A modern blasphemous take on a influential prophet

I was at the threshold of spilling my guts, I mean it’s not every other day Gabriel visits your CBD.



I first heard about it in the papers about a month ago “Gabriel the apostle is  this guy (or maybe I shouldn’t call him just a guy since that’d be like calling Gandhi a mere ‘guy’) has lived for thousands, millions of years; he gave the quran to Mohamed, he’s the messenger of god and many more accolades.


Before the day the one thing I was concerned about is that I didn’t know what to call this bloke; sir, prince, arch prince, your godliness – I just didn’t know!


So this holy day came (finally), everyone was excited and I just have to say that well... So was I! I prepared my finest clothing; a sharp blazer so sharp that it would hurt Gabes eyes, a tie handcrafted with such intricate patterns that it must’ve been the artist of the Sistine Chapel that designed it, pants that flowed so well with the rest of the outfit that it was chameleon like and some shoes I threw on.


Everyone gathered around the prophet in the townhall – so camped and crampy that it felt like what would probably be that one direction guy’s basement. And finally after some pushing, ducking and shoving I saw him. His godly necklace, his royal skin, his blue eyes, his tough complexion, he looked like all the paintings. He starting coming closer and closer and my anticipation was awaking, my heartbeat sped accordingly to the distance he was away from me. Closer and closer and before I knew it he was 2 metres to me; this peaked my heartbeat and… *barf* I spewed all over him and his godly necklace, his royal skin, his blue eyes, his tough complexion was all covered in my puke. Apparently Moses is coming next week… Oh shit!