us feel cursed and condemned. Well, you can just kiss those days goodbye," he exclaimed, shaking the paper in his fist. "A true man of God has finally come to town, and your reign is about to end. The light will shine in your dark heart, and you will not overcome it. Goodbye, now and forever!" He let the classified ad drop to the floor of the shed and backed out, still holding the heavy cross protectively in front of him.

Back in a corner of the now-darkened shed, an off-brand PC displayed an incredibly rude gesture on its monitor and sat thinking dark thoughts to itself.

*	*	*
(From the Quagmire Star Journal classified ads, Friday, June 12)



Do you feel as if your computer is taking control of your life? Do strange, inexplicable
system errors make you take the Lord's name in vain and separate you from God? My
friends, your salvation is at hand! I am fully MCSE-certified from JSSTCS, with all the
skills and utilities I need to put God back in your computer! I'll send your demons to the
recycle bin!
Call (958) 864-9826 or write to: 
Rev. Billy Joe Bob Thorpe
100 Piety Road
Quagmire, IA 84213



I'll take the pentagram out of your Pentium!
*	*	*

Banishing all thoughts of the neurotic Gibbs family, Rev. Thorpe opened his desk drawer to prepare for his imminent appointment. He removed two small disc magnets and attached one to each cuff of his suit coat in place of a button. Casting an eye at his wall clock, he decided not to take the time to put on a real necktie and instead withdrew a clip-on paisley horror from the bowels of his desk.

Just as he finished adjusting his tie to look normal, a middle-aged couple crept timidly into his office, holding between them a perfectly ordinary personal computer. "Rev... Reverend Thorpe?" the woman stuttered. "It's... the Friersons? Rita and Keith? Your, you know, 8:30 appointment? We spoke on the phone?" As she spoke, her eyes moved in random mathematical patterns, never looking directly at him, her husband, or the computer she held. In fact, most of the time she looked as far away from the machine as she could. The few times her eyes did stray towards it, she choked off a sob and looked back up at the ceiling.

"Of course, of course. Here, let me take that for you. Now what seems to be your problem?" Rev. Thorpe smiled magnanimously, hefted the beige metal box, and set it down on his desk next to his own PC.

"Well, sir, maybe it would be best to show you," said Keith. He reached behind the computer, plugged the power cord into a convenient wall outlet, and turned on the machine. The boot process seemed normal enough, until it got to the point just before it would display the normal Windows startup screen. Instead, the dread Blue Screen of Death appeared, informing them of an illegal operation and a general protection fault, and offering to let them restart the machine. "You see, sir, this started a few days ago, and I counted and realized that it happened on exactly the 666th day after it was manufactured according to the serial number. We knew then that this was no ordinary bug, so we called you right away."

"Please, y- you have to help us!" Rita sobbed. "We're good people! We go to church every week! We don't deserve to have this awful cursed thing in our house!" After this, she could say no more. Her husband reached over and held her tight.

"Peace be with you, ma'am," Rev. Thorpe reassured her. "Now don't you worry. I'll have this thing out in just a few minutes."

He then shut off the computer, opened up the case, and placed his newly magnetized hands directly on top of the hard drive. "In the name of Oracle, and of Sun, and of Apple Computer, I command you, demon, disperse! Let your system errors be gone to the logic trap from whence they came and let the light of the desktop shine forth once more!" Still keeping his hands on top of the drive, he reached to the back of the CPU and hit the power switch once more. This time, a BIOS report flashed on the screen informing all present the disk “C:” had been successfully erased, and would they please press F1 to continue? "There, you see? The computer, having adapted to the demonic presence, now can no longer recognize its own components without one. I am afraid that this means you've lost all the data stored on that drive."

"But the demon is gone, right?" Hope shone anew on Rita's face. "I can deal with losing my recipes, but please, is it gone? Will it come back?"

"Ma'am, I assure you, the presence of God now fills this computer so fully that it's almost too holy for me to touch." Rev. Thorpe reached under his desk and showed the Friersons another hard drive, outwardly identical to the one he had just exorcised save for a crucifix imprinted on the top. "And if you put this drive in your machine, it'll stay that way. It's 10 gigabytes, 5200 RPM, and blessed and absolutely guaranteed to last a lifetime against all forms of demonic possession. If you use this, you'll never have to worry about a demon in your machine ever again."

"Well... that's half the size of the drive I have now... but if it's good against demons... how much would that cost?" asked Keith.

"Sir, I couldn't possibly presume to ask a fee for spreading the love of God to all corners of the electronic world."

"Oh, well, we couldn't possibly leave you without anything. Isn't that right, Keith?" Rita subtly jabbed her husband in his right kidney with her elbow.

"Uh! Ah, of course! Couldn't possibly. Pastor Thorpe, my wife and I would like to present you with a donation of one hundred –" another jab "– er, two hundred dollars for all you've done for us."

"Why, that's right generous of you, sir." Rev. Thorpe stepped forward to shake his hand.

"Thank you so much. The Lord be with you. I'm sorry to be hustling you out, but I have another appointment in a few minutes to discuss a TV special we're having Sunday night. Perhaps you'll tune in?" He was in full salesman mode now, grinning and head-bobbing adroitly. "You can see my secretary on your way out about that donation. Again, thank you very much."

"Oh, we should be thanking you so much! Goodbye, Pastor," Rita said as she and Keith picked up their now holy machine and headed out. The Rev. Thorpe remained smiling for a few minutes, visions of dollar signs dancing in his head. How easily he could manipulate these Quagmire folk!

He sat back behind his desk and removed his magnets before picking up the phone. They were convenient for perpetuating fraud, but it was impossible to have a static-free phone conversation without one. Searching through the caller ID, he found the number of the Gibbs, who had called him that morning about their machine. He dialed, but an answering machine picked up. "Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs, this is Pastor Billy Joe Bob Thorpe. When we spoke earlier this morning, I neglected to mention to you that I'm hosting a TV special this Sunday night dedicated to healing problems exactly like the one you have. If you'd like, you can come to the broadcast, and I can see if I can help you then. The Lord works just as well in public as in private, after all. It'll be shown live from the sanctuary of our church, so all you'll need to do is bring yourselves and your computer down there for 7:00 Sunday evening. I hope to see you there."

With that matter taken care of, he turned to his own computer (which used one of the same hard drives he'd just given the Friersons) and began composing his sermon for Sunday night. This would require more work than the usual spiel, as it would have to dazzle not just a few people, but the whole studio and television audience. He'd have to be brilliant to put them in his spell. The sound of cash registers filled his head as he typed.

*	*	*
(From the Quagmire Star Journal daily television listings, Sunday, June 14)



[13] - "Byte Satan Back" (7:00) - A half-hour special hosted by the Rev. Billy Joe Bob
Thorpe. Computers healed, sermons preached, donations accepted.
*	*	*

"Good evening!" he said to the assemblage. "I'm so glad to see you all here, united against the evil threat to our livelihoods. Of course, I speak of the evil demonic menace that brings us all here today. All of you have seen the terror wrought by these insidious beasts. I'm here to tell you, they must not be allowed to win! We can and will prevail over this evil! All these people here" (He swept one hand out in a gesture to include the front row of the audience, set aside for people he'd already ministered to in private.) "have seen the light and known the glory. Are you willing to fight the menace that haunts your hard drive? Will you take up arms against the evil that molests your motherboard? Remember, with the Lord on your side, you will always prevail. No demon can withstand the light of the True Code. Let us pray." He bowed his head. "Oh God who stood with Abraham and Isaac in the days of the UNIVAC, grant us now the perfect peace and serenity that comes from the knowledge of your son Jesus Christ, who scans our hearts for the virus called sin. Let the zero sectors of our hearts remain always pure, and remind us daily that the machines that serve us must always serve you as well. Amen." He looked up, eyes shining with excitement. "The Lord is with us. Now let's 'Byte Satan Back!" Cheers and applause greeted him as he descended from the pulpit to minister to the ailing machines.

"You sir, what is your name?" he asked one man with a laptop.

"Steve Dixon, sir. Sir, my computer, it's gone crazy! It keeps telling me there's something called a .dll missing! A demon took away the Divine Loving Law from me, I just know it!"

"Calm down, son, calm down. We'll root the devil out." Placing one hand over the screen, applying a subtle pressure with his fingertips to cause the flat-panel display to warp and change color, he addressed the computer while waving the other just above the keyboard. "Yes, I feel a powerful one in there!" Pointing to the rippling screen, he continued, "You see how it reacts to the presence of a Godly man!" Now addressing the screen itself, he commanded it, "SATAN! In the name of Oracle, and of Sun, and of Apple Computer, I command you, begone!" And lo, at that moment the screen did go black, the magnets having permanently erased the hard drive, which controlled the image it displayed. "You see once again, my son, that demons cannot stand the awesome power of the Lord!"

On the floor a few rows back there was a curious sight indeed. A man and a woman, each brandishing a large metal cross, stood on opposite sides of a rattling steel cage. The PC inside it growled and hissed curses at the people around, and at random intervals arced electricity from its power supply to keep the braver members of the congregation back. The woman saw the reverend and shouted to him, "Pastor Thorpe! Thank God! Come here, quickly, before someone gets hurt!"

Pastor Thorpe did not like the this situation one bit, but strove to keep the look of fear from his face as the TV camera followed him down the aisle. A real demon? Who expected to have to deal with them anymore? They hadn't told him how to deal with those at the Johnny Studebaker School of Theology and Computer Science. Still, he pressed on. Maybe he'd be lucky and there was just a mouse trapped in the case or something.

"Pastor Thorpe, thank God you found us! I'm Alvin Gibbs, and this is my wife Mindy. We told you about our problem on the phone the other day." Indeed, the good reverend well remembered that odd conversation. Looking at the menace before him, he now understood exactly why Mr. Gibbs had thanked him for saving their lives as a bolt of electricity made his hair stand up. "Please, do what you can. We were able to force it into the cage with the crosses, but I don't think it will hold very long!"

Not knowing quite what else to do, Rev. Thorpe knelt beside the case. Tentatively, he reached one hand out to touch the bars. The possessed PC edged closer, still muttering curses at God and the angels and everyone present in the room. Rev. Thorpe intended to pull back his hands, but the computer suddenly put its side right next to the bars and gave a lurch that pushed the cage forward and put its case in direct contact with the pastor's magnets.

He knew he was in real trouble as he came into contact with it. This one he could actually feel, the dark presence surrounding him, filling him, infusing his being with darkness and scorn for all things divine. He tried his best to say something, anything, a blessing or a curse or even just a scream, but the demon had completely seized all his bodily control.

After an eternity (or maybe just a second) of sitting paralyzed on the floor, he became aware of a voice in his head, a voice like ten thousand tuning forks scraped on ten thousand blackboards, resonating and filling his head with an infernal cacophony. “So... we finally meet,” it "said." “I have heard much of you, Reverend Billy Joe Bob Thorpe. I was told that your power exceeded all other men, that you would drive me out, and that I was helpless in your path. But now I see you, and I see that you were never any such thing as a holy man to begin with. In your farce of a "ministry," you have done more for the cause of me and my kind against the One Most High than I could ever hope to do. I will leave now, and I say... thank you...”

The computer suddenly ceased its cursing and electrical outbursts. It stopped all movement and became once more a hunk of sheet metal, plastic, and silicon. The congregation cried, "HALLELUJAH!" with one voice. But to the Reverend Billy Joe Bob Thorpe, all was blackness, then and forever.

*	*	*
(From the Quagmire Star Journal local news section, Monday, June 15)



Town Mourns Beloved Reverend



Quagmire residents were in shock last night as the Rev. Billy Joe Bob Thorpe, well-loved
computer healer, suffered a massive coronary and died last night during the broadcast of
his live television special, "Byte Satan Back."



Witness reports from the scene were confused, owing to the general panic caused by his
collapse. Police questioned one woman, Susan Walker, who was standing just behind
Rev. Thorpe when he died. Said Ms. Walker, "It was that computer! It done told him
something and made his heart just give out right on the spot. Lordy, I'm glad I don't own
me one of them devil machines!"



Reports of supernatural influence aside, doctors at St. Eric's hospital emergency room
confirmed that Rev. Thorpe died at the scene. One doctor who asked not to be named
told reporters that the church leader had apparently not been in the best physical
condition before his attack and suffered from high cholesterol in addition.



Funeral services will be held Wednesday at Rev. Thorpe's church, St. Stephen's First
Christ United Evangelical Full-Gospel Family Church. Wireless Internet access will be
provided.