Jesus came to Oklahoma once.
looked around…spit…said “how come you guys ain’t all punks? ya got more reason than most to be. ya got a few holes in the ground…a whole lotta dust…everything else is broke down and rusty. what a shithole!
“how can you say that?” we said.
“I can say anything I want to…I’m Jesus fuckin’ Christ!
“well, you’re sure not what we expected,” we said.
he said, “well, nor you…I. you’re not exactly messiah-class raw material, folks. sad…& sorry if that’s cold…but I got eyes…I can see, ya know.”
“well, aren’t ya gonna save us?”
“SAVE you? save you from what? hell, I’m back. I wanna have some fun! where’s the beach?
we said, “ ‘bout a 1000 miles from here. but hey, ain’t ya gonna teach us stuff? we thought you’d preach…”
“preach about what?” he interrupted.
“you know, about how to be better humans or something.”
“you don’t know that yet? man, I’ve been dead for almost 2000 years…I’ve got a whole lot of partying to catch up on. I want a cold beer…ya got any cold beer?…or is this one of those fuckin’ dry counties? look, what are you worried about? it’s summer and I, for one, am starved for it…I wanna get laid…I wanna eat guacamola…barbacue something…”
“too much cholesterol” we said.
“losers…” he said shaking his head in disgust.
“please,“ we begged, “impart some crumb of wisdom!”
“okay,” he said, “if low-rise jeans on a pretty girl ain’t enough proof that there is a god, I don’t know what else is.”
then he emptied the ashtray from his rent-a-wreck convertible onto our feet and drove off…giving us the finger over his shoulder.