Eleven days after I appeared on Larry King Live, I locked myself in the walk-in bedroom closet in my condo. I confronted my most haunting angels in black—my dark-side demons within. As much as I wanted anything in my life, I wanted to win my final battle. I knew that it wouldn’t be easy.

Before I entered the closet, I hung three signs on the closet door, which read “Private Closet / Keep Out,” “Den of Iniquity,” and “Personal Torture Chamber.” Then I walked in and sat on a little stool in the pitch-black room, and I contemplated how I intended to clean up the rest of my act.

I dressed in a black T-shirt, which I had put on over my full suit of armor. The printed T-shirt showed an outline of a skull and crossbones and read “Bad to the Bone.” I turned on a flashlight, popped the cap on an ice-cold bottle of Zapmeister, and lit up a Tomarlbury.

Then I shined the flashlight around the spacious closet. Here are some of the things that I saw: My lance, ax, and war club were leaned up against the rear wall. A small square table was placed just off to my right. An ashtray on the table was overfilled with Tomarlbury butts. A crushed, empty can of Zapmeister sat next to the filthy ashtray. A couple of empty wine bottles, along with dozens of cigarette and cigar butts, were scattered across the floor.

To my left, a shelf on the wall contained several dusty books. Some of the books’ titles read “Bonnie & Clyde, The Godfather, and History of the World Wrestling Federation.” Four other books were stacked in the corner. These titles read “A Winner’s Guide to Casino Gambling, Beat the Dealer, How to Hit the Jackpot at Slots, and Winning Lotto Strategies.”

Finally, a big cedar chest in another corner of the closet was filled with items such as: a black ball and chain, a horse whip, a .22-caliber revolver, a miniature replica of a Tomahawk Cruise Missile, and a bottle of tranquilizers.

“I realize that nobody under my Lord is perfect,” I said to myself, “but I’m tired of holding myself hostage in my shadow of personal guilt!”

After a brief pause to swallow a couple of gulps of beer and to take another drag on my Tomarlbury, I continued, “I hate myself for smoking and drinking too damn much! I’m hooked and depressed by these bad habits because I still haven’t come to terms with my foremost enemy within—my aggressive and sometimes hostile nature!”

I took another swig of Zapmeister and concluded, “I still don’t feel good about myself. I think that my self-contempt and shame about my seemingly uncontrollable aggressive behavior are causing me to dishonor myself and hold myself in disgrace. I’m constantly focused on and continue to display negative thoughts, bad personal habits, and harmful emotions. Lord, how can I shed light on my shadiest side and conquer my darkest angels in black?”

The Lord appeared and stood right in front of me in the closet. Immediately, She began coughing and choking. She said, “Good God, Wantsalittle, you’re going to suffocate from this thick gray cloud of smoke in the room. Why don’t you put out that Tomarlbury and open the door?”

I reached for the ashtray and rubbed out the rest of my cigarette. Then I said, “Sorry about that, Lord! But I’m so depressed at the moment—well, I just don’t care that much, right now, whether or not that I live or die!”

God opened the closet door and waited for several seconds for most of the smoke to clear. Then She said, “Wantsalittle, don’t give up now! You’re almost ‘home-free’! As it says in the Bible, ‘The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light’ (Romans 13:12).”

The Lord coughed again and continued, “Indeed, it’s time for you to come out of the closet and come face to face with your darkest thoughts. All human beings, even great statesmen and presidents, carry with them some form of their shadows. Do not fear what is still left of your dark side, and fear not that others will discover your present or future angels in black.”

“But, Lord, how can I defeat these ugly demons? I constantly think about my bad habits and my aggressive ways, but I just can’t seem to divorce myself from these personal problems! What can I do?”

“Wantsalittle, your aggressive tendencies are at the root of the problem, as I think that you already know. When people don’t see any hope for their foremost personal problem or problems, they generally say and/or do things that they wouldn’t normally say and/or do. You hit it square on the nose with your previous comment about ‘not feeling good about yourself.’ When people don’t feel good inside, oftentimes they will take out their bad feelings on others. This is the major reason why humanity suffers through acts of socially unacceptable or criminal behavior! This is also the principal reason why there are such intolerable, abhorrent, human actions such as: temper tantrums, spouse abuse, child neglect and/or abuse, cruelty to animals, theft, assault, rape, murder, war, road rage, and so forth. And people not feeling good about themselves can cause them to engage in such harmful personal habits like: smoking, illegal-drug usage, and alcohol consumption.”

God stopped to think for a moment. Then She continued, “You cannot live with faith in yourself and have self-confidence if your mind and body are being held captive by your innermost negative thoughts and emotions. Everything within you is forgivable through your God’s infinite love. Acknowledge your God’s presence and your God’s divine goodness. Shed your God’s light, through your prayers, on all of your true feelings. Love your God, love yourself, and love all others, unconditionally. When you do, all worthwhile things will become possible!”

“Lord, I feel so close, but yet so very far away from realizing my dream. Lately, I’ve felt, at times, that I could simply reach out and grasp that great, kinglike feeling! Then, at other times, I—”

God interrupted, “The wise Guatama Buddha said, ‘When you shall have fulfilled this great promise and after endless epochs shall have finished this work of salvation, then will you truly have shown yourself . . . in the most widely different worlds . . . to be the possessor of the tenderest heart and the highest wisdom.’”

“Oh, Lord! I’m seeing a whole lot of ‘light,’ right now!”

“Wantsalittle, what about your sexist attitude? The remarks that you’ve made to Me, at times, and some of the offensive comments that you’ve thought or said about Raquel Welch, Roseanne Barr, Dolly Parton, Pamela Anderson, and Teri Hatcher won’t win you any popularity contests, at least with these or other women.”

“Lord, my sometimes sexist attitude has all but vanished. Now that I have respect for myself, I have respect for everyone else!”

The Lord smiled and exclaimed, “Wantsalittle, I just wanted to hear you say that!”

“God, what other good, last-minute advice can You give me?”

“As you think and act by facing your problems and by shedding light on your shadow, you will discover the answers to your problems and possess the power to defeat your darkest angels in black. . . . Yes, Wantsalittle—you’re seeing about as much ‘light’ as any mortal human being can expect of himself or herself to see.”

I realized that I wouldn’t likely see the Lord again, in person. Jessica . . . e-r-r, God and I stood there, face to face, momentarily looking into each other’s eyes. Sad expressions loomed across both our faces. I took off my helmet, removed my “Bad to the Bone” T-shirt, and took off the upper plates of my restricting suit of armor. The Lord and I were reading each other’s minds; we both had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen next.

At that point, God and I reached out to hug each other. She had dressed in a bright-red, tight-fitting, tank top and a snow-white, knee-high skirt. I had just slipped on a white T-shirt with “I Love Jessica Simpson” printed in bold red letters across the front of it. On the back side of the shirt, there was a colorful, full-length, bikini-clad image of the steamy, shapely actress.

Fortunately, I had the foresight to shed my upper armor. As we warmly and snugly hugged, I joyfully and absorbingly felt the heavy impressions of God’s full, firm breasts against my chest. The vivid, pressing contact instantly excited me. My now seductive thoughts and rising body temperature triggered my wildest imagination. I wondered if She would boldly offer me more!

As I stepped back, after our tight, nearly heart-stopping embrace, I leaned forward and lightly kissed God on Her soft, tear-dampened, right cheek. Then, with a romantic look in Her wide, gleaming, brown eyes, God said, “Wantsalittle, this could be your big opportunity. Can you do a little better than that?”

Suddenly, God moved to embrace me again; the hug that followed was even tighter than before. As we held each other in mutually wanting arms and hands, I answered Her question—my eager lips quivered, anxiously, as they met Hers, directly. A minute or so of sometimes deep, repetitive, mouth-to-mouth association ensued. After our final bear-like hug and our juicy, delightful, loving kisses, I exclaimed, “God, I’ve just tasted a little bit of Heaven!”

The Lord replied, with a look of satisfaction, “Wantsalittle, you’re quite a guy . . . and a darn good kisser, too! Jessica Simpson doesn’t know what she’s missing! As you are beginning to see, I’ve grown very fond of you during the course of your quest. Wantsalittle, would you really like to feel and act like a King?”

I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears. It appeared to me that God, posing as Jessica Simpson, had been swept off Her feet and, nearly, out of Her shiny red high-heels and mind over me! I quickly responded, “Sure! But, Jessica, you’re a couple of years or so older than I am. Do you have a ‘thing’ for younger men?”

“Wantsalittle, try to remember that My name is God! And, in truth, I’m trillions of years older than you! But what does age have to do with it?”

“Well, I guess that You’re right. Besides, who am I to question the Lord. And, God, I’ve grown very fond of You, too! What exactly do You have in mind?”

“As I’ve been visiting Earth in human form since you started your journey, I’ve been staying in a penthouse suite at the Hilton Hotel, here in Hollywood, just a few blocks from your condo. Sir Wantsalittle Morefromlife, if you want, we could jump into Willie’s Corvette and drive over to the Hilton. . . . I can’t believe what I’m about to propose. It must be the Jessica Simpson—the humanized being—in Me. Whatever it is, Wantsalittle, you are welcome to spend one almost unimaginable evening—a night with Me in My luxurious hotel suite—all the amenities supplied, including your choice of My evening gown and lingerie. And you can select your favorite fashions, designs, and colors—anything that you would like to see Me wear, from My packed-to-the-rafters, master-bedroom wardrobe!”

My now wide-open, bright-blue, seductive eyes all but popped out of their sockets! I wasn’t sure whether or not that Jessica—I mean God—was serious. She was! . . .

As it turned out, God selected the tunes . . . lots of foreplay, then . . . yada, yada, yada . . . while listening to the soft music, under the light of the full moon, as it shined brightly through the skylight; our picturesque bodies silhouetted beneath the top, sheer, satin sheet; then . . . more yada, yada, yada.

All of the words in anybody’s dictionary wouldn’t do justice in describing that heated, sweat-dripping, mind-blowing, amorous adventure. Of course, everybody in the world should have already known that God wasn’t a virgin!

I can sum up my recollection of the lustful and passionate, but mostly confidential details that transpired on that ultra-special evening—an evening that enthusiastically and steadfastly kept up into the early morning hours—in two little words: euphoric bliss!

For those less fortunate humans, who don’t completely comprehend the meaning of “euphoric bliss,” here are eleven alternative words that also accurately describe my memories of that once-in-a-lifetime, more-than-spiritual happening: The exhilarating experience left me in a state of pure ecstasy! For anyone who still doesn’t see the “Big Picture,” here are eight final words that closely depict my remembrance of the wild, exhausting affair: I felt like I was in seventh heaven!

And speaking of Heaven, immediately afterward—right after I saw “fireworks exploding” and “rocket ships blasting off” and “bright stars”—I asked, “God, what is Heaven coming to?” The Lord just winked at me and smiled.

Then it dawned on me that God was simply thanking me, sincerely, for my finally “seeing the light” and for my becoming a better man. I believed that God was just trying Her best to build my self-confidence and leave me on a “high” note. I took a deep breath and inhaled a big gulp of reality. I realized, right then and there, that I was truly in love with only one woman in the universe—Marilotta Light! I said, “Lord, things usually have a way of working out for the best. Besides, I’m not sure how Marilotta would react to the idea that she might be competing with or possibly playing a second fiddle to You—God!”

The Lord said, “Marilotta Light is a fine young woman. If you and Marilotta should eventually decide to get married, she will be a great wife and mother for your children. Wantsalittle, I sincerely wish the best of luck and happiness to both you and Marilotta Light!”

I knew that my time with the Lord, at least in this life, was running short. I started to get misty around the eyes. I wanted to thank God with all of my heart. I wiped off the tears, which had started to run down my cheeks, and said, “Lord, I just want to thank—”

“You already have! Just pass on what you’ve learned so that you might help others to become the very best that they can be! Now that you’ve become so enlightened, I won’t have to make any more ‘physical’ appearances. But I’ll still be there for you, particularly when you pray and ask for My guidance in any way. Wantsalittle, before I leave, I would like for you to wake up each and every morning and think about what positive thoughts and images you will form in your mind for that day. Please strive to continue in your personal growth. . . . So long, Sir Wantsalittle Morefromlife! It has been a real pleasure to have conversed with you on these numerous occasions . . . and otherwise eventful, shared circumstances! Yes, indeed, Sir Wantsalittle! You are a real trip! We’ll see each other again one day. So long!”

“Good-bye, my Lord!” I said, standing face to face with God for the last time in Her hotel room, tears streaming from my eyes. Then God simply vanished.

My long, adventurous, and prosperous journey was rapidly coming to a self-satisfying, happy conclusion. I drove the Vette back to my condo. When I went inside, I grabbed a tall garbage basket, from out of the kitchen, and headed to the hallway closet. I emptied everything that was in the spacious closet, except for my clothes, into the trash container—dozens of empty and some full cans and bottles of Zapmeister, a few opened and a few unopened wine bottles, a bottle of tranquilizers, a new carton of cigarettes, my lance, my ax, my war club, my .22-caliber revolver, and my miniature Blackhawk Cruise Missile.

Quitting my smoking and my drinking and eliminating my aggressive behavior was easy. For the first time in my life, I felt really good about myself! No poison was left in my system. I wanted to live the rest of my life to the fullest, free from my former bad habits, negative thoughts, and harmful emotions.

The next day, I traveled back to my favorite lake, near Camelot. There, I stood on the shore and looked out at the Lady of the Lake. As I mentioned earlier, she was a spitting image of Helen Hunt, the highly popular Hollywood actress. After I made eye contact with the stingy keeper of the lake, I rowed the canoe out to where she had so often tempted me and teased me. And, once again, the Lady of the Lake dared me to draw the majestic, magical sword. This time, though, with ease, I drew Excalibur from her now yielding hand.

Then I climbed the hill and leaned up against the trunk of the big red oak tree. I wasn’t alone. Two squirrels, which were sitting right next to my shiny steel boots, cracked open a couple of acorns. Directly overhead, a bald eagle flew across the mostly clear-blue sky. And an owl and a white dove were perched on a long limb above me.

I stepped out from under the oak tree. Suddenly, a little fluffy white cloud blocked the late-afternoon sun. But light rays penetrated the cloud, fully illuminating my lustrous, bright suit of armor. With a quick, hard flick of my right wrist, I tossed Excalibur in the direction of the lake. Like a large boomerang, the mystical sword spun high into the air and back into the waiting hand of the Lady of the Lake.

“I didn’t realize how shallow was my heart and soul until it was filled,” I said, sporting a broad smile on my face. “No longer do I need the mighty sword . . . for now I TRULY FEEL AND ACT LIKE A KING!”

Then the Lady of the Lake spoke loud enough for me to hear, “Sir Wantsalittle Morefromlife, you have earned the right to be the new King of England and of the Land of Camelot!”

I strolled back down the hill to speak with the Lady of the Lake. “Respectfully, I must decline your most generous offer,” I replied. “Or maybe you’ll give me a ‘rain check’? As you might know, I’ve been time traveling. One of the places that I’ve visited is known as Hollywood, California. It’s located in the United States of America—several thousand miles from here and approximately 1,400 years into the future.”

“I know!” the Lady of the Lake said. “The Lord came to visit just before you got here. She told me all about you. You met a young girl by the name of Marilotta Light. You would like to make this fine lady your wife or your Queen, whichever she would prefer.”

“Yes! But Marilotta isn’t aware of that just yet. As soon as I leave here, though, I have a hunch that I’m going to be spending a lot of time with her. I don’t know why I feel that way, but I do! . . . By the way, has anybody ever mentioned, considering your long, straight, blonde hair and your hazel eyes and your facial features, that you look a lot like the famous American actress, Helen Hunt?”

“No, but in terms of chronological order of historical occurrences, it is Lady Helen who looks like me! . . . Wantsalittle, I am looking into your immediate future, right now! I can see that your assessment of the situation with respect to Marilotta is correct! I fully appreciate your unique position. I will grant you a rain check. But don’t take too long in making your decision. England really needs a noble, virtuous king. Whatever happens, I’m sure it will work out for the best—both for you and for your lovely lady and for the people of England. . . . And, Sir Wantsalittle Morefromlife, if you do elect to become King, we could change your name to King Hasalot Morefromlife! And, if Marilotta Light becomes your Queen, maybe you’d prefer to use the last part of your birth name. We could call you King Hasalot Morenooky!”

I laughed. Then, the Lady of the Lake added, “If none of the above occurs, perhaps you and God will get together again, someday, in Heaven. Then, all of those people ‘above’ could call you Sir Getsalittle Morefromgod! In the meantime, while you remain on Earth, you might want to keep tabs on the real Jessica Simpson. If she should become unattached and available, maybe you and Jessica might develop a close, tender, romantic relationship—allowing you a ‘replay,’ of sorts—you know, more ‘horizontal’ practice before you might eventually reconnect with God inside ‘the Pearly Gates.’ Of course, there could be one hell-of-a love-triangle problem, down the road, provided that both you and Jessica are both fortunate enough, after death, to receive God’s special invitation to join Her at the ‘big dance in the sky’!”

I laughed even harder. Then I asked, “But what if God turns out to be a man?”

The Lady of the Lake giggled, then she responded, “In that event, you and the real Jessica Simpson might live happily ever-after in the Kingdom of Heaven!”

I just chuckled and said, “Thank you, my fair Lady of the Lake, for your divine understanding and for both your serious and your more comical suggestions!”

The Corvette was parked, almost directly behind me, about a hundred yards from the lake. When I turned around to head for the Vette, Marilotta Light energized right in front of me!

Willie had told me that he had another time-travel remote, for emergency use, in the event that he needed to get in touch with me for some reason. Immediately, I thought that Marilotta must have borrowed her father’s portable time machine. Then she probably hit the red Emergency button, which would have transported her through time, to my exact location. Still, I was very surprised to see Marilotta. I asked, “Marilotta, what brings you to Camelot?”

“Wantsalittle, I just wanted to see you again. I hope that I’m not intruding on your privacy.”

“No, not at all! I’m very happy to see you, too! How did you know that I was here?”

“I really didn’t know, for sure, exactly where you were, your current location or time. But right before your appearance on Larry King Live, dad told me that you were having personal conversations with God and that you would be ending your journey in Camelot. Dad also said something about your wanting to try to draw Excalibur from the hand of the Lady of the Lake. All of these exciting circumstances and adventurous events aroused my curiosity. And I thought that I might get the chance to see or to meet God, personally.”

Marilotta paused for a moment, then continued, “It was just a common-sense conclusion that you’d likely be speaking with the Lord sometime during the last few hours of your quest. As I look out over the water, I can see the Lady of the Lake. She is holding Excalibur high over her head. Wantsalittle, I must’ve pressed the Emergency button on dad’s spare time-travel-remote device, intuitively. It appears that I’ve arrived at just about the perfect time. Are you still going to try your hand on the treasured weapon?”

I laughed and replied, “Marilotta, my dear, actually, you’re just a little late in getting here. I’ve already dealt with the Excalibur issue. The magnificent sword was mine for the taking. I determined, though, that I no longer needed the coveted instrument, and I tossed the splendid sword back into the hand of the Lady of the Lake.”

Marilotta inquired, “What about God? Did I also miss your meeting with the Lord?”

“I’m afraid so, my dear. But God made Her . . . e-r-r, I mean His appearances before me, invisibly—nobody could see or hear Her . . . e-r-r, I mean Him.”

“Yeah, I guess that I should’ve known that that would be the case. Darn, it looks as though I missed all of the excitement for the day. But I’m still glad that I’m here. Really, I just couldn’t wait to see you again! Wantsalittle, tell me, what did God look like?”

While I was at Willie’s, for the first time, for twenty days, preparing for my journey into time, Marilotta Light and I had established the foundation for a meaningful long-term relationship. Nevertheless, neither of us, at that early stage, had made any serious commitment to each other. Still, Marilotta’s sudden and unexpected appearance in the Land of Camelot took me by surprise, and I felt a little awkward in her presence.

If Marilotta and I were to have any chance at a mutually rewarding, everlasting, loving relationship, I knew that such a relationship would have to be based, above all else, on mutual trust, mutual respect, and mutual honesty. So, I knew that I had to come clean with Marilotta about my romantic fling with God.

Although my God and I had come to truly love each other, and part of that love manifested into an unforgettable, one-night, romantic affair, it wasn’t like the Lord and I were going to get married or anything. I only hoped that, after I confessed to Marilotta about my unusual intimate relationship with God, she would forgive me for sort of cheating on her. I really believed, considering the circumstances, that she would forgive me. After all, how many guys get the heavenly opportunity to “do it” with the Lord, albeit in the appearance of Jessica Simpson?

“Marilotta, you look terrific, all decked out in that alluring . . . what would you call it? Is that some kind of a fancy one-piece swimsuit?” I asked.

Marilotta laughed, momentarily, and said, “No—no! This is just a new pullover dress. The dress looks a little like a swimsuit because it’s sleeveless and it’s very low cut on both the front and the back. Wantsalittle, do you think it gives me a sexier appearance?”

“Yeah! I love the dress, even the teal color. That shade of green really accentuates your slightly curled dark-brown hair. But those pencil-thin shoulder straps and the ultra-short-length design are what gave me the impression that the dress was some sort of a swimsuit. Don’t you feel a bit uncomfortable walking around, especially here in Camelot, with so much of your thighs exposed?”

“Well, I must admit that I didn’t give that much forethought. Will we be seeing any of your friends?”

“No, not on this occasion. And it’s probably for the best. If the God-fearing citizens of Camelot saw you in that seductive and charming get-up, they would either think that you were an angel, without wings, or that they had just died and went to Heaven!”

“Wantsalittle, I’m very pleased that you like my dress. I wore it especially for you!”

Figuring out what was on Marilotta’s mind was easy. I said to myself, “Damn the bad timing! Just my luck!” She was in the mood for lust or love! Either way, my hopes weren’t set too high! Now, more than before, it was apparent that I was facing a big hill to climb—namely that of trying to explain my “one night stand” with God!

Marilotta knew that God had helped me, regularly, throughout my travels. But she had absolutely no idea that God had appeared before me as Jessica Simpson! I looked directly into Marilotta’s eyes and said, “I think that you and I should go for a little stroll. But those ankle-strapped, high-heeled sandals of yours are going to make it rather difficult for you to walk with me, around the lake, with all of the protruding rocks, fallen timber, tall grass, and stuff. There’s one good thing about it, though. You don’t have to worry about me getting ahead of you as we walk. It’s not easy for me to get around, either, with all of my armor, particularly in these big, clumsy, heavy, steel boots! Before we get back to the car, our mile or so stroll, together, might turn into more of a crawl, for both of us!”

“If we’re going for a walk, let’s get moving,” Marilotta said, a sound of urgency in her voice. “It’s pretty cool this evening; the steady breeze off the lake is giving me the chills. A good, brisk walk might warm me up a little. Just look at that beautiful, bright-orange-and-crimson sunset. The evening clouds over the Atlantic Ocean offer the same kind of warm, brilliantly colored sunsets as we so often see in Beverly Hills. Nature’s more scenic sights always put me in a romantic mood. Wantsalittle, let’s be on our way.”

Marilotta Light extended her soft, delicate, right hand to my left steel glove. We began our stroll, hand in glove, around the legendary lake.

I hated to spoil Marilotta’s romantic frame of mind. But as we started to walk, our eyes mutually focused on the colorful, spectacular, England sunset, I said, “Marilotta, my love, there was something that happened last night that I should try to explain . . .”

Later that evening, after Marilotta and I finished our stroll around the lake, we got into the Corvette. Then I hit the big white Home button on the time-travel module. Instantly, we arrived back at Willie’s estate in Beverly Hills on May 27, 2007 at 4:30 P.M., the exact same time that I left on my wacky journey into time. Soon after we returned the car to Willie, Marilotta and I went to my condo, not far from Willie’s place. We started to write my autobiography, which I discussed in the previous chapter (Episode Forty-nine). My trip was complete. My journey into time had been an overwhelming success!

(The moral of this episode: Shed light on all of your true feelings. Love yourself and love all others, unconditionally. When you do, all worthwhile things will become possible!)