Ben opened his eyes and saw Jerry standing in the buff next to a curled up naked lady.
The dame clung to a massage table as beads of sweat trickled down her neck.
“Jerry, where are we?”
“Buddy, you’re not going to believe this but we’re in hell.”
“WTF—after all the good causes we supported while we were on planet Earth. This is our payment. This is our just reward. This ain’t fair.”
“Yeah Jer, it ain’t fair but we musta done something awfully wrong because yesterday, I woke up in this white room on that black leather massage table.”
Ben pointed at the table and the lady resting on it and continued, “I met Magda and she said, ‘Welcome to hell, Mr. Cohen.’”
“How did she know your name?”
“I haven’t a clue but she definitely knew I was Jewish. The circumcision, I guess.”
“How did we die? I bet it was from eating all that ice cream. All that sugar, saturated fat and calories hardened our arteries and made us fat. I told you we should have eaten more yogurt. But you refused to listen. I knew death was around the corner.”
“Ben, please focus on the big picture. Ice cream may have killed us but we’re in hell. Eating ice cream is not a mortal sin. Well, I guess eating too much of it is gluttony. Ice cream doesn’t come with such a complex penalty. I’m wondering if our trip to Hades had anything to do with our support for Ben and Jerry’s boycotting Samaria and Judea. Maybe they cursed us.”
“Ben, who cursed us? Do you think we were cursed by those settlement rabbis? The ones that wrote us those nasty letters.”
“Yeah, like the Kennedy curse—that plague that Rabbi Israel Jacobson placed on the Kennedy family. You remember that story about Joseph Kennedy, that infamous anti-Semite and JFK’s dad.”
“I kinda do.”
Well, in 1937, Joseph was the US ambassador to the United Kingdom. He was on a ocean liner crossing the Atlantic to get back to the States. That ship also carried Rabbi Israel Jacobson, a poor Lubavitcher, and six of his yeshiva students. These seven Yids were fleeing the horrors of Nazi Germany. Well, Kennedy complained to the ship’s captain about the distracting noises coming from the mouths of the Jewish passengers praying on Rosh Hashanah. Kennedy demanded that the Jews be forbidden to continue praying because it was bothering him and his fellow passengers.
Well, that pissed off Rabbi Jacobson. So the rabbi in retaliation put a whammy of a curse on Kennedy—damning him and his male offspring to tragic fates.”
“So you mean, we’re stuck in hell because we pissed off some Judean and Samarian rabbis who put the evil eye on us.”
“Yup. We should have kept out mouths shut; been a little less anti-Zionistic.”
“Jerry, changing the subject a bit, why are we naked and who is that dame?”
“Ben, I haven’t a clue as to why we are naked. I guess the Beelzebub is into nudism. But I know the dame’s name. It’s Magda. Supposedly, she was a big shot in Germany.”
“By any chance, did she say her last name was Goebbels?”
“Yeah, I think she did say that.”
“And you schtupped her. Didn’t you?
I can tell by your stupid grin, the look on her face and those beads of sweat clinging to her neck.”
Ben closed his eyes and screamed, “Jer, you stupid jerk! You schtupped Magda Goebbels! She was one of the highest ranking female Nazis in all of Germany. Her husband was Hitler’s propaganda minister. I guess you do belong in hell.
Ben opened his eyes, glanced at Magda and cringed.
She stared right back at him with her Mephistophelean smile. A smile that said, “Buddy, now it’s your turn.”
Postscript
Readers respond to B&J series of blogs:
Dear Mr. Laitner:
Please cease and desist writing anymore articles about us.
We do not find them humorous nor witty.
Please do the world a favor and stop writing short stories.
Signed—Ben and Jerry
