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The General was cc’d by an avenging angel who, given the job of looking after the estate of a Mr. Christ, sent Mel Gibson a missive laying out, in terms any armageddonist could understand, a cease to exist order. Oh, and Mr. Christ wrote a song to Mel too, but used me as his beard!

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Mel, I hate to infringe
But on me you have impinged
You will probably be real singed
When I burn you, baby, burn

Mel, you took the pledge
Against a graven image
Come down from that dangerous ledge
So I can teach and you can learn

(chorus, in which Jesus screams)
My death sucked
My death sucked
I hate to be reminded
That my death sucked
I was so fucked
Seriously fucked

Mel, you tried all the drugs
Until the walls were crawling with bugs
All you needed were kisses and hugs
And three hours of me in Hell

Mel, come answer the door
I have come to ask you for more
I am the Lord, and we’re in a war
Ha, ha—gonna ring your bell

(chorus, in which Jesus screams)
My death sucked
My death sucked
I hate to be reminded
That my death sucked
I was so fucked
Seriously fucked

Mel, you found the fashion
Of profiting from my Passion
Of holy shit you’ll get your ration
So take it all in stride

Mel, pray God has humor
Lest your money bring you tumors
At least that is the rumor
When you’re gone, no place to hide

(chorus, in which Jesus screams)
My death sucked
My death sucked
I hate to be reminded
That my death sucked
I was so fucked
Seriously fucked

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Image of Mel Gibson tugging at the hairs of his chinny-chin-chin from here.

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