1 Kings 16: Drunks Rule the Hebrews

God: Hey, Jehu, son of Hanani!

Jehu: Oh, God! Good to hear from you! Man, have I got some questions for you! Can you tell me how to cure the plague, child cancer and world hunger, while I got you here?

God: What? No! Of course not! Listen, tell Baasha he and his people are dog and buzzard meat, like Jeroboam. Because of his sinning.

Jehu: Okay. But I wish you'd just tell him your own damn self. Won't even tell me the cure for childhood cancer. Jerk.

LATER

Baasha: Arrrrrrggh!

Elah: Dad's dead. Now, I'm king, Yay!

SOON, IN THE HOUSE OF ARZA

Zimri, captain of half his chariots: I'm gonna kill tha' bashtad, Elahhhh. Jush you wait.

Bartender: That's enough for you, big guy.

Zimr: I will! You don' thing I will, bu' you jush wash me. Here I go....

Bartender: Mean drunks. Happens every time.

LATER

Elah: Oh, hey, Zimri.

Zimri: Hey, thish you, bashtard. Yer two year reign is ova'!

Elah: Arrrrgh.

Zimri: Wohoo! Now, I'm th' king! Let me shit down on thish comfy throne. And, for my firsht act, slay the house of Baasha!

Servant: Uh, shouldn't we do something? He just killed the king. And we're just going to let him take the throne? Drunk?

Scribe: Just go with it.

Army Guy: Well, I'm off to kill all the people the drunk guy told me to kill. I'll be back later.

MEANWHILE

Messenger: So, seven days ago this drunk guy, Zimri, killed Baasha and took over. then he started ordering a bunch of people killed.

Omri: And everyone just let it happen? What a bunch of morons.

People of Israel: Yes, let's make you king over all Israel, instead.

Omri: Good plan. Let's go to Tirzah and get that drunk idiot.

LATER

Omri: Wow. This was easier than I thought.

Servant: Sir, we've trapped Zimri in his house.

Omri: Burn it down. Burn it all down.

People of Israel: Well, that was fun. Now, let's divide into two parts. Everyone who wants to follow Omri to the left. Everyone who wants to follow Tibni, the son of Ginath, to the right.

Tibni: Yay! I'm king!

Omri: Now, everyone on the left, take out your swords and kill everyone on the right.

Tibni: Uh, pu pu, pu, people on the, uh, right....

Omri: Have at you!

Tibni: Wow, that sucked.

Omri: Now, I'm the king again!

Messenger: And of a more manageable population size, too.

Omri: It's a win/win! I think I'll buy the hill Samaria of Shemer for two talents of silver, and build a city on it. I'll call it Shemer, after the owner of the hill, Samaria.

Messenger: So, have you decided you're management style?

Omri: Yes, pure evil, I think.

Messenger: Won't that provoke the Lord to anger?

Omri: You think?

Scribe: I'll be sure to write that down in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel. Should make for interesting reading.

MANY YEARS LATER

Messenger: Well, Omri's dead and buried in Samaria. Who's next?

Ahab: Me! I'm his son, I get to be king now!

Scribe: And what will be your management style?

Ahab: Evil! Just like dad!

Scribe: I'm sure he'll be pleased.

Ahab: First thing I want to do is marry Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal king of the Zidonians, and serve Baal. Make an alter, build a grove for him. You know, just do things that generally piss off the Lord.

Messenger: Ahab, Hiel the Bethelite is building Jericho. He's laid the foundation in Abiram his firstborn, and set up the gates thereof in his youngest son Segub, according to the word of the Lord, which he spake by Joshua the son of Nun.

Ahab: Uh, okay.

TWENTY-TWO YEARS LATER

Messenger: Ahab's dead.