In my last episode of “Friends You’d Rather Not Have”, I mentioned the fake friend. Well, allow me to roll out the red carpet and give you the full, absurdly glamorous introduction.
Apparently, the devil has a Netflix subscription to my life and decided there’s no rush — he’s got all eternity to break me. This time, he sends his top demon dressed in “friend” couture. And who knows? Maybe the plot twist is that one day he becomes my mentor! You know, because when friendship fails, you just slap on a new label and hope no one notices.
First, he tries the “I’m your buddy” routine. Fails miserably. Then, he swaps to the “wise mentor” mask — which also falls off faster than cheap sunglasses. Finally, he tries the “gatekeeper” act, because nothing says spiritual awakening like someone at a cosmic nightclub telling you you’re not on the list.
Here’s his sales pitch:
- As a friend: “Listen to my thoughts on marriage. I care about you.”
- As a mentor: “Accept my betrayals. They’re holy lessons.”
- As a gatekeeper: “Abandon your family and change your religion if you want to ‘cross the gate.’”
And I thought spiritual awakening meant finding like-minded people to guide me. Silly me. Turns out, the so-called enlightened folks are just bouncers for a system they profit from. They don’t want you in; they want you broke, tired, and grateful for their scraps.
They’ll block your job opportunities just to watch you squirm until you surrender and join their little cult of “awakened” opportunists.
This whole drama began as a game invented by the Elite. They owe me for the suffering and defamation they caused, but when the devil himself waltzed in promising to cover the bill, they thought: Perfect! Why pay when evil is willing to handle the check?
The demon enters the scene as “the friend who’s here to help.” Then come the little betrayals — harmless enough, unless you count the part where he sees traps being set for me and plays blind.
I catch on, call him out, he apologizes, I offer him a commission just to keep the peace. But he’s greedy. If he can make me look like I can’t handle money, he gets to keep it all.
His Plan B? Hurt-by-proxy — didn’t work. So he steps in personally.
Step 1: Start telling people I’ll change my religion, knowing my family will lose it.
Step 2: Spread gossip about my family and convince me they’ve turned against me.
Step 3: Offer himself as the loving replacement family… complete with a side of evil deeds.
My response? I tell him I’m not abandoning my family, and if he keeps testing me, his commission drops.
Naturally, he doesn’t stop. Now he’s spinning tales about how I “hate the Elite” — even though I’ve never met them. I tell him I don’t hate anyone, but some people earn respect and some don’t. “Take yourself as an example,” I add.
Now, with no fresh material, he’s just stuck replaying the same broken record. And the authorities? They’re sitting front-row with popcorn.
So, what’s next in this soap opera? I guess we’ll see — assuming the Devil’s production budget hasn’t run out.
