Metatron the Rebel Angel

I jus’ been readin’ somethin’ ‘bout an angel called Metatron. Now, I don’t tend to bump into too many angels at the trailer park. Guess it jus’ aint that kinda neighborhood. Coupla whores with hearts o’ gold maybe but that’s as good as it gets.

Lemme tellya, I was a novice at St. Barbarella-of-the-Lash Convent… well, I was a novice till I got the hang of it. It was the gettin’ the hang of it that didn’t go down too good… or, to be precise, it was getting’ the hang of Father O’Flannigan but that’s another story.

Well we heard all ‘bout angels there but I never come across no Metatron though. How'd he ever get a cool name like that? I bet Gabriel was sore as hell (sorry Gabby, I mean sore as heck). I mean, a name like that really kicks ass, don’ it?

Now I still aint too sure who this Metatron is. Is he some kinda Avengin’ Angel? ‘Cos it sure sounds like it.

Now, I don’ wanna be disrespec’ful o’ Gabriel, I’m sure he’s a great guy… but can you imagine him confrontin’ a gang o’ crack-heads in Harlem? He’s only gotta say: “I AM GABRIEL!” an’ he’s gonna wind up in an alley with his halo round his neck an’ his wings up his ass.

Metatron sure sounds like the guy for that job. How come I aint heard o’ him before? Is he outa favor or what? I kinda imagine he’s a rebel angel. Y’know, a kinda maverick. Always bein’ bawled out by The Boss ‘cos they don’ approve o’ his methods but they hang on to him ‘cos he gets results.

I gotta tellya folks, jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout this guy makes me horny! I’m sure that would be regarded as a sin back at the convent but that aint nothin’ new. Sinnin’ was the only thing I excelled at. Everybody had their own special talent an’ mine was dirty habits (I aint talkin’ ‘bout laundry here. Know waddimean?)

Now I read Metatron was a scribe or somethin’. That’s kinda like a clerk, aint it? Anyhoo, he gets a lashin’ ‘cos he sat down in the presence o’ The Boss. Well, excuse me! That hardly counts as a sin in my book. Even the convent wasn’t that harsh an’ the nuns were real big on lashin’. I guess that was on account o’ St. Barbarella bein’ the Patron Saint o’ Guilt. She’d only havta hear o’ somebody havin’ an improper thought an’ she’d start lashin’ herself like a dogie in a fly-swarm. The nuns liked that.

Even after the episode with Father O’Flannigan I didn’t get a lashin’. I was “cast out”, though I like to think of it as “parole”.

I guess this Metatron musta caught The Boss on a bad day. I’ve wondered ‘bout this. The punishment don’ always fit the crime. Take the original sin. Y’know, eatin’ a banana. I know folks say it was an apple but there aint nowhere in the Bible that says it was an apple. Jus’ says it was a fruit. I reckon it was a banana.

Well adam an’ Eve been warned ‘bout keeping their thievin’ mitts off The Boss’s Bananas but Eve is tempted by a snake who says “Ooh! Lovely bananas! C’mon, honey… who’s gonna know? Have a banana” an’, as we all know, Eve gives in. Then she ropes poor ol’ Adam into her crime. She sidles up to him kinda sly an’ says “Wanna bite o’ my banana?”

He says “Where’d ya get that?”

She says “Never mind, honey. Jus’ have a bite” so Adam takes a bite.

Well, the rest is history but I wanna talk about the punishments dished out. First up, Adam gets the “Toil All Your Days” rap. Life sentence o' Hard Labor jus’ for takin’ a bite of a banana. Then Eve, who committed the crime o' sharin' a banana, gets the Pain o’ Childbirth thing (I think the cleanin’, cookin’ an’ pickin’ up dirty socks were thrown in for good measure).

By this time, the snake musta been sweatin’ like a bishop in a whorehouse (an' I should know 'bout that). But what does he get? Bearin’ in mind that he started the whole thing, he gets told he gotta crawl on his belly for all his days! Well, that musta been tough for a snake, eh? That’s the surfin’ skateboardin’ an’ football screwed! What the hell kinda justice is that?? I guess that’s why snakes always look like they’re smilin’.

So I reckon this Metatron got a raw deal an’ I kinda relate to him. I’m puttin’ my name down to have him as my Guardian Angel. Jus’ hope he aint fully booked.

And, hey… if he ever feels like rekindlin’ a little o’ the ol’ sinnin’, my door’s always open. Know waddimean?