Put it down, ma guy.
Just let the guy do his job and hit home the reality that nobody messes with God.
A hand goes up, asking for silence.
Doing the SMH, I look him in the eye and respond.
“Rubbish, dude. Rubbish.
I do not serve a God who tells me to kill all those who disagree with me.
I know all those things that you mentioned, I know what he stands for,
And it’s not a sufficient enough reason to give a co-sign to this evil deed.
I have not been taught to desire the worst upon others, that’s not the spirit I’m made of.
It doesn’t matter how opposed he is to the knowledge of God, he’s still an image-bearer and my neighbour, and I will love him as such,
That heart still beats in his chest because of the God who made him,
And no human being has the right to stop it, only He who numbers our days has that say.
He does not deserve a bullet in the back and a premature journey to the other side,
So get behind me, you liar! This man needs a Good Samaritan right now!”
He disappears.
I stand still, in shock.
Suddenly, the mannequin is over.
The disappearance of the eerie stillness jolts me back to reality.
The guy’s squatted, target directly at the couple.
5 seconds becoming 4.
No time to waste!
I draw my arm back.
Throw that ball with every little ounce of strength in me.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
Thank God, that throw was on a 100.
A sigh of relief comes as the ball strikes his gun-toting fingers and has him screaming out loud, as the deadly weapon slips from his grasp and drops to the ground.