Prologue

A.D. 1999

It was a cool December evening in Pensacola, Florida when a large group of Democrats, who called themselves Democrats Anonymous, were shopping for some hyperbaric chambers. It was almost the year 2000, and with all the fuss about Y2K, they didn't want to take any chances. They also wanted to live for another 80 years, even though most of them were over 40.

They walked into a store that advertised hyperbaric chambers and asked the clerk for one chamber each. The clerk told them that it would cost $45,000 each. They promptly pulled out the credit card that they had 'borrowed' from Donald Trump and swiped it. They typed in his numbers and the clerk told them that he'd get a few men to help him carry the chambers out to their vehicles.

The next day they called the number that they had seen on TV for Bob Barefoot's Coral Calcium. They told the operator that they wanted 200 bottles and First Class Mail so that it would arrive within the week. They told him the numbers to Donald Trump's credit card and then hung up. Now everything was all set - they could now use the hyperbaric chambers and had only to wait for the arrival of the Coral Calcium in the mail.

A.D. 2040

Chapter I

The Fellowship Reunited

It was a cool April evening in Corry, Pennsylvania where Special Agent Jon Zinger was at Corry Baptist Church. All of his old friends were back visiting for a Fellowship of the Nate 34th anniversary reunion. RJ, the now-famous Hollywood Producer was there after finishing filming on Captain America: The Movie. He had produced SPIDER-MAN 10 through SPIDER-MAN 15 as well as Justice League Unlimited.

The famed evangelist Charles Smith was also there, and down to 200 pounds, with several grandchildren now. Nate was back, having just retired as the WWE's primary announcer, and down to 175 pounds, and his first child was getting married that summer. He was not there, for he was a member of the Alliance church. Rachel was also there, married to a Sgt. James Foley of the FBI. He had liked the name Foley much better than his previous name of Edwards, so he decided to take her name instead of vice versa. They had five children, Bess, Kristin, Amber, Jon and Charles. Sgt. James had become very good friends with Zinger as they had somewhat similar careers.

Toast was also back in town from her job as a nurse in Seattle, Washington, where she had been observing the age-old adage 'laughter, the best medicine'. She had married Will Turner, a psychologist, and they had been living very happily in Seattle and now had two children, Rachel and Jack. Matt Hulings, who had been making a fairly large salary portraying Charlie Brown on Broadway, was there with his wife, Joanna, and their three children, Justin, Rachel, and Rob.

Paul, who had joined the Fellowship of the Nate just after Zinger's last confrontation with Billy Bob, was there on vacation from his job as an NFL analyst on ESPN with his wife, Grace, and their son, Fred. Joel Woodard, who had also joined just after that, was there with his wife Lois, and daughter Betty. Zinger's sisters Denise and Marion were there, along with their husbands Tim and Chris, who were both preachers. Denise and Tim had three children, and five grandchildren so far. Marion and Chris had two children, and one grandchild. Zinger, to no one's surprise, was still not married or dating anyone.

As soon as the final prayer was said by Bro. Tim Bretz, Zinger turned his cell phone on and found that there was a voice-mail message from Nate. 'Hey, Jon - can you come over to my house for a moment? I'd like to talk to you. See you later, and toodle-pip.'

'Well guys, I guess I'll be leaving you - I've got to go make a house call.' With that Zinger walked out the door, entered his 2030 Honda CR-V, and drove off.

Chapter II

The Brideless Prince

Special Agent Jon Zinger turned into Nate's driveway off of Marion Street and drove up it. He then parked his car and got out. Nate was standing on the back sidewalk to his house holding a sword. 'Hey Nate, what's up?' queried Zinger as he approached Nate.

Nate pointed the sword at Zinger and said, 'You seem a decent fellow - I hate to kill you.'

'You seem a decent fellow,' replied Zinger, startled. 'I hate to die. By the way, what sin of mine has warranted you to kill me?'

'Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father; prepare to die.'

'That does put a damper on our relationship, doesn't it?' realized Zinger. 'But I thought your name was Nathan Jewell.'

'Oh, perhaps you're right,' agreed Nate. 'Hello, my name is Nathan P. Jewell. You killed my father; prepare to die.'

'Um, Nate - your father died over ten years ago from natural causes. I did not kill him.'

'Oh, perhaps you're right,' agreed Nate reluctantly. 'What reason have I to kill you then?'

'Nothing comes to mind,' said Zinger.

'Oh - sorry, Jon - I've just been having some strange dreams lately and getting them confused with reality.'

'Well, that's okay - it happens to the worst of us - and the best of them for that matter. Just forget about it, Nate.'

'Oh, thank you so much, Jon. I would've had a hard time letting you off that easy had our roles been reversed. You still don't have a wife yet, do you? You need to find yourself a bride - for the love of Pete, you're over 50!'

'I myself am often surprised at life's little quirks. But I'm not at all worried about it - if God wants me to get married, He'll provide me a wife. I don't need to go look myself - I'm liable to get the wrong one. I'd rather just leave it in God's hands, and apparently He doesn't want me to get married yet, and I'm glad.'

'You know, Jon, now that I've retired from commentating for the WWE, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.'

'Have you ever considered piracy? You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts.'

Nate shrugged and said, 'Not really. I'd rather not get into piracy.'

'Well, I can't say that I blame you. But now that that's over with, I think that I'll be heading home. Now try not to confuse the difference between dreams and reality. Toodle-pip.'

'Toodle-pip, Jon,' said Nate as Jon stepped back into his car and drove off.

Chapter III

Depending Definitions

As Zinger was on his way home, his cell phone rang. 'Hello, Zinger here.'

'Hey Zinger, it's the chief. I have just received reports that there is a high-speed police chase on Route 6 headed towards Corry. The State Police have been chasing this guy for about half an hour now. They're headed this way from out beyond WAL*MART. Why don't you get out there and intercept them. Then you can get in front of the guy.'

'Right on it, Chief,' responded Zinger. 'I'll talk to you later then – keep me updated as to where they are and everything – I'll have the phone hooked up through my car's speaker system. Zinger out.'

Zinger then altered course and headed for Route 6. When he got to the Route 6-Shady Avenue intersection, he turned right until he got to Ace Hardware. His cell phone rang again. He plugged it in to his speaker system and answered it. 'Zinger here.'

'Hey, Zinger, where are you at?'

'Just nearing Ace Hardware.'

'Turn around. They're almost there now. The madman has just passed the Y in the road before Columbus.'

'Whoa! I guess I had better turn around. Well, I'd better let you go, Chief. Zinger out.' He turned his phone off and checked to make sure no cars were in close proximity, then did a U-Turn. He then put his lights on top of his car and looked in his mirror. They were coming. The madman passed him before Zinger could get up enough speed. He quickly gained on him though.

The police shouted on their bullhorns to the maniac, 'Pull over!' The man pulled into the eastbound land and kept going. 'I said pull over!'

The man in the car had his own bullhorn and he replied, 'That depends on what the meaning of the word pull over is.'

'Pull over!' they shouted again. He pulled back over into the westbound lane. At least he wasn't facing oncoming traffic anymore. Zinger sped up. Realizing that there was a slight break in traffic, he pulled alongside the menace. He looked into the driver's seat of the car and he could not believe who he saw. It was Bill Clinton! The former president of the United States. 'I must admit that he's in pretty good condition for his age,' thought Zinger as they neared WAL*MART.

Chapter IV

Bill's Pandemonium

Fortunately people at the Shady Avenue-Route 6 intersection began to turn off onto Shady when they saw the police cars coming. The intersection was clear as they neared it. Zinger steered to his right and bumped into Clinton's car. Clinton bumped back, nearly forcing Zinger off the road. Zinger over-corrected, forcing Clinton off the road and into the big ditch by WAL*MART. Zinger's car followed, but went over Clinton's car and ramped into the WAL*MART parking lot. Through what could only be divine intervention, Zinger's car landed in a spot where no other cars where, and no people were.

Also by the grace of God, Zinger was not harmed other than a large bump on his head where it hit the side of the car. It was a good thing that he was wearing his seatbelt. He quickly got out of the car and ran over to the guardrail and leaped over the edge towards Clinton's car. The police were not able to stop in time, zipping right past and were only able to stop in time to turn into the Erie Plastic's parking lot.

Zinger landed next to Clinton's car, but did not land firmly. He hit, fell, rolled, and stood up once again. He opened Clinton's car door and pulled him out. Clinton reached back inside the car and grabbed a couple of pills out of his bottle of Coral Calcium.

'Are you popping pills, Clinton?'

'That depends on what the meaning of the word popping pills is,' said Clinton as he threw them in his mouth.

'I meant just that, but forget it now,' said Zinger as he pulled Clinton back out of the car.

'Who are you?' asked Clinton in astonishment.

'No one of consequence,' replied Zinger.

'I must know.'

'Get used to disappointment.'

'Oh, come on. Tell me!'

'I am Brian Connors, king of all the leprechauns!'

'You're a bit big to be a leprechaun, don't you think?'said Clinton just before he threw a hard punch to Zinger's jaw.

'That depends on what the meaning of the word leprechaun is. You never give up, do you, Slick Willy?' groaned Zinger as he stood.

'That depends on what the meaning of the word give up is,' Clinton replied.

'You just exhaled,' said Zinger.

'I did not inhale,' said Clinton indignantly.

'To exhale or not to exhale; that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the lung to suffer slings and arrows of outrageous cancer. But I did not say anything about inhaling. I said you exhaled.'

'Oh – then, I did not exhale.'

'Well, then how are you still alive?' questioned Zinger with a bit of confusion upon his face.

'I'm going to kill you, Mr. Smart-Alec.'

'Alec Baldwin or Alec Guinness?' asked Zinger.

Clinton was furious and had just slugged Zinger again, when he was brought to the ground by someone from behind. Jack the WAL*MART Assistant Manager, who had once been a cart-pusher, had also leaped over the guardrail and landed right on top of Clinton, tackling him to the ground. 'Thanks, Mr. Beanstalk,' said Zinger.

Clinton threw a punch to Jack's jaw just before Zinger pulled Clinton's legs out from under him. Clinton rolled over and kicked Zinger in the forehead, knocking him out. He stood up and turned to face Jack, but Jack punched him hard in the chin, drawing blood. Clinton staggered backwards, and Jack was about punch him again when a look of fear from Clinton's face told him to move aside. Clinton was looking above Jack's head at Jeremiah another cart-pusher turned Assistant Manager, who was much bigger than Clinton. Jeremiah had took off running from the other side of the parking lot, and then jumped over the guardrail with a monstrous leap.

At that moment Jeremiah landed right on top of Clinton, crushing about five ribs and his fibula, not to mention his ego. Jack helped Jeremiah remove himself from Clinton, and Clinton was embedded into the ground. 'Good job, 'Miah,' said Jack.

'Don't you think we ought to wake Zinger?' suggested Jeremiah.

'Oh yeah, good idea,' said Jack as he knelt down and slapped Zinger's face a number of times, bringing him to.

Zinger stood up with his right hand next to his head, index finger curled, and said, 'Be happy.'

'Oh, I assure you – we're all quite happy now,' said the State Police Trooper who had just now come to the top of the ditch. 'Thank you kindly, Special Agent Jon Zinger. I've heard a lot about you, and it's a privilege to meet you,' he said as he walked down to meet him. He stuck out his hand and they shook. 'My name's Trooper Hawkins, and I'm stationed in Warren. You're a legend in your own time.'

'Thank you, Trooper Hawkins, but I'm hardly a legend,' said Zinger bashfully. 'The only reason I've even been able to capture one crook is because of my God helping me.'

'Well, it's good to see that someone else in law enforcement these days is a Christian.'

'Yes, it is – but you also should thank Jack and Jeremiah here. I'd never have done it without them. It is always a friend or few that comes and helps me out that helps me solve cases. Second only to my God, my relationships is another chief factor in my success. I'd never have beaten very many villains were it not for my good friends being willing to sacrifice themselves for me. And praise God, Jack and Jeremiah did the same thing today. Well, we'd best get Mr. Clinton out of the ground.'

Within a few minutes the ambulance came and took Bill Clinton off to Corry Memorial Hospital. As they were loading him onto the ambulance, he began talking in a stupour. 'Sorry I failed you, boss. That depends on what the meaning of the word fail is.'

'Hmm,' thought Zinger. 'I wonder who this boss is that he's talking about. That doesn't sound good. It sounds like I may have to go after someone else worse than him soon. Well, I guess that I'd better pray.' At that, Zinger knelt down right there in the ditch off of Route 6 and thanked God for his victory, if it was indeed victory, that day.

Chapter V

The Adventures of Milo and Otis

After Special Agent Jon Zinger had finished praying, he walked up to the parking lot at WAL*MART and approached his vehicle. It didn't look so bad, considering all it had just gone through. It was still drivable, the tires were fine, and not out of alignment as far as he could tell. The front bumper was on the ground though, rather banged up. 'Oh well, I suppose that I mustn't complain about trifles right now. After all, it should be worse than it is. Praise God it isn't any worse. Well, I'd better get home. Then I can get a good night's rest and in the morning figure out who this boss is that Clinton was talking about, if in fact he was telling the truth. Knowing him, he might be able to lie even when not in his right mind.' Zinger then got into his car and drove on home.

When he got home, he went inside and sat down on the couch to relax. No sooner had he done so, his phone rang. 'Hello, Zinger here,' he sighed.

'Hello, Zinger – you don't know who this is,' said the voice on the other line. 'But you do know who I am though.'

'Stop speaking in circles. Speak a straight line,' demanded Zinger.

'I may just speak in rectangles, or even triangles if it'll confuse you.'

You sound somewhat familiar, have I beaten you before?'

'No, but I'll give you a hint. I was nearly president at one time.'

'Ralph Nader?'

'No – I'm as much Ralph Nader as you are Eminem. And believe me, I know how different you are from him. He knows how different you are from me. You know how different he is from her. There I go again, speaking in triangles. Back to the point. I lost the presidential election to George W. Bush in 2004, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.'

'Hmm, I'm not sure that I remember. I have part-timers, you know, and I don't remember back that far that well. Was it Donald Trump?'

'No, you idiotic rodent. I'll give you another hint. I had purple hearts from the Vietnam war, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.'

'Truly you have a dizzying intellect.'

'Wait till I get going! Where was I?'

'You were trying to get me to guess who you were.'

'Oh, yes. I had purple hearts from the Vietnam war.'

'Ted Kennedy?'

'No, you stupid expletive retard. I'm John Kerry.'

'Now where have I heard that name before? Hmm. Oh yes, I remember now. The queer-loving, baby-killing, flip-flopping, lying coward who promised to defend our country after it was attacked.'

'I'm going to kill you!' shouted Kerry.

'Well, that's entirely up to you. You may try if you want, but I really have no preference in the matter.'

'What? You have no preference in the matter? How can you have no preference in the matter?'

'For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain.'

'What in the world are you talking about, Zinger? You really are a long lost puzzle.'

'Why, thank you, Mr. Kerry. I'm quite flattered.'

'Oh, whatever. I'll kill you tomorrow.'

'You may try if you wish. See you then.' With that John Kerry hung up the phone rather violently. 'Oh well, I guess that I'd better get some shuteye,' yawned Zinger as he zonked out right there on the couch.

Chapter VI

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

Zinger awoke the next morning to find that his house had been ransacked. And he was not on his couch anymore. He was on the lazy boy. His computer was all torn apart, his couch had been ripped open, and his The Hobbit DVD was gone. Then he noticed on the dining room table was a single piece of paper. Zinger realized that it must be the 'calling card' of whoever had done this. There was a large red circle, and inside of it was a picture of Lindsay Lohan's Speak CD. Zinger had long wanted to destroy every copy of that CD, which had been released 35 years ago, and now the fact that he had not had come back to haunt him.

'Speak in Circles. John Kerry,' said Zinger. 'It seems as if he has realized that killing me won't bother me, and has tried another tactic.' Zinger then realized that there was a note underneath Kerry's calling card. He moved the card and read what was underneath.

'Zinger: come to the front steps of the Corry Journal, face the steps, turn left, and walk ten paces. Turn right, and you will find me along with my bloody sidekick, and more of my minions.'

Well, then – I guess that I'd better go,' said Zinger as he ran outside without even thinking of changing his clothes. He jumped into his car and turned the ignition. He sped off towards the Journal and upon his arrival, he pulled into the parking lot. After he parked, he ran to the front steps. He turned left and walked five paces. His left knee locked on the fifth pace. 'Oh, you stupid knee. Now I know I'm getting old,' he said as he pushed at his knee. Finally it unlocked and Zinger gave a sigh of relief.

'You old fogy,' said a voice to the right of Zinger. He turned and saw John Kerry. Next to him was Al Gore.

'So when you said your bloody sidekick, you were not using a British profanity – you were simply referring to his last name. Blood and Gore – ingenious. By the way, that was only five paces.'

'Well,' said Kerry with disgust. 'You do stride a bit longer than expected.'

'Which is possibly why my knee locked in place. Well, it was probably due to all of my bicycle accidents as a teenager. I was rather insane back then, and still am.' As Zinger finished speaking, Kerry strode up to him punched Zinger hard, throwing him into a flip, causing him to land on his back. Zinger stood up, crouching forward, holding his back. 'Oh, my back. My back.'

'I must say,' flipped Kerry. 'You aren't back, I don't think,' he flopped. 'I daresay you won't be back for a while,' he flip-flopped this time. 'You have made some decisions that I, maybe, would not have made. But my decision is not to say what decisions I would have made. Uh, do you like my medals?' Kerry asked as he pointed to the purple hearts on his military uniform.

'Mr. Kerry,' addressed Zinger. 'You are completely and utterly unfit to wear that uniform.' As he said that he pulled the army jacket off of Kerry. He hobbled over to the curb and hung it on the No Parking 5 PM Even Days to 5 PM Odd Days sign that was there. He then turned back to Kerry and noticed the rest of his gang. They included Al Gore, Ed Rendell, Ted Kennedy, Michael Moore, Billy Bob Thornton, Vin Diesel, Eminem, Lindsay Lohan, John Edwards, Rick Filippi, and Arlen Specter. They all looked nearly as they had in the early 2000's.

'But weren't you a republican, Mr. Specter?' asked Zinger.

'Officially, yes – but I was really a democrat masquerading as a republican.'

'Ah, I always suspected it was so. But how did you guys do it? You look just as you looked back in the early goose eggs.'

'Well, just before the year 2000, we formed a group called Democrat Anonymous,' announced Kerry. 'We were worried about Y2K, and justifiably so. We bought some hyperbaric chambers; one for each of us, and ordered hundreds of bottles of Bob Barefoot's Coral Calcium. That, my friends, is the secret for our mysterious age-enhancing, decomposing, exactly the opposite of what I just said, enhancer.'

'Show me thy faith without thy works,' said Al Gore.

'For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:', replied Zinger. 'Not of works, lest any man should boast.'

'Please, no pictures please, I just want my privacy' said Ms. Lohan. 'I'm so hot, aren't I?'

'As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman who is without discretion. Proverbs 11:22.'

'Don't insult my darling, you idiotonic!' shouted Kerry as he landed a hard kick on Zinger's jaw, picked him up, and threw him in front of the Journal steps, knocking him out. 'Do not think you can defeat us. You are already defeated,' he said as he walked forward slowly towards Zinger, savouring every moment of his apparent victory.

Chapter VII

Armageddon... Well, Not Quite

'You are already defeated,' he said as he walked forward slowly towards Zinger, savouring every moment of his apparent victory.

'Not so fast, you Dumocrat,' said a voice from across the street. Kerry turned just in time to hear a voice say, 'We are the Fellowship of the Nate, or at least we used to be.'

'Looks like you still are,' flopped Kerry. 'Well, I disagree with that statement – I don't think you are anymore,' he flipped. 'Well, maybe you are. No, no – you can't be the Fellowship of the Nate anymore,' he flop-flipped. 'Yes, that is my official stand on this issue: you are not the Fellowship of the Nate anymore,' he flippety-flopped.

'Are you absolutely sure about that, John Fairy?' asked the nine-pin.

'There are no, like, absolutes,' declared Kerry as he fully turned his body towards them.

'Are you absolutely sure about that?' asked the ten-pin.

'Er, yes, I am absolutely sure about that,' he floppety-flipped.

There were nine men and two women standing across the street, aligned like a set of bowling pins – Nate in front, Rachel and Toast just behind him, Chris, Tim Minge, and Tim Bretz behind them. Just behind them were Matt, Paul, RJ, and Joel. Then there was Jevin behind them. 'Perfect time for a strike, but with one more pin,' observed Kerry.

'You won't be getting a strike anytime soon,' declared Nate. The Fellowship of the Nate then crossed the street and walked towards Democrats Anonymous, sending them cowering back into the alleyway behind.

John Kerry suddenly pulled a gun out on them and cocked the trigger. 'You'll never survive!' he flippety-flopped.

'Nonsense,' said Chris. You're only saying that because no-one ever has.' Zinger stirred on the sidewalk, unseen by Kerry.

'But we will,' said Tim Minge. 'I personally wouldn't mind tearing that big nose off your face, Dumbocrat.' Zinger stood to his feet and began to walk towards the battle.

'You'll all die for that!' shouted Kerry as he pulled the trigger. Just as he pulled the trigger, Zinger jumped in front of the Fellowship, blocking the bullet. He fell to the ground, mortally wounded.

Kerry dropped the gun, shocked at what he had committed in his cowardice. Everyone stopped and looked at Zinger laying on the ground. 'Greater love hath no man than this,' quoted Chris. 'That a man lay down his life for his friends.'

Rachel was the first to bring herself back to reality. 'Why, you dog-blasted, lily-livered, spaghetti-spined, grammatically-challenged son of a democrat!' she said angrily as she charged forward.

Kerry lifted his right index finger next to his head. 'I am not, like, grammatically challenged.'

Rachel then grabbed him in a choke-hold and slammed him on the ground. Then she rather violently poked her fingers up beneath his cheekbones on either side, causing him to scream. 'You don't kill my friends!'

Nate charged forward and grabbed Gore by the neck and slammed him on the ground. RJ did a spin kick into Ed Rendell's face, knocking him to the ground. He then jumped on his belly, causing him to violently exhale. Toast ran over to Lindsay Lohan and said, 'I've been wanting to do this for 35 years!' She then pulled Lohan's hair so hard that she fell to the ground. Lohan began to cry. 'Don't Speak!' said Toast as she put her foot on Lohan's mouth.

Paul ran forward, then did a backward flip and kicked Vin Diesel in the face, and gave him an elbow drop. Vin Diesel winced and moaned in pain. Jevin kicked Eminem between the legs. 'My precious,' he screamed as he fell to the ground, clutching himself. Charlie Brown, being a man of few words simply uttered 'Hi-yah,' punched John Edwards with his right fist, then turned and kicked Rick Filippi in the jaw.

Tim Bretz punched Ted Kennedy in the forehead so hard that he was rendered unconscious. Tim Minge landed an uppercut to the bottom of Thornton's jaw. Chris grimaced at Michael Moore, then hit him on top of his head, knocking him out. 'You should've called it Celsius 911!'

Joel karate-chopped Specter in each shoulder, then punched him in the solar plexus. 'Take a deep breath,' said Joel sarcastically.

Nate walked over to Zinger and rolled him over. 'Do not grieve. You shall see me again, on the other shore', said Zinger as his eyes closed one last time.

'So passes Jonathan son of Myron defender and protector of Corry,' said Nate sadly as he stood up. 'But we will see him again. When we get to heaven.'

Chapter VIII

Soul Harvest

It was Friday, just three days after the death of Special Agent Jon Zinger. The chief was sitting at his desk at headquarters, trying to pull himself together. He knew he had to find another agent soon, but it was too much. Zinger had been such a good friend to him in his years with the agency. It was time for him to retire. He knew that he must.

While he was musing the fire burned. He turned to look at the fireplace just as the door opened and Pastor Sanders Anderson walked through the door. He was the Pastor of Corry Baptist Church, the church that Zinger went to, and had been the Pastor there for over 35 years. 'Hello, Chief. I just figured that I'd better stop over and talk to you.'

'Thank you very much, Pastor,' said the Chief. 'That was a great sermon you preached at the funeral yesterday. What a great sermon – “The Other Shore.”'

'Yes, Zinger has crossed to the other shore. And remember that he is much happier where he is now. He was happy here, but the degree of happiness that he has there is much more than he ever had here. I also made a point of the fact that he died for his friends, not for himself. Like the Bible says, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”'

'Yes – and what I also loved about Zinger was that he wasn't the ideal Agent. With an Agent you'd normally think of somebody who's always beating the bad guy up at the end or saving the day himself. Zinger didn't do that – he wasn't that great of a fighter, and the villain usually beat him up or knocked him out before the end. But it was his relationships that saved him – it was the importance that he placed on relationships. He always placed the utmost importance on his relationships, even more importance than his life, as he showed in the end.

'And because of the importance that he placed on his relationships, his friends formed the Fellowship of the Nate back in 2006 when he first faced Billy Bob Matthews. Billy Bob got the best of him and knocked him out, but then his friends came and saved the day. It always happened the same way; his friends putting it all on the line for him because he'd done the same for them at one point or another.'

'Yes,' agreed Pastor Anderson. 'But above all, it was his relationship with God that enabled him to be such a great agent. When he went to confront the villain or couldn't find the villain, he knelt down and asked God for His help. And God always came through for him. God always comes through for you, no matter what it is. He'll always help you as long as you serve Him. You'll never regret serving Him.

'Well, we didn't hold the funeral at Bracken's as most people expected, but we held it in Corry Baptist Church for that was where Zinger wanted it held. 25 people got saved, including the funeral director Dr. James Whitmore. Praise God. The funeral was also televised Live in the area by WJET TV 24. I've had several people call in to tell me that they got saved in their own homes during the invitation of the funeral. I believe I've had 75 call in and say that they got saved yesterday. That makes 100 – praise the Lord. It reminds me of Adoniram Judson, who in his entire ministry did not see very many souls saved. But after he died, thousands of people got saved as a result of his ministry.

'Well, I guess that I'd better get going, and I'll talk to you later. But before I go, let's pray. “Dear Lord, I thank you for this opportunity to stop by and talk to the chief here, and I thank you for using me to reach 100 souls yesterday. I also thank you for giving us Zinger for the amount of time that you have. Help us to realize that you should be number one in our lives, and help us to all value our relationships as much as Zinger did. Thank you Lord, in Jesus' name, Amen.'