March 20, 2025 • 13 mins
This week we meet Reverend Johnson. Reverend Johnsonlikes to run out of gas. In the old days heliked to run out for spiritual reasons. These days his reasons are more bodily in nature.But no matter, spiritual or physical, the Revhas found a way, as humans so aptly do, to justify hiscarnal delights while pledging his faith to God. And to Jesus.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:04):
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
This week we meet Reverend Johnson. Reverend Johnson likes to
(00:46):
run out of gas. In the old days, he liked
to run out for spiritual reasons, but these days his
reasons are more bodily in nature, but no matter or physical.
The Rev has found a way, as humans so aptly do,
to justify his carnal delights while pledging his faith in
(01:10):
God and in Jesus, Good God. The little ragtop sputters
and runs out of gas. Reverend Johnson smiles, no easy
chore getting the British racing green Mayata to run out
of gas. This sprightly but exceedingly frugal two point zero
(01:35):
in line four runs for miles on fumes and doesn't
demand high test. The cheapest off brand eighty seven octane
makes her run like a cheetah. In contrast, the Reverend's
previous roadster, an antique MGBGT, also in British or Racing Green,
(01:56):
demanded shell nitro super Premium ninety through octane or she
bitched like a Prima Donna rock and roll goddess, and
the second her gas gauge hit e, she sputtered and died.
Of course, the rev loved this feature because running out
of gas, after all, was the whole point of the exercise.
(02:18):
He especially loved that MGBGT because the Moody sports car
occasionally just conked out without rhyme or reason, bosh electrical
problems mostly, but pump even a gallon of crappy petrol
into her tank and the carburetor would clog like a
(02:39):
grease gunked drain and kill the GT dead in its tracks.
A very temperamental broad but still the Reverend loved those
unexpected breakdowns. The Mayata offers no such spontaneity. Closing in
on ninety thousand miles, the two seater has zero repairs,
(03:02):
one set of new breaks, two sets of new tires,
and a few oil changes. It's a marvel of Japanese
engineering and a pretty good thrill to drive. Also not
tremendously quick off the line, but with that six speed
short throw and that inline for it's plenty peppy and
extremely agile go kart steering. Rev Jay drives the shit
(03:26):
out of her. Sure he gets stopped by the law
from time to time, but always apologizes with great sincerity
and flashes his clerical creds while explaining to the officer
that he has an ill parishioner in need of the Lord.
Always this wee fib whisks him away in a hurry. Now,
(03:48):
the first time the Rev ran out of gas was
purely an accident. He thought he had plenty of fuel
to make it to the shell station out on two
O six, but nope. He came up a couple miles short,
sought help at the nearest house, and there found an
elderly couple coincidentally looking for God. And just like that,
(04:11):
Reverend Johnson had a gallon of petrol and two new parishioners.
After that, he let the MGBGT run out of gas
at the end of almost every tank full. Sometimes he'd
only put a gallon or two in the tank so
we could run out a couple of times a week.
(04:32):
Rev believed God wanted him to run out of gas,
wanted him to run out at very specific locations, because
at those locations were lost, lonely, desperate souls looking for
spiritual guidance, looking for Jesus, looking for God. So God
(04:53):
sent the Rev in his British racing green MGBGT, very
low on fuel, to find these lost and lonely souls
and save them. Reverend Johnson believed this. He really did,
He really believed it with all his heart and all
his souls. All those new parishioners caused his little church
(05:14):
on the hill to grow and grow like beans on
the stalk, and it kept growing even after. Reverend Johnson
discovered a more well, a more secular, which is to say,
a more earthly consequence of his MGBGT running out of gas.
This consequence caused the reverend for the very first time
(05:37):
in his life to doubt, to doubt the existence of God.
This doubt grew somewhat more urgent after Reverend Jay found
out his wife was having a wild sexual fling with
Freddy Lott, the assistant pastor, who was also the church
(05:58):
organist and director. Rev's wife was the lead soprano in
the choir, and every Thursday night she came home late
from choir practice, smelling of wine and cheese and sex.
When the reverend confronted her, she bellowed, Oh, don't even
(06:19):
think about getting all high and mighty on me, Harold Johnson.
Don't even think about it now. Reverend Johnson did not
care to find out what his wife meant by all this,
so he simply said, please, Martha, a bit of discretion.
Oh good God, replied Martha, you flaming hypocrite. My father
(06:41):
warned me about marrying a minister. Yes, it's true. And
Harold knew it. Oh, he knew it. It could not
be denied. He was living a lie, a big fat lie.
He knew it was a lie, but he couldn't help it,
couldn't help himself of the flesh and all that jazz.
(07:02):
Harold lived the lie in church. He lived it in
the bed he shared with Martha, lived it in the
rectory with their four children, ages seven to fourteen. Lived
it at the grocery store, in the coffee shop, and
at the hospital when he went to visit sick parishioners.
Soon after partaking of the forbidden bodily delights, Harold had
(07:27):
decided God was no more real than Santa Claus or
Lucifer or bugs Bunny. There simply was no reality, no truth,
no meaning to life, just whatever you by God decided.
But still, every Sunday in the pulpit, his voice strong
and righteous, he told his flock to put their arms
(07:50):
around Jesus, embrace Jesus and hold him close. He told
his flock the highest calling was faith, pure faith, and
never once, never once did he mention to his flock
that his own personal faith had gone whirling down the
commode with another spent condom. Be gentle, he advised, Be kind,
(08:19):
be truthful, and most of all, above all, be forgiving.
For forgiveness is the clearest path to God's heart. This chicanery,
despite a deep personal loathing for both his bride and
that feckless Freddy Lot, and maybe, yes, maybe also for himself.
(08:43):
It was then he knew he had to do something.
He was, after all, better than them, better than Martha
and Lot. Yes, something had to give, something had to change,
but not hopefully the good times when he ran out
of gas and miracle of miracles. Not long after this
(09:05):
low ebb, God, in all his glory, sent Reverend Harold
a message sent it loud and clear, Genesis, verse one,
chapter twenty eight. My son Harold quick looked it up.
God blessed them and said to them, be fruitful and multiply.
(09:25):
Be fruitful and multiply. Of course, of course, how Revjay
asked himself, Could I be so stupid, so shallow, so silly,
be fruitful and multiply? Of course, yes, of course absolutely.
And now that is how Harold got his faith back,
and why he tossed his condoms. It was all those
(09:48):
silly condoms that were the problem. And now the Mayata
once again out of gas, the Rev Collar in place,
hair and teeth brushed, breath minty fresh, steps out of
the low slung roadster. It's a lovely spring day, high
blue sky, trees leafing out flowers, a bloom. Whole world,
(10:13):
at least Harold's whole world. Feeling just chipper. Reverend Johnson
looks around the tidy neighborhood and just before noon. It
is on a Friday, Kids at school, dads at work.
Mayata out of gas. He crosses the street along the
brick walk, up the steps to the front porch, knocks
(10:35):
on the door. A moment later, the lady of the
house answers, middle age but not yet past child bearing,
still able to multiply, well preserved, very well preserved, but
clearly sexually deprived. He can see that in a rise,
(10:55):
it seems, he says, I've run out of gas. Oh my,
She said, yes, I think my husband has some in
the garage for the lawnmower. Well, that would be wonderful,
said the reverend. You're a pastor, I am. Well, just
give me a moment to put on my shoes and
we'll go out in the garage and have a look.
(11:17):
They take care of the gas. They have coffee on
the porch. He makes her laugh some old Jesus joke.
How does Jesus make tea? I don't know. He bruis it,
ha haha. At first she doesn't get it, but then
she does, and when she does, she laughs and touches
his knee, and not long after she confesses, your little
(11:42):
car is sort of like my marriage. Really, he asks,
how so it's well, let's run out of gas. I'm
so sorry to hear that, he says, I really am,
And then very gently he touches her knee, and soon
they're inside and upstairs and undressed and going at each
(12:02):
other like a bitch in heat and the lucky hound
who sniffed her out. As he pounds away on the
lonely housewife, Reverend Harold Johnson assures himself he is simply
doing God's work. He is doing as God instructed. He
is being fruitful and multiplying. Oh yes, he is once
(12:24):
again a believer, a great believer, maybe even the biggest
believer of them all. Thanks for listening to this original
audio presentation of Good God narrated by the author. If
(12:49):
you enjoy today's story, please take a few seconds to rate, review,
and subscribe to this podcast, and then go to Thomas
Williamsonisen dot com for additional information about the author and
to view his extensive canon. The Ten Minute Storyteller is
(13:09):
produced by Andrew Pleglici and Josh Colodney and as part
of the Elvis Duran Podcast Network in partnership with iHeart Productions.
Until next time, this is Bill Simpson, your ten Minute Storyteller.
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
This week we meet Reverend Johnson. Reverend Johnson likes to
(00:46):
run out of gas. In the old days, he liked
to run out for spiritual reasons, but these days his
reasons are more bodily in nature, but no matter or physical.
The Rev has found a way, as humans so aptly do,
to justify his carnal delights while pledging his faith in
(01:10):
God and in Jesus, Good God. The little ragtop sputters
and runs out of gas. Reverend Johnson smiles, no easy
chore getting the British racing green Mayata to run out
of gas. This sprightly but exceedingly frugal two point zero
(01:35):
in line four runs for miles on fumes and doesn't
demand high test. The cheapest off brand eighty seven octane
makes her run like a cheetah. In contrast, the Reverend's
previous roadster, an antique MGBGT, also in British or Racing Green,
(01:56):
demanded shell nitro super Premium ninety through octane or she
bitched like a Prima Donna rock and roll goddess, and
the second her gas gauge hit e, she sputtered and died.
Of course, the rev loved this feature because running out
of gas, after all, was the whole point of the exercise.
(02:18):
He especially loved that MGBGT because the Moody sports car
occasionally just conked out without rhyme or reason, bosh electrical
problems mostly, but pump even a gallon of crappy petrol
into her tank and the carburetor would clog like a
(02:39):
grease gunked drain and kill the GT dead in its tracks.
A very temperamental broad but still the Reverend loved those
unexpected breakdowns. The Mayata offers no such spontaneity. Closing in
on ninety thousand miles, the two seater has zero repairs,
(03:02):
one set of new breaks, two sets of new tires,
and a few oil changes. It's a marvel of Japanese
engineering and a pretty good thrill to drive. Also not
tremendously quick off the line, but with that six speed
short throw and that inline for it's plenty peppy and
extremely agile go kart steering. Rev Jay drives the shit
(03:26):
out of her. Sure he gets stopped by the law
from time to time, but always apologizes with great sincerity
and flashes his clerical creds while explaining to the officer
that he has an ill parishioner in need of the Lord.
Always this wee fib whisks him away in a hurry. Now,
(03:48):
the first time the Rev ran out of gas was
purely an accident. He thought he had plenty of fuel
to make it to the shell station out on two
O six, but nope. He came up a couple miles short,
sought help at the nearest house, and there found an
elderly couple coincidentally looking for God. And just like that,
(04:11):
Reverend Johnson had a gallon of petrol and two new parishioners.
After that, he let the MGBGT run out of gas
at the end of almost every tank full. Sometimes he'd
only put a gallon or two in the tank so
we could run out a couple of times a week.
(04:32):
Rev believed God wanted him to run out of gas,
wanted him to run out at very specific locations, because
at those locations were lost, lonely, desperate souls looking for
spiritual guidance, looking for Jesus, looking for God. So God
(04:53):
sent the Rev in his British racing green MGBGT, very
low on fuel, to find these lost and lonely souls
and save them. Reverend Johnson believed this. He really did,
He really believed it with all his heart and all
his souls. All those new parishioners caused his little church
(05:14):
on the hill to grow and grow like beans on
the stalk, and it kept growing even after. Reverend Johnson
discovered a more well, a more secular, which is to say,
a more earthly consequence of his MGBGT running out of gas.
This consequence caused the reverend for the very first time
(05:37):
in his life to doubt, to doubt the existence of God.
This doubt grew somewhat more urgent after Reverend Jay found
out his wife was having a wild sexual fling with
Freddy Lott, the assistant pastor, who was also the church
(05:58):
organist and director. Rev's wife was the lead soprano in
the choir, and every Thursday night she came home late
from choir practice, smelling of wine and cheese and sex.
When the reverend confronted her, she bellowed, Oh, don't even
(06:19):
think about getting all high and mighty on me, Harold Johnson.
Don't even think about it now. Reverend Johnson did not
care to find out what his wife meant by all this,
so he simply said, please, Martha, a bit of discretion.
Oh good God, replied Martha, you flaming hypocrite. My father
(06:41):
warned me about marrying a minister. Yes, it's true. And
Harold knew it. Oh, he knew it. It could not
be denied. He was living a lie, a big fat lie.
He knew it was a lie, but he couldn't help it,
couldn't help himself of the flesh and all that jazz.
(07:02):
Harold lived the lie in church. He lived it in
the bed he shared with Martha, lived it in the
rectory with their four children, ages seven to fourteen. Lived
it at the grocery store, in the coffee shop, and
at the hospital when he went to visit sick parishioners.
Soon after partaking of the forbidden bodily delights, Harold had
(07:27):
decided God was no more real than Santa Claus or
Lucifer or bugs Bunny. There simply was no reality, no truth,
no meaning to life, just whatever you by God decided.
But still, every Sunday in the pulpit, his voice strong
and righteous, he told his flock to put their arms
(07:50):
around Jesus, embrace Jesus and hold him close. He told
his flock the highest calling was faith, pure faith, and
never once, never once did he mention to his flock
that his own personal faith had gone whirling down the
commode with another spent condom. Be gentle, he advised, Be kind,
(08:19):
be truthful, and most of all, above all, be forgiving.
For forgiveness is the clearest path to God's heart. This chicanery,
despite a deep personal loathing for both his bride and
that feckless Freddy Lot, and maybe, yes, maybe also for himself.
(08:43):
It was then he knew he had to do something.
He was, after all, better than them, better than Martha
and Lot. Yes, something had to give, something had to change,
but not hopefully the good times when he ran out
of gas and miracle of miracles. Not long after this
(09:05):
low ebb, God, in all his glory, sent Reverend Harold
a message sent it loud and clear, Genesis, verse one,
chapter twenty eight. My son Harold quick looked it up.
God blessed them and said to them, be fruitful and multiply.
(09:25):
Be fruitful and multiply. Of course, of course, how Revjay
asked himself, Could I be so stupid, so shallow, so silly,
be fruitful and multiply? Of course, yes, of course absolutely.
And now that is how Harold got his faith back,
and why he tossed his condoms. It was all those
(09:48):
silly condoms that were the problem. And now the Mayata
once again out of gas, the Rev Collar in place,
hair and teeth brushed, breath minty fresh, steps out of
the low slung roadster. It's a lovely spring day, high
blue sky, trees leafing out flowers, a bloom. Whole world,
(10:13):
at least Harold's whole world. Feeling just chipper. Reverend Johnson
looks around the tidy neighborhood and just before noon. It
is on a Friday, Kids at school, dads at work.
Mayata out of gas. He crosses the street along the
brick walk, up the steps to the front porch, knocks
(10:35):
on the door. A moment later, the lady of the
house answers, middle age but not yet past child bearing,
still able to multiply, well preserved, very well preserved, but
clearly sexually deprived. He can see that in a rise,
(10:55):
it seems, he says, I've run out of gas. Oh my,
She said, yes, I think my husband has some in
the garage for the lawnmower. Well, that would be wonderful,
said the reverend. You're a pastor, I am. Well, just
give me a moment to put on my shoes and
we'll go out in the garage and have a look.
(11:17):
They take care of the gas. They have coffee on
the porch. He makes her laugh some old Jesus joke.
How does Jesus make tea? I don't know. He bruis it,
ha haha. At first she doesn't get it, but then
she does, and when she does, she laughs and touches
his knee, and not long after she confesses, your little
(11:42):
car is sort of like my marriage. Really, he asks,
how so it's well, let's run out of gas. I'm
so sorry to hear that, he says, I really am,
And then very gently he touches her knee, and soon
they're inside and upstairs and undressed and going at each
(12:02):
other like a bitch in heat and the lucky hound
who sniffed her out. As he pounds away on the
lonely housewife, Reverend Harold Johnson assures himself he is simply
doing God's work. He is doing as God instructed. He
is being fruitful and multiplying. Oh yes, he is once
(12:24):
again a believer, a great believer, maybe even the biggest
believer of them all. Thanks for listening to this original
audio presentation of Good God narrated by the author. If
(12:49):
you enjoy today's story, please take a few seconds to rate, review,
and subscribe to this podcast, and then go to Thomas
Williamsonisen dot com for additional information about the author and
to view his extensive canon. The Ten Minute Storyteller is
(13:09):
produced by Andrew Pleglici and Josh Colodney and as part
of the Elvis Duran Podcast Network in partnership with iHeart Productions.
Until next time, this is Bill Simpson, your ten Minute Storyteller.
Host
Bill Simpson
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