I mentioned the other day about my girlfriend Sissy's inspiration and training to become a prophetess. Well, all I can say about her appearance last night at the Refreshing Holy Ghost Pentecostal Church is "wow."
Outside of almost getting carjacked, the trip downtown to the church was uneventful, and we arrived early so the Prophetess could warm up. The Refreshing Holy Ghost is a large, well-kept church in a miserable part of town. Nearly all the congregation is black and low income, so we were a little concerned how we'd be received. Well, we shouldn't have been, as they made us feel right at home.
After a great introduction by Bishop Jackson ("We're honored to have God's anointed servant sent to bless us tonight with Holy Ghost favor, healing, and the prophetic word!"), Prophetess Sissy ran onstage to thunderous applause wearing a tight purple dress, fishnets, sequined stilettos, and draped in nearly $70 worth of gaudy costume jewelry that made the whole ensemble really pop.
In a dynamic and powerful move, she made a beeline for Bishop Jackson and before he could get away she launched into some of her best tongues yet ("SHAMBALA EQUINOS DAMBALISA RAMBASHAMA!!"), then slapped his forehead with her big beefy palm, sending him careening backward into the drum set and onto the floor, where he vibrated and convulsed as the Holy Spirit tased the crap out of him. The crowd went absolutely wild!
A prophetess was born.
Feeding on the energy, Prophetess Sissy jumped to the floor and approached the front row where the sick and afflicted were waiting for their miracle. Obviously going for it, she went straight to an old black lady in a wheelchair and ordered her to stand in the name of Jesus. The woman struggled with all her might as Sissy screamed for the devil to let loose of her. Slowly, the woman lifted herself off the seat by her arms, and with a flourish, Prophetess Sissy kicked the wheelchair into what appeared to be an autistic boy and a couple of crack whores.
Apparently lacking faith, not to mention both legs, the woman went sprawling. I was worried, but Sissy didn't miss a beat as she stood over the woman commanding her to grow new legs. The woman started jerking around on the floor then yelled that she felt legs growing! Hallelujah! Everybody started dancing as the pianist hammered out some lively "overcoming all obstacles" music. Prophetess Sissy hopped around praising God and ordered her assistants to drag the woman backstage so her legs could finish growing.
Dispensing with needless chit-chat, the Prophetess went down the line punching one person after another in the forehead while shouting "FIRE ON YA!" Bodies went flying faster than the handlers could catch them, and in one incredible display of Christ's gentle mercy, Prophetess Sissy sent half the choir flying from the risers onto the pavement below with merely a sweep of her Holy Ghost-wielding arm! It was incredible!
By the end of the night, at least 6 people had been cured of cancer and another 30 - 40 were cured of everything from arthritis to Jimmy legs. Even a blind man experienced significant improvement, only to suffer an unfortunate loss of coordination that resulted in him breaking a leg that Sissy will heal later. The climax of the evening was me wheeling the first old lady out on stage wearing my tennis shoes I'd stuck on her stumps. It was a real crowd pleaser and the kind of big finish that only God could inspire.
All in all, the night was a rousing success, with Prophetess Sissy receiving a love gift of over $230 for only two hours work, not counting the $20 tucked into her cleavage by the grateful guy she cured of sexual addiction, praise the Lord! The good news is that by noon today Sissy already had four more requests for appearances - some even out-of-state! Apparently, God wants us filthy rich, and that's fine with us.
Click, retard
