Concussion Protocol
Copyright© 2021 by Kim Cancer
Dispatch From the Afterlife: Jesus Finally Breaks His Silence!
Jesus:
I’m so tired of people talking to me. And wearing crosses. Don’t they know what happened to me on that thing?
Don’t people understand that I’m a Jew? I even talk like Woody Allen. Really, I do. Every dead Jew eventually does.
I wish people would stop bothering me. Like it wasn’t bad enough that I got crucified? Now I have to hear from all these schmucks? Have you ever been crucified? It’s the worst! The worst!
Nailed to a piece of wood, left out to die in the desert ... Then, to add insult to injury, I have to hear these complaints and prayers every day...
Knock it off already! Leave me alone ... Your thoughts and prayers, yeesh...
Like crucifixion wasn’t painful enough, with the nails being hammered into my hands and feet. The pain was unbearable!
To further illustrate, think of it like this, have you ever gotten a splinter? It hurts, right? Now imagine, instead, a big metal nail driven, purposely, forcefully, through your skin. Does that sound fun? Does that make you want to wear a crucifix? Huh? And it’s a fashion statement to people? Oy vey! Quit wearing those things on your necklaces! Have some respect, would you!
But ... that crucifixion ... even worse than the pain ... was the waiting ... The waiting to die. That was insufferable. That was the torture. That and the obnoxious people strolling by, throwing rocks and food at me. Like it isn’t bad enough, I’m up here, nailed to a wooden stake! Now you throw an apple at me! An apple? Really? The nerve of you people!
It was humiliating!
I felt like such a disappointment to my followers too. This wasn’t how I was supposed to go out! I thought God was my Father and everything and He leaves me out there to rot on a stick! A stick?! Come on!
Ah, it was terrible up there. I was naked! Naked as my birthday! That’s right! There was no loincloth, like in the paintings. I was naked! And my skin was sizzling in the hot, dry desert sun. I was burning, roasting up there ... And I was thirsty as anything, my mouth parched, full of sand. And what do the Romans give me? They bring me vinegar to drink! Vinegar! The audacity!
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