• Amazon
• Direct from WWSD?

Note: Barnes & Noble isn’t selling the paperback yet. If you want that, use one of the other links. Also, if you want a signed copy, buy “Direct from WWSD?” and add a note at check out. The paperback is $9.50 at Amazon, $10.00 direct. The E-book is $.99.

Another Note: WWSD? is available to Kindle owners in the Amazon lending library. From what I understand, that means you can borrow it for free if you have a Kindle.

Last Note, I Promise: Lots of folks are stealing the book by torrenting it, which means if you really want a free copy, you can probably find it. Mu Torrent is a pretty good torrent client, if you’re into that sort of thing. This bums me out slightly, since I spent a couple of years working on this book, but it’s just how things go, I guess. If you go that route, I’d just ask that, if you like the book, you tell your friends about it.

If you want to read a sample first, you can download a PDF of the first 50 pages here.

Synopsis of What Would Satan Do?

Disgusted with God’s plan for Judgment Day, Satan has quit his job and abandoned Hell in favor of a quiet retirement in Washington, D.C. But life on Earth is tricky for an ex-angel with a short fuse and no impulse control. When a parking attendant mysteriously bursts into flames and a weight-challenged woman somehow ends up in low-Earth orbit, Satan finds that he has attracted the attention of several meddlesome federal agencies. Even worse, there are signs that the governor of Texas has somehow gone ahead and started up the end of the world without him.

The Prince of Darkness heads for the Lone Star State, where he tangles with a megalomaniacal televangelist, joins the Militant Arm of the American Geriatrics Association, and wields the Flaming Shotgun of Divine Justice at a guy whose hobbies include invading churches to denounce ritualized cannibalism. Through it all, one thing is clear: Someone has to put a stop to Judgment Day. Now, having spent millennia trying to wreck the place, the Devil may be the world’s only hope.

1. Driving Like Grandma – I’ve composed a poem to help me explain this one:
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
you’re driving too slow,
AND YOU SHOULD GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY RIGHT NOW MOTHERFUCKER! DIE! DIE! DIE!!

2. Being a Jonas Brother – I can’t believe how gay these guys are. And I don’t mean that in the sense that these guys like to get it on with each other after their shows (though I’m not willing to rule that out). What I’m talking about is their wankerish willingness to do whatever it takes to make their legions of teeniebopper fans squeal, whether it’s an dorkariffic fist pump, a fantastically-gay hair flip, or a wink into the camera that makes me want light an entire city on fire (yes, I watched the Grammys this year). It almost seems reasonable though, doesn’t it? After all, they’re just a bunch of young guys. Can we really expect that, faced with the prospect of making millions of dollars, and zillions of screaming fans of the opposite sex who want to tear their clothes off, they’ll really say “No, I will not act like a complete boner?” Well, no, we probably can’t expect that. But then can they really expect to act like they do and not end up in Hell? Nope, sorry. So there you go. Being a Jonas Brother is a deadly sin.

3. Liking Mayonaise – Apparently there is an all-mayonnaise restaurant in Japan. That’s just fucked up and disgusting. They’re all going to Hell, just as soon as I can figure out how to transport the whole fucked up, mayonnaise-drenched archipelago down there. The sick bastards.

Mayonnaise = SUCK

4. Not Being a Ninja – Yeah, I know I’m being a little hypocritical here, given what I had to say about the overbreadth of some of the stupid new deadly sins announced by the Vatican, but you gotta admit, ninjas are awesome.

Ninjas = AWESOME

Not being a ninja is only a sin if you’re a devout Catholic. I just want folks to have to go into the confessional and say, “Forgive me father for I have sinned: I am not a ninja.”

There are more, but I have to go conduct some experiments on some grandmas.

I’ve spent all my life in a small town, and now I’m thinking about moving to the big city, but I’m kind of nervous about the idea of being around so many people and people being rude and all that. What should I do?

Thanks,

Nervous

Dear Fuckingidiot:

Let me begin by saying this: YOU ARE STUPID AND I HATE YOU.

Now, having got that out of the way: I assume that you’re nervous because you’ve heard that the big city can be a hard, scary place, where people will be rude and cruel to you. Well, your anxiety is justified. People in cities suck. People everywhere suck. Even Mother Teresa sucked. It has nothing to do with the size of the city they live in. It only seems that way because there are more people in cities — more assholes in smaller, more confined spaces, so that you get a higher concentration of the inherently-flawed, me-first spirit of humanity.

Since I’ve come here, I’ve seen a bunch of films in which one character or the other says something about there being a little bit of God in each of you. I say: BULLSHIT. In fact, that’s only half the story — less than half, really. Yes, each of you has a spark of the divine. But it’s a really tiny spark. Minuscule even. And you actually have a much greater concentration of evil. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because good is dumb — who really cares? The sooner you accept this fact, the better off you’ll be. (And by “better,” I don’t mean “happier.” In fact, you’re much more likely to become a terrorist or serial killer or something.)

Viva La Revolucion

One of the movies I saw recently was called “Pay It Forward.” (Here’s the movie review part: This movie sucked. It’s as if the director just smeared excrement on several meters of celluloid and slapped a title on it.) I didn’t actually see the whole thing — I was too busy vomiting to finish — but I got the gist of it, which was that, if you ignore your fundamentally human impulse to be a gargantuan cock to anyone and everyone in your path; if you do the unexpected and are, God forbid, nice to someone, that person will think, “Huh, that was weird! Maybe I should be nice too,” resulting in a reverse cascade of niceness and a new, prettier and shinier utopia of peace, low inflation, and renewable energy. More likely, however, is that the recipient of your niceness will think, “What the fuck? What a dipshit!” And then he’ll probably cut you off, spit in your face, steal your money, call your grandmother a whore, and run you over.

So I hope everyone tries to pay it forward. In fact, I challenge you to try to pay it forward for, let’s say, 48 hours. Go to the city and fucking PAY IT FORWARD. See how long you can do it. See if you don’t emerge from the experiment an angrier, more mistrustful, and more hateful person. I submit that, if you all tried to pay it forward, we’d really see things go down the shitter. In fact, I’m reminded of a song: Let’s Have a War! by the band Fear:

There’s so many of us
There’s so many of us
There’s so many
There’s so many of us
There’s so many of us
There’s so many
There’s so many of us
There’s so many of us
There’s so many
There’s so many of us
There’s so many of us
There’s so many

Let’s have a war
So you can go and die!
Let’s have a war!
We could all use the money!
Let’s have a war!
We need the space!
Let’s have a war!
Clean out this place!

So that’s my advice for what you should do: (1) Quit being such a fucking pansy. (2) Move to the city. (3) Pay it forward. (4) Tell all your friends to do the same. (5) See what happens next.

The Most Foul, Cruel, and Bad-Tempered Rodent You Ever Set Eyes On

In other news, a batshit lady rented limousine and went around trying to give away money she didn’t win in the lottery. Apparently, the “victims” of this hoax went on a mad rampage, ripping shit up at a nearby clothing store.

Now that I’m retired, I read about stuff like this and I have to wonder: What the hell was I doing all those years? I’m not really sure that you folks ever needed any help from me.

WTF?

Build a church to me, and you can be sure that I won’t send a fucking tornado to tear it down.

So, this guy went through and figured out the score.  Of what, you ask?  The score of who is badder, of course, as between me or Him.  And, as you might have guessed, it is He who is badder; the Tyrannical one.  He who said to Job:

9 “Or do you have an arm like God,
And can you thunder with a voice like His?
10 “Adorn yourself with eminence and dignity,
And clothe yourself with honor and majesty.
11 “Pour out the overflowings of your anger,
And look on everyone who is proud, and make him low.
12 “Look on everyone who is proud, and humble him,

In other words, the God who gets to say what’s right and wrong, who doesn’t have to answer to you and your pitiful notions of justice because he is strong and majestic and can show up as a gigantic tornado and kick anyone’s ass–he has killed a fucking load of people.  Ready?

And the score is:  Me: 10  God: 2,301,417

That’s right.  If you go through the Bible, and you count up all the killings attributable to me, and all those attributable to His High and Mightiness, you’ll find that He has killed 2,301,407 more people than I have.

You have never seen, nor will you ever see, that many people all at once.

So who is badder?  And who is it that you should be more scared of?  Me?  Or Him?