Between Barak and a Tent Stake
You got any friends that are just perpetual screw-ups? The kind of person that just can’t get it right, no matter how many times they try? That was the Israelites. Somewhere between Wiley Coyote, Lindsay Lohan, and Michael Vick. The Israelites were perfecting the concept of being their own worst enemy far before that awesome Lit song inspired Charlie Sheen to try to dig a hole in his life to China with hookers and nose candy.
The Old Testament pretty much reads like this: God loves Israel. Israel loves God. Israel turns back on God, goes off the deep end, and becomes the inspiration for the show Skins. God gets mad and punishes Israel. Israel repents. God blesses Israel. Repeat until Jesus is born.
After Ehud the assassin shanked Jaba the Hutt like a champ, all was well in Israel for like, a year. Then Ehud died and it was like all of Israel figured that God had relaxed the rules on whoring and debauchery and what not, so they went back to worshipping foreigners and sleeping with idols. I mean, worshipping idols and sleeping with foreigners. Actually, nevermind. Probably both.
Because they had started approaching God’s laws like it was opposite day, God decided to give them over to Jabin, the king of Canaan. This dude was one bad mother trucker. He had a wicked army with 900 iron chariots that was commanded by an equally bad dude named Sisera.
“Sisera? That sounds like a girl’s name.”
You’re right bro, it does. That’s probably why he was such a douchebag to everyone, kind of like that Johnny Cash song “A Boy Named Sue.” His parents gave him a name that was one step away from Sissy and he decided to make the world pay for it. The Israelites had been bearing the brunt of his “I’m mad at my dad” Marilyn Manson anger for 20 years when they decided it was time to ask God for help.
(Note: 20 years? Seriously Israelites, 20 years!? They must have been seriously dense, or seriously slam hammered to have to take that long to figure it out.)
God put Deborah (a girl!) in power over the Israelites. She was pretty much the Oprah of her day. She had a direct line to God, helped all the people figure out their problems, had a place where everyone would line up to see her, and I’m guessing she probably gave away a bunch of sweet stuff. Donkey blankets, dreidels, nice clay pots – I don’t know what kind of schwag Israelites would have wanted, but I guarantee that Deborah didn’t mess around with gift cards or anything lame like that.
Now I’m not some kind of charismaniac weirdo or anything, but this has got to be some kind of prophecy: Deborah had a great friend whose name was (get this!) Barak! Seriously, I’m not kidding. It’s in the Bible. She told her friend Barak to take the Israelites and lead them into battle against Sissy boy and his army of Stone Cold Steve Austin clones on their Harley Davidson chariots, pretty much like Oprah told Obama to run for president. This Barak said “okay, but only if you come with me.” Pretty sure that’s just like how Oprah is now secretly running the country by texting orders to Obama every day.
So Deborah, in true emasculatory Oprah fashion, tells Barak that she’ll go with him, but the honor of killing Sisera will go to a chick. Ouch, Barak. Ouch.
Barak takes his army and rolls out to Mount Tabor for the fight. Deborah comes with him, probably in some kind of veiled carriage thing that had ancient Jewish air conditioning and camel-leather seats. I mean, I can’t confirm that Deborah liked fancy things, but I think it’s safe to assume that she rolled like a boss.
Sisera hears on Facebook or something that Barak has his hairy Jewish army hanging out on Mount Tabor and gets pissed. He tells all the Steve Austin clones to fire up their Harleys and head out for what he probably thought was going to be like punching a child. Little did he know, the Israelites had gotten right with God again and the Big Guy was now doing all their heavy lifting.
Barak and his army literally killed everyone except Sisera, the leader. He got away and fled on foot, eventually stumbling into the tent of this femme fatale named Jael. The Bible doesn’t say whether or not Jael was a babe, but let’s be Hollywood for a sec and assume that she was. After all, what kind of story would this be if the heroine at the end was some frumpy mustachio? Know what I’m saying?
Sisera opens up the tent and is all like “Oh dude, I’m gonna die” or whatever, and Jael, not even skipping a beat, says “come right in, don’t be afraid.” A freaking black widow, this chick. So Sisera goes into the tent and he’s all like “Hey tutz, I’m thirsty from all of the running away and screaming that I just did. You got any Vitamin Water?” She didn’t, but she had some Muscle Milk and he settled for that. Then he was like “Thanks sugar, I’m gonna take a quick nap before I clean out my thoroughly pooped pants. Would you mind watching the door and telling anyone who comes by that there isn’t anyone named Sisera here?”
“No problem, I’ll definitely do exactly that” she said.
Sisera crashed out in a big way under a blanket and immediately started dreaming about Ed Hardy shirts and other forms of douche baggery. While he slept, Jael got a tent stake and snuck up on him. She put the tent peg on his temple and hammered it through his head until it went into the ground. She literally nailed this dude’s head to the ground.
I mean, warrior fighter chicks are pretty hot and everything, but that’s a little too rich for my blood, know what I’m saying? She obviously knew that God wanted her to kill this guy, but you gotta wonder what God’s reaction was when she went with the “nail the brains to the floor” method.
“Whoa, whoa Jael. I mean, everybody knows I’m all about going big or going home, but wow, I just… I gotta be honest, that was a little much.”
After that, Jael went on to start the first roller derby league, a sport that hasn’t changed for thousands of years.