By Gregg Howard
My brother, the atheist, barely home from college, charges up the stairs, only slowing to grab his old air rifle before slipping out the window and onto the porch roof.
Two guys in white shirts and ties are walking together, but Eric isn’t watching them. As they cross the street, he suddenly snaps off a flurry of shots, followed by yelps as the Johnson boys crash out of the hedge next door, dropping eggs and howling as they run.
“What the heck, Eric? You said you despised religion!”
“Not as much as I despise those two redheaded dillweeds,” he answers grimly.
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