Jesus Christ @ Nazareth – 21st Century
Jesus looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. “I look like shit,” he said, fully knowing why. The digital clock on the sink showed 09:38 and after a quick calculation, he figured he had only slept for a couple of hours. Alcohol and other various illegal substances were still bubbling in his bloodstream. No wonder he still felt good. The long hair of his was sticky; likely from the insane amount of beer he got thrown on him. Jesus couldn’t quite remember exactly how it had happened, but in his current state he didn’t care and decided to take a shower. He threw his clothes on the floor and entered the shower, which was already preheated. “Brilliant move, past me”, he whispered to himself as the warm water wrapped like a bathing cap around his sticky ponytail.
As the water forced its way through Jesus’s hair and hit his gangling body, he suddenly noticed that he hadn’t brought his phone with. Just like his oddly placed digital clock, he also had installed a waterproof speaker right above the showerhead. The problem now was that he was showering without any music to dance along to. Just complete silence, only the water hitting the tiles. He considered his options; he could either stay in the shower in silence for five more minutes, just enough time so he would manage to soap up and shampoo. He was already wet by now anyway and would not risk going back to his room to get his phone, where he earlier this morning had woken up next to someone he’d most definitely never seen before.
On a positive note, the absence of sound would result in a quicker shower-time. This missionary work he did at daytime didn’t exactly pay off big, so he would gladly do with a lower electric bill. Jesus was pretty sure he had gone through all the arguments on both sides for staying in the shower, and he then went over his other option, which was to go get his phone. It did not take him long before he reached a decision. He just couldn’t shower without music. He had been doing it every day, maybe two times a day, sometimes even three for as long as he could remember, and this was absolutely not the right day for breaking with that tradition. He had, after a few years on the waiting list, finally managed to book a spot down at the city’s main square, so he in his own words could; “Turn these heathens into righteous men”. What a bold fucking statement. Not even God’s own illegitimate son could pull that off.
Jesus hauled himself out of the shower, knit a towel around his waist and went towards the bedroom. Just as he opened the bathroom door he heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor. “Hello?” he asked, secretly hoping no one would answer.
“How are we doing today, Jesus?”
Fuck. He was usually good at recognizing voices, but this was one he hadn’t heard before. His footsteps closed in as he approached the kitchen. What met his eyes in the kitchen was a smartly dressed middle-aged man sitting by the table, looking down at the floor. He didn’t seem to care much that he had company. “I’m good, I guess.” Jesus felt like a stranger in his own home, like he was the one who had committed a breaking and entering. Still no reaction from the man. Jesus followed his gaze down to the floor, without really understanding what possibly could be so interesting down there, except for a pizza stain from yesterday. Maybe that was it. He turned his head nervously towards the bedroom, praying another stranger wouldn’t join the lousy conversation.
“There’s no one in your room, Jesus.” The man was able to read minds now. “Do we know each other?” Jesus asked.
The stranger looked up and gave a short laugh. “My name is Judas and I know every little, insignificant detail about you, man. I know what you desire, what you fear, your lusts, your demons and exactly what kind of women that make your heart skip a beat. In fact, I know every single part of your DNA. You, on the other hand, don’t even seem to recognize me. After all these years I can’t say I’m surprised anymore, though.”
“Years? What are you talking about?” Jesus wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer but asked anyway.
“Don’t you sometimes feel like you live on a loop? That you can’t tell the difference between one day from another?” the stranger wondered.
Jesus had always imagined himself as a tolerant person, but a fancy dressed burglar asking rhetorical questions couldn’t be anything other than a jerk. “Not really”, he mumbled. Judas took a calculated deep breath, rose to his feet and walked towards the front door. He opened it and let the fresh smell of detergent from the newly cleaned stairwell enter the apartment. Halfway out the door, it seemed like Judas suddenly changed his mind about leaving. He turned around and leaned against the doorframe, with his hands now planted cozy in his pockets.
“You’re delusional, my friend,” Judas stated. “All this talk about you being the Messiah. The savior. Wow, how can anyone feel so entitled?” Jesus felt the rage bubbling up as Judas continued, “That’s why we keep you in this place, trapped like an animal. You’re batshit insane for actually believing that you’re God’s son or messenger or whatever. We’re living in the 21st century; nobody needs to believe in that crap anymore.”
Jesus’ instincts wanted him to say something and stand up for himself, but the rage was now transformed into complete emptiness.
“I know there’s no point in saying since you won’t remember this conversation or, hell, even this day. I just like watching your reaction.” Jesus tightened his facial muscles, hoping not to give Judas the facial expression he hoped for, although he couldn’t have any chance of knowing what that specific face looked like. “You’ve been trapped inside this apartment for exactly 8 years now and I’ve checked in on you every single day. I guess that’s the price you pay for opposing the state and trying to mislead humanity. Poor bastard.” Judas looked at Jesus and shook his head in pity before turning around and exiting the room. Jesus’ head was a bag of bricks after receiving this mind-boggling reality-check and decided he needed to lay down on the sofa. He followed the order and fell asleep in an instant.
The next day Jesus was feeling fantastic as he went out of the shower. This was a big day for him. He walked towards his bedroom when he heard an unknown voice from the kitchen: “How are we doing today, Jesus?”