You Thought Wrong (248 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Parlor Trick (View user info) at 2005-07-26 03:46:26 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
Tha-thump.
He heard the noise. The sudden rise and fall of the wheels jarred him awake from his drunken haze. Even as he looked back and saw the shape of a human figure in the road in generally the location where the tha-thump had occurred, he couldn't have imagined the sequence of events this unfortunate accident would trigger.
Peter sat frozen for several minutes starring back at the motionless form. Both of them were still as if in a full body stare down, first one to move loses. But Peter was at a disadvantage as the other guy was dead and movement was quite impossible for him.
The night was dark except for the light of the moon, which spotlighted the scene of a drunken man gently nudging the body of another drunk now dead man with the toe of his sandal. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! What have I done?" The increasingly sober Peter moaned as he looked at the body and then fearfully in either direction down the street. No one was coming. No one had seen. He scanned the deserted street again and one more time for good measure.
It is times like these that it is helpful to have friends with experience with times like these. Peter was blessed with many friends but only one came to mind at this precarious moment. His poorly named buddy Judas was always willing to go outside the boundaries if the situation seemed to warrant it. Judas was an opportunist and a fearless and somewhat loyal friend. Judas would know what to do. Peter dragged the body behind a nearby shed, covered it with boards and ran as fast as he could down the alley to Judas' house.
"We've got to figure out a way to get rid of the body and any evidence." Judas, a master of elementary crime scene management, said matter-of-factly,
"I'm feeling really bad about this, Judas, I didn't see the guy. Is there a chance he committed suicide?" Peter was looking for anything that would help alleviate the acute case of guilt he found himself afflicted with.
"No, no, I really don't think anyone's going to buy into the suicide theory, Peter." Judas said, and Peter slumped in his chair.
"What would Jesus do?" asked Peter hopefully.
"Let's go ask him."
The two men headed off down the dusty streets of Bethlehem to Jesus' house. The night was quiet as the Muslims wouldn't be around for another 400 years. Along the way the men stopped at the houses of Andrew, James, John, Phillip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, the other James, and Thaddaeus, as the situation called for a variety of perspectives and the utmost discretion.
Despite the late hour, the small group of men knocked aggressively on the door of the little cabin. Moments later a disheveled looking Mary, Maggie, as they called her, opened the door.
"What are you guys doing?" She surveyed the group of friends.
"We've come to see Jesus," they answered in unison.
"Jesus is sleeping."
"Come on Maggie, we really, really, really need to talk to him. We've got a problem."
"You and everybody else," Maggie mumbled and turned, leaving the door open for the men to come in behind her. Jesus, in his robe, appeared before them moments later.
"What's up guys?"
With much sniveling and gesturing Peter told Jesus the story of how the wagon, which he happened to have been driving, ran over the man who was currently the dead man under the boards behind the shed. When Peter finished everyone waited expectantly for Jesus to comment.
Jesus tugged thoughtfully on his beard and said, "Let me sleep on it."
"Why don't you guys come back tomorrow at seven, we'll have supper and I'll have a plan by then."
They all agreed and went home and came back the next day at seven.
"Ok, now that I've had some time to think about it. I have a plan." Jesus told the group. The friends gathered around the table. Maggie served them bread and wine and Mathew declared the ante for the first hand of Whose the Donkey.
"Why must our get-togethers always involve booze and cards - why not tea and poetry? Just once?" John complained to no one, and no one listened.
The cards were dealt, and Jesus began.
"After careful contemplation, I've decided that Peter's unfortunate accident, and the resulting dead man, may he rest in peace," Jesus paused an obligatory moment while his friends followed suit. "...is indeed the best thing that could've happened to us all." Jesus had a way of putting a positive spin on things.
"Some of you may have been listening to me rant recently about the general decline of the human condition. The corruption, violence, selfishness is running rampant and must be stopped."
"Here he goes again," whispered Thedeous to Matthew under his breath.
"We're going to use Peter's predicament as a springboard to start a movement! All we need is a worthy message, at least one miracle, and as luck would have it, a dead guy. So we're almost there."
"I'd consider it a miracle if anyone would trade me this glass of water for his glass of wine..." slurred Matthew who had already had his glass of wine three times over. Jesus made the trade and continued with his plan.
"I would like, for the benefit of all mankind, to be given the opportunity to use our dead comrade as a partner in creating the illusion of my death and subsequent martyrdom. I say 'illusion of my death' as my actual death would be most inconvenient for me right now."
Bartholomew stopped shuffling and starred blankly at Jesus along with the others. Maggie was nodding quietly in agreement as if she and Jesus had discussed the plan the night before.
Jesus continued.
"Everyone knows that nothing gets you noticed better than dying. Imagine if you could get all the benefits of dying without actually having to be the one to stop breathing. As luck would have it, we have, shall we say a - 'volunteer' behind the shed to do that. But we must act quickly as it was 90 degrees today."
Peter was the first one to speak. "Jesus, are you suggesting that you would essentially die for my sin?"
"Well, ultimately it would be for the benefit of all mankind, of which you are included, so yes."
Jesus went on. "Following dinner I intend to go to the local bakery and steal a loaf of bread. I will do it in such as way as to ensure my capture. As you all know tomorrow happens to be Thursday and crucifixion day. To pay for my crime, I will be sentenced to be crucified along with the other criminals currently slated for the event. However, in a clever act of trickery with the help of my friends, it will not be I on the cross but actually our volunteer."
"It'll never work." Said Thomas, who doubted everything. "How are you going to make the switch?
"As luck would have it, the guard at the prison who is acting executioner and regional top ranking crucifier, has quite the fancy for Maggie." Maggie blushed. Jesus continued, "Quite selflessly, Maggie has agreed to tickle his fancy for the period of time necessary to complete the crucifixion. Quite conveniently, our own Bartholomew is still doing his community service work for cursing at Harold Stienberg, and is already slated to be working for the executioner tomorrow afternoon."
"After carrying the cross to the scene along with the other convicts and prior to me being secured to the cross, Maggie will use her diversions to distract the guard. The unsavory task of tying and nailing the convicts will be left to Bartholomew. Our volunteer will be at the scene wrapped carefully in a shroud, as not to draw attention to his lack of life. Which reminds me, I suspect our friend behind the shed is looking rather peaked at this point; we'll need some iodine to add a bit of color to his skin. I wouldn't want any illustrators drawing me too pale in the historical renditions. It shouldn't be difficult to pull the switch and thus allowing our volunteer to go through the remaining of the crucifixion procedure as if he were me."
"But Jesus," Peter fretted, "how is being crucified for petty thievery going to help your cause?"
"I'm glad you asked that Peter, as you, being the clever and effective salesmen that you are, are going to play a significant role in aftermath all of this." Jesus didn't need to remind him of his obligatory commitment to the project.
Peter was feeling immensely guilty to have caused all the commotion - yet also quite excited about being called clever and effective and was anxious to play a significant role in what was surely a significant plot.
"Here's the kicker." Jesus said as he poured another glass of wine and looked at the overturned card before him. "I will make a brief but potent reappearance, three days following my death, in order to amaze and stun my followers who require such antics to believe. After all is said and done, and the movement put in motion, I will disappear from this area forever and attend to work elsewhere, South America to be specific."
"This is kind've like when that storm was coming and you had us put the stumps in a row just below the surface of the water?" Asked Thaddaeus astutely.
"Yes, exactly that sort of thing. Occasionally, small miracles, real or imagined, are necessary to keep your audience's attention. It is a cumbersome but necessary component of founding a religious movement.
"Peter, following my shocking and untimely departure and subsequent awe inspiring encore appearance, you will go to the holy masses and describe in detail an account of great suffering and sacrifice. Tell them I was tried for heresy and murdered for my beliefs! That'll get em."
Maggie adjusted her diversions and tilted her head towards Jesus. "Remember, I will do my part of this only if you take me to South America and women get proper credit and respect in the history books."
"Of course." Jesus assured her.
"Of course." Peter said as he rolled his eyes and crossed his fingers.
"I don't think many will come to the actual grueling event, and those who do aren't likely to argue with your version of the story. I'll make sure there's plenty of wine on hand.
Once I'm "gone," Jesus made little quotation marks in the air. "Tell the empire that believing in my message is the only way to get a golden ticket to salvation. Sell it well, my good friend Peter, and you will become their leader. Jesus sometimes rhymed by accident but was by no means a poet.
Here, I have written down some specific language for you to use." Jesus handed Peter a several pages of hand written notes. "Feel free to embellish as you see fit. Just get the basic message out."
"You're just going to end up a forgotten bread thief and the rest of us are going to jail. No ones going to believe all this." said Thomas shaking his head.
"Yes they will." Said Peter.
"No they won't." Said Thomas. And that carried on for a short time.
"I think they will believe." Jesus took sides. "Haven't you seen the arks at the craft shows? Have faith. They will believe. They want to believe."
After working out some details, the friends disassembled.
Later that night, Maggie packed, Peter studied his notes, and right on schedule, Jesus left for the bakery.
Elsewhere, the dead man behind the shed waited patiently to play his part in history, which unfolded more or less as it was written.
User Reviews
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2005-10-27 10:21:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Horray for the elite 8!