could be more than you had ever hoped for in this lifetime.”
Deaf Lemon gaped in awe. The voice was so honest, so confident,
so resonant and so unlike the speech of the loudmouth, that had he
known better, he might have assumed him of a different species. His
speech was like song. Lemon wondered what his songs would be like.
Yeshua continued, “It is of the utmost importance that you
believe what I am about to tell you all,” he addressed the room, “so
that we may set the wheels in motion. I realize that what you are
about to hear may come as a bit of a shock, but if you bear with me,
you’ll soon understand that it’s true.”
The room fell momentarily silent as Yeshua prepared himself.
After looking down for a moment, he raised his head and began
speaking.
“I am Jesus Christ. Seated next to me here are Moses,
Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, and Zarathustra. We have returned to
earth after thousands of your years to decide whether, as a species,
you are fit to go on governing the earth, or if we will have to start all
over again. As promised by scriptures that were for better or worse,
poor approximations of our original teachings, Judgment day is upon
you. Sorry about that.”
“Great,” complained Muchoman, already formulating a plan of
escape, “We’ve been kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics.”
“Look who’s talking, you freak,” snapped Gareth, “You’re
wearing your underwear over your pants and socks over your shoes.”
“This is my Muchosuit. I am Muchoman. Perhaps you’ve heard of
me?”
“You’re the guy those gay guys sing about!” exclaimed Bob.
“No, son. I’m a superhero—someone who performs heroic deeds
with his secret superpowers of invisibility and super-speed and so
forth.”
“Oh!” Bob rejoiced with increasing excitement, “Didn’t you fight
against the Fantastic Four?”
“No, son,” said the hero magnanimously, “That’s a comic book.
I’m real.”
“Awesome!” exclaimed Bob, now almost fawning, “Then you can
save us from these guys!”
“Oh Jesus,” Gareth wailed in frustration.
“I’m trying,” Yeshua maintained.
“Huh? No, not you, weirdo. Listen,” said Gareth, adopting a more
conciliatory tone. “Listen, what do you nutballs want from us
H O L Y S H I T !
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