Jesus polished off his jelly doughnut and took a swig of Celtic Grog to wash it down.
His taste buds tingling, he couldn’t help sinking back down into the cozy comfort of his king-sized bed.
Deciding that maybe he’d go back to sleep for a smidge, he picked up his phone and clicked the Facebook app to check up on the morning’s posts before he did.
He scrolled through the typical stuff:
Mary, his mom, posting private messages for him on her page because she still had no concept how to use messenger and she probably never would…
Jesus clicked the heart button anyway.
Noah posting pictures of his cats AGAIN…
Jesus clicked the heart button.
Satan’s 50+ pictures of himself shredding on his guitar last weekend at some suburban bar…
Again, Jesus clicked the heart button.
And then, the Methodist church bragging that they had bolstered their bans on same-sex marriage and allowing the LGBT community to become pastors.
Jesus read that one again. Then he read some comments from people praising the decisions.
“Those people are so stupid,” he thought to himself.
He sat up and took another sip of coffee and reached for a Kool and his lighter.
Blowing the first inhalation out and feeling his muscles relax a little, he opened his messenger and tapped his dad’s profile pic.
“I see the Methodists are taking a giant leap towards destroying their church for good,” he typed. “I know it’s all part of your Master Plan for the human race, but damn if it isn’t tough to watch unfold sometimes.”
He hit send.
Taking another drag of his smoke, he kept scrolling to try and cleanse his mind a little.
“Oh god yes,” he thought to himself as he came upon the clip of Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga singing Shallow at the Academy Awards. He, like everybody else not living under a rock, had already watched this 1000 times, but it was so delicious. He loved it. And holy hell, that smoking hot ending when Jack and Ally cuddle on the piano bench and stare into each other’s eyes?
Jesus couldn’t help himself.
He hit the heart button once again.
He knew, just like all good people do, that hitting the heart button as often as you can

is always the better choice.

facebook_love_button

God steered the big old noisy beat up Ford pickup truck in a half circle and then backed it up in the clearing near where the fire pit and tents were set up.

Suddenly, 13 young boys wearing nothing but cut off jean shorts came running out of the woods like a pack of wild baboons.

“Dad!” yelled the one in front who was clearly the ringleader of the bunch. “Guys! He’s here, come on!!”

God smiled. Them young ones were a rowdy bunch, but his son and his best buddies were the forbidden apples of the old man’s eye.

They all congregated around the man climbing out of his truck.

“Did ya get ’em?!” his son asked.

God rumpled the kid’s long stringy hair.

All the other boys looked up at him eagerly, their faces filthy from playing in the forest.

“Of course I got ’em. I’m God, aren’t I?”

All the boys jumped up and down and cheered.

The crew walked to the back of the truck and God opened the tailgate.

Inside the truck was a mother lode of pyrotechnics that he had just purchased at the store next to the Kwik-Pak where he got his weekly case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

“Wooooaaaahhhh,” all the boys said as the Creator of the Universe crawled up into the truck. He pulled his long grey hair into a ponytail then wrapped a threadbare bandana around his head. Then he began to unload the booty.

The boys crowded around buzzing with excitement. They watched the man set up all the explosives carefully. At one point, he looked up and smiled and said:

“This is gonna give them people on Earth quite the thunderboomer.”

“Yeh!!” the boys all agreed.

“Thanks, dad,” the ringleader boy said.

“Well, now…you’re welcome, Jesus,” the old man replied trying not to get misty. Then he advised all the younguns to get on out of the way.

And for the next several hours God set off all the fireworks much to his and the boys’ delight and to the dismay of thousands of children and dogs living in the Ohio Valley region.

When the big sound and light show slowed to an end, God passed out crackling Sparklers to the pack of wild hyena boys who ran like streaks of lightning through the field.

God opened a cold one and sat on the edge of the bed of his truck and watched with a gleam in his eye.

Suddenly the Goddess was by his side with a big picnic basket full of fixins to make S’mores. She put it down when God handed her a beer.

They watched the boys running and screaming with more energy than 10 super cell thunderstorms.

“Those boys are gonna crash and burn so damn hard,” she said.

Then she and God laughed before sucking down the rest of their brews on that Heavenly stormy night.