OK, You Kids Can Stop Sending Me Viruses Now ...

... I'm on to you. You can stop messing with my shit and go back to hosing down tram cars in whatever Eastern European backwater you call your homeland. Despite what my mother says, I'm not an imbicile (the incident with the cop and the Buick full of M80s not withstanding). I know the files you've been e-mailing me, from such faux-compelling e-mail addresses as "customeralart [sic]@ebbay.com" and "bkstgepasses@yahoo.com," contain bad mojo. And you can save your textual come-ons for your jaundaced, semi-literate friends. I won't fall for "here's your file" or "click on the document below" or "check out these photos of Mother Theresa sucking off the 1978 Toronto Blue Jays" (at least not again). How would you like it if I came up to your drab, concrete-slab flat and burned your Dido and Iron Maiden posters and threw Borscht and boiled cabbage around your room? No so much, I'd imagine. Stick that in the pocket of your Kappa Sport hoodie, bitch.

Cripes Alrighty: “The Passion” as Seen by Pixar Studios


INT. CHILD’s BEDROOM, MORNING

BARBIE awakens; she rubs her doll eyes then yawns, stretching her arms skyward. As her eyes focus, she squints at a beam of light coming from up on the WALL. The light is emanating from JESUS, who hangs on the WALL spanning a plastic cross, his arms outstretched in the classic pose of the crucifixion. The light gets brighter and brighter, and BARBIE’s eyes widen in shock and disbelief. JESUS begins to careen from side to side, finally coming unhooked from the WALL and descending as if riding the beam of light down to the floor. He comes to rest, cross and all, next to the DOLLHOUSE, where BARBIE is now on her feet wondering what to do or say next.

JESUS
Grrrrreeetings, blondie. What’s the good word?

BARBIE
Uh, I …

JESUS
Whatsammata? Cat’s got yer tongue?

BARBIE
No, It's just that... You can talk?

JESUS
Of course, kid. You know, sermon on the Mount, the Gospels?

BARBIE
Ummm. I think so.

JESUS
Aaah, what's the use. Blonds!

(hops up and down)

Oy, it’s good to be back on the ground. The kid’s parents meant well putting me up there and all, but did anyone bother to ask if I might be afraid of heights? Nope. Nyet. Negatiory. They never do. Just hang the guy on the cross up on the wall and leave him there. Nice view, but c’mon. Not a whole heck of a lot to do up on a wall, if you catch my drift.

BARBIE
(to herself)
Drift?

JESUS
Humph. That’s Catholics for ya. Anyhoo, allow me to introduce myself. I am Jesus of Nazareth; my friends call me Jeez. And you?

BARBIE
It’s Barbie.

JESUS
Barbie, huh? You from LA?

BARBIE
I’m from the Toy Box.

JESUS
I see. So can you help a brother out? Know where there’s a tool kit in this place? I could really use a crowbar.

BARBIE
You have great abs.

Search and Ye Shall Farm

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