|#NO FILTER #YOLO #JK #LOL|
If Jesus came back today, he’d probably wind up working at Walmart.
In this economy, and with his sketchy work history and lack of formal education, the King of Kings would almost certainly have to settle for minimum wage. Let’s face it, healing lepers isn't exactly a marketable skill these days; besides, there’s no reason those whiny fuckers can’t get off their blotchy asses and get a full time job with health insurance like everyone else. Whether by Medicaid or Son of God, free healthcare creates a false sense of entitlement and that shit is everything that’s wrong with America. Well, that and the gays. Luckily Jesus’s healthy affinity for hookers would at least keep him from being accused of that heinous crime against Capitalism, despite his secretive, all-male dinner parties.
Those sanctimonious sausagefests would be short-lived anyway, as once our Heavenly Host got a few glasses of wine in him he would become belligerent: righteously proclaiming his dad is better than everyone else’s, and calling for toasts celebrating that the guests were unwittingly participating in cannibalism.
Jesus’s divine parlor trick with the eternal loaf of bread would be a hit with pigeons the world over, but anyone with any sense is trying to watch their carbs these days. And that water into wine thing is neat and all, but the world is running out of fresh water fast and oldboy’s over there turning perfectly good Aquafina into fucking Boone’s Farm.
Quickly becoming a social outcast, Jesus would probably turn to the holier-than-thou hobby of trolling the internet, shamelessly smiting blasphemers in comment sections on every corner of the World Wide Web.
The Beloved would thrive, however, as a greeter in the godforsaken entryway of the local Walmart, where he’d be stationed in an exploitative P.R. stunt by the almighty acne-stricken assistant manager. Despite the toothless gawks as he waves his holey hand to entering and exiting guests, he would be revered for his kind demeanor; though he would suffer a write-up or two to appease a few creeped out customers, to whom he’d profess his unending love as they shamble to the Dorito’s aisle.
While Jesus met his doom during his first go-round with mankind on Good Friday, his demise in the 21st century would come on the most sacred and cherished of modern days: Black Friday.
In a futile attempt to bring peace and goodwill to the Superstore, the Savior would be trampled to death by crusading shoppers, who rejected his Word that there were enough bargained-priced Keurigs for everyone. The fallen Messiah would be martyrized by Fox News as another casualty of the War on Christmas. Walmart would issue a statement that the company was devastated by the Divine Son’s death, and in tribute they would Rollback prices on both Bibles and flat screen LCD TV’s.
And on Cyber Monday the heavens would open wide, and the middle finger of God would extend to all the Earth, and the whole of humanity would be damned; for a demon spawn would spew forth from the cooch of a Kardashian, dooming the world to an eternity of reality TV meltdowns, anal bleaching, and gluten-free pizza crusts.
Amen, and shit.