December 27, 2007

Ye Olde Scribe Presents: A Quite Short, Somewhat Seasonal, Slightly Post Xmas, Tale

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ye Olde Scribe @ 4:14 pm

 It had to be a mistake. Did Dr. Peabody set the Wayback Machine wrong? Did an Angel slip on a celestial banana peel and interfere with the second coming? (There is a Gannon joke there somewhere, of this Scribe is sure.)

Just past Christmas, just before what he hoped really WOULD be a “New” Year, Jesus went… POP! And appeared on the set of CSI.

“Stop! Stop! Who is that smelly guy who just appeared on set!”

“But I came here to deliver my Father’s message of love and forgiveness…”

“Damn, stupid hippies. Don’t you guys know all the media is under the influence of Murdoch now? Anything, young, new and politically incorrect must be slaughtered in its crib! Get this Liberal scum outta here.”

And the next thing he knew a big boot kicked him out the door. With the help of an invisibility shield borrowed from The Holy Ghost… (Wouldn’t want to pay THAT late fee, would ya?) …and a large amount of bribes in the form of water coolers zapped and refilled with wine so Security outside the set was too drunk to pay attention, Jesus started to visit sets. He could hear the occasional “Jesus Loves Me This I Know” being sung… poorly. Wine can do that to the vocal chords.

POP! Onto the set of the O’Lielly Factor…

“Who’s this pinhead?”

“I’m the Prince of Peace.”

“Don’t you know the 60s are over?

“’60s?’ No, no, no I bring you a message of…”


“Verily, I say unto you, you should turn the other…”

“I say to you… YOU’RE OUTTA HERE!”

Jesus, once again, was outside another heathen temple of Rupert, rubbing his bum where it had hit the sidewalk. Of course it instantly healed.

“Maybe our message is lost here, Father.”

So, POP! He was on stage. He started to preach, until Simon interrupted.

“That’s the worst preaching I’ve heard in my life. Have you thought of celestial cleaning toilets for a living? Besides, we only do one type of entertainment here.”

“But shouldn’t we love all the….”

“You obviously know NOTHING about marketing and humiliating people for vast amounts of cash…”

So, yes… you guessed right dear reader, once again, security on set had left him sore and healing himself.

“Now I have to bribe another set of security guards outside the set. Wish they’d give me enough time to do it ON set. Oh, well… the Lord’s work… I mean MY work, is never done. Guess I’ll need to start by moving in a mysterious way again. (Of course, as we all know, divine bowel movements are even more mysterious… but there are some things best left unknown, right?)

So he… POPPED! …outside a building with a sign saying “The reason for the season is JESUS!”

“Ah, Father, I think we’ve found some followers, maybe new disciples…”

A few minutes later after finally getting as tired of all the pimping of the flock as he did the greedy moneychangers: as in trying to get them to give up their life savings while declaring Junior was doing God’s work, Christians had to be Neo-Cons and anyone who disagreed with King Junior was in league with the devil…

“Perhaps, I say unto you, you misunderstood my message, and my parables. I preached of…”

Sore and healing himself again, outside this theocratic den of inequity, he asked his Father if, maybe this one time, he could spare a few lightning bolts and bring down an Old Testament case of butt woopin on their pathetic tails.

No answer.

“OK, I guess that means, ‘No.’ But what SHOULD I do?”

The answer in the voice no human, other than his Son, can really hear… (Though Michael Jackson and quite a few priests DO think they hear God singing… “JESUS! Love the Little Children!”) …came back with a somewhat nasally boom. (He had a cold when a bird of peace, named “Enza,” flew up his nose: as in “In-Flew-Enza.”)…

“Forgive them, my Son, for they know not what they do.”

“What about this Junior guy they worship who claims you tell him what to do.”

“No, not him. He’s just a really, REALLY dangerous dumb-fuck. I’ve got plans for HIM.”

Scribe hopes you’ve had a happy Ho-D-Ho, Ho, and you will have a really special New Year, and we ALL have a lot less of that Neo-Con “miracle:” how, when someone dares to disagree, they produce the endless supply of WHINE. So, New Years, let’s toast to the hope that we get all the political HOS out of the White House and into prison in 08.

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