“I mean, reaaaly, everyone knows god died last year.” “Oh? How did that happen?” “Well, the story is that one day a bunch of queens knocked on the pearlies and Gabriel being, you know, sympatico, invited them in. The queens were lounging on a fluffy, pink cloud combing their heavenly white wigs when god spotted them. ‘Not on my clouds you don’t,’ he screeched and ordered all the queens off his clouds. Well, you can imagine, after they split, things got pretty dull on those clouds. I mean absolutely nothing of any interest was happening. Then word came back that all the queens were having a really hot time in their new home. JC, who was tired anyway of sitting on god’s left hand, split to join his friends. God, always uptight about what the neighbors would think, simply died of mortification.”

— The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, Ned Asta