I want to tell you a story about a man who wanted nothing more than to be the fastest person in the world. Wouldn't you know it, when this man was a child, god himself came down and offered to become his personal trainer. And, as you'd expect from somebody who killed his own son, god was a merciless taskmaster. The work was grueling and went on for years. Through rain, snow, sleet, even a hurricane one time, god had his protégé running, molding him into just what he always wanted to be: the fastest person in the world.
Time passed and the child grew into a man with no friends, no education, no interests and no connection with even his family because god had him running so long and so hard that the man had no time for any of these things.
And then, the big day was upon him. It was the moment of glory. The entire world would be watching on their television sets to watch the race that would determine who the fastest person in the world really was.
He took his place at the starting line when he saw god, his own personal trainer approaching. The man, thinking that he was about to receive some sort of mini pep-talk or some words of encouragement turned to hear what his lord and trainer had to say. That's when god pulled out a .45 Magnum and blew the man's kneecaps right off. Then god unzipped himself, pissed on the man's face and walked away.