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Dante's Inferno: 2005 Version - Written by Dante Giovanni

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: VIAGRA AD0BE SAVE MONEY SEX NOW!!!!!!!!!!

Yo, badda-bing badda-boom! Do I got a story to tell to you! Well, after I eat this pizza pie. Oh damn, I got sauce in my keyboard. I gotta take this thing to the cleaners now.

Okay, I shot my old keyboard and got a new one. Anyway, my name is Dante Giovanni. My great great great....really great grandfather was named Dante. I don't think he had a last name. Anyway, my amazingly great grandfather wrote some poems about Heaven and Hell or something. They were so good that the emperor of Rome offed him. I don't quite understand the logic there, but it probably had something to do with grandpa Dante not paying Roman protection money or something. I think some Vergil guy had something to do with it. Whatever. Now, the reason I have a story to tell to you is simply because my parole officer said I had to tell someone a story on the Internet. So I decided to take my great grandfather's idea and make a modern version of it, because I'm not really creative and that's the best I can come up with. Mind you, this is based on a true story that was inspired by a real story that was taken from the movie "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues," staring Uma Thurman and Keanu Reeves. I hope you like it Mr. Parole Officer, because if you don't then I'll just get some other guy to write me a stupider story and you'll have to read it!

So anyway, I was lying in my bed minding my own business. All of a sudden, a cloaked man appeared out of nowhere and started talking about Christmas past. I told him he was visiting the wrong person, and that Scrooge was five doors over and he left. If this hasn't happened every night, I would probably be more scared. So I pulled up the covers and went back to bed with visions of dead parole officers in my head. Of course, I couldn't get a good nights rest because another shadowy figure appeared before me. Well, he was more fat than shadowy...but whatever. He woke me up and I jumped up in a start. This was none other than wacko talk radio host RUSH LIMBAUGH! What would he want with me? That question was soon answered when he told me that he was going to take on a tour of Hell for no real apparent reason. I would have declined, but I figured I could write a good story about it so I went. In a puff of smoke, Rush and I disappeared from my Goodfellas adorned room.

Did I mention I closed my eyes before? Well I did, and now I opened them. I was a bit shocked to see a place that didn't look like Hell at all. This place had white puffy clouds and choirs and beams of light. It looked more like Heaven to me. I looked at the fat radio host confusedly and asked him if he took me to the wrong place. He shook his head after snorting some Oxycotton, and told me that this was Purgatory. Apparently, Christians went here because they picked the wrong faith. The right faith, Rush told me, was Mormonism. The Christians were punished by being in a fake Heaven, which didn't seem like much of a punishment at all. I guess Hell was under new management or something like that. Rush took me through the gate so he can start my guided tour of Hell. I flicked a cherub aside and followed through the gate.

Okay, so Purgatory seemed pretty bland. I figured Hell was a pretty easy place after seeing that. Boy was I wrong. I found myself in the first level of Hell, which looked similar to a sleazy hotel. Well actually, I think it was a Hilton hotel that was really trashed. In fact, I think I saw this hotel room somewhere. For some reason it was painted green, which also seemed oddly familiar as well. I looked at Rush for explanation, and after he proclaimed global warming did not exist seventy times, he told me this was the first level of Hell. He went further by explaining it was where Paris Hilton and everyone like her were damned to spend eternity in. He didn't explain anymore, because I got to see the horrible punishment these sinners had to go through. First, the sinner was thrown down on a bed and then some demons had a wild orgy with them until they started bleeding from their various orifices. After that, they were completely healed and the same thing happened again and again. I winced at the blood curdling moans and screams, but then I saw a video camera that was taping these wild orgies. Rush explained that these videos are sent to the Internet, and the demons make a ton of money from www.wilddemonbloodorgies.com. These guys sure knew how to run a criminal empire. After Rush and I watched Paris Hilton and some Paris Hilton look-a-likes get bloodied up five times, we went deeper into this Hell place.

So now I was feeling different about this Hell place. Okay, the Heaven thing was a bit sloppy but that blood orgy Internet business would rack in tons of money. If I coulda offed the guy who ran this place, I would own this underworld of crime myself! It was the perfect plan, I think. Anyway, Rush pointed to a room filled with men with cameras. This seemed like an odd punishment room, so I asked what the deal was. After sucking the penises of various prominent Republican party members, he told me that this was where documentary makers went. He pointed to that guy from Supersize Me, who had to eat Michael Moore over and over again for eternity. He then pointed to the guy who made Outfoxed, who was forced to watch Fox News for eternity. I saw no profit in these punishments, but I thought it was pretty ironic and funny that the Supersize Me guy had to eat Michael Moore. Rush continued talking about this level, and he told me that the cameras filmed the punishment. After filming, the demons in charge of this level would make documentaries while cutting important footage out. After that, they started selling them to big Hollywood film studios like Lion's Gate and....okay they only sold them to Lion's Gate. You may remember the hit documentary from 1999, "Hell Hath No Fury Like Hell," because like five people thought it was good. You might be one of the five. Rush tapped me on the shoulder because I was talking to the reader again, and he took me to the next level of Hell. I managed to steal a copy of "FahrenHELL 9/11" before we left.

Next we would enter level three of Hell, and I was on my last continue with three guys left. Hopefully I could find a 1-Up Brimstone around here, because I certainly needed it. Anyway, Rush and I found ourselves in a room that looked like a big hospital. It was filled with large baby carriages, which were filled with people who appeared to be famous. Okay, this made no sense at all. Luckily, Rush informed me what this level of Hell was all about. Well, first he tried to sell me a completely unbiased and unslanted subscription to the Limbaugh Letter. I declined simply because no decent person should have to pay money to listen to a fat man shove propaganda down their throat. Anyway, Rush told me this was the level of Hell where people got punished for giving their children stupid names like "Rush" or "Wonderful." Here demons constantly changed the names of people who named their children stupidly. That didn't seem like a bad punishment, but Rush told me that these parental sinners eventually had to see their children kill themselves because they had such stupid names. Since this was Hell and stuff, it happened every thirty seconds. I thought it was pretty gruesome stuff, and Rush waved to his parents as we left. To the next level of Hell we would go.

As we were walking to the next level of Hell, I could hear loud music playing. Well, I guess it was fitting to have a rock concert in Hell. Anyway, Rush took me to an actual rock concert...in Hell. There were millions of sinners here, moshing and rocking out. It seemed pretty cool. I looked to Rush and he started complaining about Satanic lyrics or something that I tuned out. He then went on to explain that this is where people who act stupid at concerts went. They got to listen to The Damned, certainly the most ironic band that could play in Hell, and got to slam dance to their music as much as they wanted. Of course, since slam dancing is stupid they all died...only to come back to life moments later. After the concert was over, the sinners would find out that The Damned ran away and they had to run after them. Every sinner eventually would get trampled, and then the whole process would repeat again and again for all eternity. Rush also pointed to the special place the band Creed had in this level of Hell. The members of Creed were used as stage props for the Damned. They were crucified continually because the lead singer thought he was Jesus. Rush and I soon got out of this sold out concert, and on to level five of Hell we scampered.

So there we were, two completely different men going to the next level of Hell. Why, if we were any more different there would have to be a sitcom about it, but I probably stole that joke from Family Guy. Anyway, the hallway that lead to the fifth level of Hell had several crude children's drawings all over it. I looked closer and noticed that they were all done in crayon. Rush started mumbling something or other about Feminazis not disciplining their children in Hell, and then proceeded to freebase some Oxycotton for no apparent reason. So anyway, we finally made it to level five of Hell, and it looked like a playground. Their were millions of people here, coloring in some book for some reason. Rush explained that this was the special place in Hell for the people who just won't learn to color. I rolled my eyes, because that was a seriously long way to go for a Dead Milkmen joke. So these poor slobs had to color inside a Methodist coloring book, but they could never color inside the lines. The mere fact that they couldn't color inside the lines made them go insane with "Notbeingabletocolorinthelinesitis," which is a disease some demons made in Hell. This disease causes sinners to drown in wax for all eternity, only to be brought back to life to color outside the lines anew. Rush told me that the sinner wax was sold on the market as "Sinner Wax," and it was used to make wax fruit for crazy artists and weird goth kids who buy stuff from Hell. They seemed to make quite a profit from this too, which I guess would make sense since it is Hell. Rush and I left this coloring Hell, which I might add smelt like children, quickly. Onward we would go to the next level of Hell and have many an adventure!

Just a quick note, an adventure with Rush Limbaugh in Hell is not what you get. No, you get more of a sales pitch to buy crap. That would make sense, since it is Hell so whatever. Anyway, Rush and I could hear the frantic typing from the next level of Hell as we approached. I think it was typing anyway, it was a bit hard to tell since fat boy was trying to sell me an office chair or something. I ignored his talk like most people, and we headed into level six of Hell. It was a badly lit office cubicle, or at least it looked like one. There were many people crammed in a small space typing on very very small computers for some reason. Rush explained that these people were Internet humor writers. They were doomed to an eternity of writing vaguely funny things that nobody would ever read. The punishment, Rush went on to tell me, was that the computers eventually deleted all of their mildly funny rants. Well, it doesn't actually delete them...it just ships them to Fox and let's them make horrible sitcoms out of them. Rush told me they use a special humor strainer to get all of the humor out of the show too. Frankly, this place scared me. I mean, it smelled funny and there were a lot of half-nude posters of Wonder Women for some reason. I pulled his fatness out of here as soon as possible, because this place really scared me. Also, some weird sinner guy yelled at me for stealing jokes from Family Guy and South Park in this story, but then his eyes exploded for no reason. So on we went, to the seventh and final level of this Hell.

Before we even entered the final chamber of Hell, Rush started laughing like a madman. I think he was overdosing or something, so I just shook it off as the crazy drug delusions of a psychopathic radio host. Anyway, we entered the room quite quickly. Boy was I shocked at what I saw! It was a room filled with various pundits and radio personalities. Why, that was Ann Coulter getting shot in the head with a giant metal cross. Hey, I recognized that fellow....it was Tucker Carlson and his head was getting chopped off by a rotating bow tie of doom. Oh look, it's that Combs guy and his eyes are getting gouged out by giant combs. Oh, and there's Sean Hannity with Bill O'Rieley, and it looks like a giant black woman from a talk show is screaming at them for all eternity. I was confused and looked to Rush for an explanation. After cackling like a thing that cackles, Rush explained to me that this is where the media goes. All of it, because everyone that wasn't Rush Limbaugh was part of the evil liberal media. Okay, that made sense in a completely nonsensical way. I was quite pleased seeing a prostitute licking Howard Stern's anus and infecting him with new STDs. By pleased I mean disgusted, but whatever. Anyway, Rush started walking to a throne adorned with human skulls. He then sat in it, and showed me the person who got punished the most. It was Al Franken, and apparently Al Franken had to spend all eternity being eaten by a robot version of Rush Limbaugh himself.

So I saw all of Hell. Pretty gruesome, and definitely profitable. There was one thing that didn't click with me though. Rush Limbaugh was the ruler of Hell? I thought Satan was the ruler of Hell. So I asked the stupidly named fat guy about this. Rush gladly informed me that his cousin Satan, the ruler of Hell, went down to Georgia for a vacation. He told me that the Devil needed some escape from fire and brimstone, plus he really wanted some peaches. Anyway, Rush and I made a deal and now I get kickbacks from Hell money.

So there you have it, my version of the Inferno. Hopefully this will be a wonderful children's story and it will fulfill my parole. Now then, I hope I never have to write another story again.

Sincerely,

Dante "I'm Gonna Kill Ya" Giovanni

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