51. Samson – in Jeff’s own words

Yeah, man, I had noticed there were getting to be more bad people around, and the Department of Smiting and Salvation was swamped. That’s when Lucy and I came up with the best idea ever: Outsourcing!

Since my smiters couldn’t do all the work, we would get an outside contractor to handle some of the overflow for us. Of course, I knew he would need some extra help, so I gave him super strength. The only hitch was that he wasn’t allowed to cut his hair.

Don’t look at me like that! Superman has kryptonite, the Green Lantern has the colour yellow, Samson had male pattern baldness. It made perfect sense.

Sam had a pretty non-descript childhood. He didn’t even discover his power until he was of a marrying age. He was walking to the city to see his fiance, when he was attacked by a lion. As it tried to close its jaws on his throat, Sam grabbed it by the jaws and ripped it open.

Can you just imagine the look on his face? It was pretty funny. I decided it was time to go all Uncle Ben on his ass, and give him the “With great power comes great responsibility” talk. Blew his frigging mind.

Each morning, I would leave him a list of arseholes, and he’d go out and pound them. It worked pretty well for a while.

But then he started making his own decisions about who to smite. That’s when it started getting tricky. It got even trickier once he started drinking heavily.

It started small. I would find out about extra sinners getting their arses kicked. I thought, “Hey, let’s give the kid credit for showing initiative.” He was going above and beyond his assigned tasks, and that was okay.

Then the barroom brawls started. I would wake up in the morning and read about entire bars full of ordinary people – not even the really BAD sinners – getting shit-beaten.

It was when he started raiding and destroying churches for their wine that I finally thought things were going too far. I know I’m not really into the clergy nowadays, but back then I still had a little faith. Who wants to see bad shit happen to their biggest fans, right?

I tried to send in my best smiters to take care of it. Turned out I had been a little too enthusiastic in giving Sam his super strength. He handed them their arses. As you can imagine, that was a little embarrassing for all concerned parties

So that’s when I sent in Delilah. Sam had proven in the past that he could be totally whipped by a pretty face. I was betting on the fact that it could happen again.

Now she knew her mission, but I guess she wasn’t paying attention when I told her what his weakness was. She went about trying to figure it out. Mental note: Always make sure your agent is listening to their FULL ASSIGNMENT.

So here’s where your Elvis bible has part of the story right. How did she try to discover Sam’s weakness? She frigging asked him! I know.

Sam said his weakness was to be tied up with bow strings; he woke up in the morning, tied up with bow strings. Of course, he broke those easily.

So Del pulled the old “You don’t trust me” routine and asked him again. To his credit, Sam wasn’t buying any of that shit: He told her it was to be tied down with ordinary ropes. Pfft, like I would EVER use THAT as his weakness. Fucking idiotic!

Once again, he woke up in the morning, tied down with ropes, and – once again – he broke free.

Del played it cool this time. She knew she had just proven herself untrustworthy twice. She used his OTHER weakness. In a moment of … um … we’ll call it “enjoyment”, she asked him again. And Sam sang like a canary. Then she got him drunk.

He woke up the next morning just as bald as the day he was born. But here’s the brilliant part: Del told him he looked hot with no hair.

Never mind that bullshit story about Philistines poking his eyes out and making him their slave. Once Sam thought this was what women liked, he willingly shaved everything – and dude I mean EVERYTHING – every day. He voluntarily spent the rest of his days as a hairless weakling. Started playing the lute, wearing a beret, writing poetry. He was way cooler than he had been, but was useless as a smiting contractor.