I was driving through the fiercest global-warming-spawned blizzard ever, returning to my favorite gun-free zone, when an avalanche (like the one that killed Michael Jackson) buried me. I suspected that I would die soon (or soon enough) if Christ didn't intercede chop chop! I remembered several Bible verses and the Russian adage: βpray to God but row to shore.β I thought of my mother, Mather (Pa.), Jerry Mathers and the logic behind injecting pigeon **** to remove tattoos. Suddenly and unexpectedly out of nowhere demons pulled my car (with me in it) to safety. βHey, where's Jesus?β I asked. βHe'll be here in five minutes,β they answered. βFive minutes?β I guffawed & pshawed. βHe may as well not bother!β