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                                      THE MIRACLE OF THE INVISIBLE JESUS

                                     An excerpt from That's Why Vampires Suck

                                                                            by

                                                                    Mars Cronin


Talking head: “And finally tonight we bring you the story we’ve teased you with all hour in order to keep you from changing the channel. As you’ve no doubt heard by now, a miracle has taken place over at the local Queer’s Nose sub shop and...” Cups hand over ear. “My producer tells me it’s Quizno’s sub shop. Heh, heh. Mort the teleprompter guy got me good there. That’s one for you, Mort.” Notches score on imaginary scorecard. “Of course, since I’ve banged your wife at least a hundred times, I guess I’m still way ahead. Booya!


“So anyway, this miracle at Quizno’s. It’s causing a real broohaha over there. And for those of you not suitably impressed, a broohaha is worth a ruckus, two donnybrooks and a melee to be named later. Crowds of the faithful are lining up to get a glimpse of what some are calling the most amazing manifestation of God’s love since he drowned everyone in the flood. Others are saying it’s no different than the time an image of the Virgin Mary appeared on an erotic birthday cake. Which, as we later learned, was just a re-hash of the infamous Jesus-on-a-grilled-cheese-sandwich incident. In other words, ‘You say potato, I say it’s a root vegetable.’ For more on this fascinating story we go live to our man on the street Ima Dickwad. Heh, heh. Good one, Mort. Not as good as your wife last night, but still. Let’s switch over now to reporter Ivan Ditnibs live at the Quizno’s on My Dick’s Tiny Street. Alright, Mort. That’s about enough...”


Ivan: “Thanks, Ted. I’m down here observing and reporting on something we don’t get enough of in this world; a real miracle. I have here with me the owner of this Quizno’s Mr. Cory Pump. I’m going to let him explain to our viewers just what’s going on down here.”


Mr. Pump: “Down here on My Destiny Street, Ivan. Let’s make sure we get that in.”


“Well, of course, Mr. Pump.”


“Just wanna make sure is all. That tiny dick comment, while it may be true, is liable to confuse some people. The Quizno’s at 666 My Destiny Street is where we are.”


“That’s right. Now, Mr. Pump wy don’t you tell us in your own words why all these people are here.”


“They came to see the invisible Jesus, is what they’re doing. That and to buy a delicious Quizno’s sandwich. No free rides, folks. Ya wanna witness a miracle, ya gotta pay. And it’s a small price to be a part of history, I gotta tell ya.”


“And what will they see, Mr. Pump? That seems to be the crux of the issue here.”


“I just told you. The invisible jesus that appeared as if from nowheres the other day as I was washin’ my windows.”


“And tell us that story, would you, sir?”


“Well there I wuz, washin’ my own windows, cause business wuz down, you know wit the recession and all. Prayin’ for some help, you know cause I got bills to pay. So I’m wipin’ down the windows and what do I see? The miracle I wuz prayin’ for.”


“And that was?”


“The invisible Jesus, of course. Jeezuz pay attention. Whad am I talkin’ outta my ass? I saw the invisible image of our lord and savior right there on my window. Miraculous, is what it is”


“And controversial too.”


“In what way?”


"Well, you know. Invisible Jesus? Invisible? Some people are saying this is no more than a cheap publicity stunt. That--“


“Yeah? An’ just who are dose people? Heathens? Pagans? Atheists? Are ya gonna believe dem godless terrorists who hate us for our freedom? Or ya gonna put your faith in these crowds of faithful, hard working people lined up here to buy a nutritious submarine sandwich while at the same time experiencing some-thing sublime and holy? Sumpin’ that might get ya into heaven, for Chrissakes. You think it ain’t worth a sandwich to get into heaven?”


“Well, it’s not really my place to comment on that. I’m just here to report. Why don’t we talk with one of the people who are leaving.” Gestures towards man exiting the store. “You, sir. Would you--“


Mr. Pump grabbing microphone. “One of the people leaving with a scrumptious Quizno’s sub, you mean. Don’t forget that part.”


Reporter grabbing mic back. “I couldn’t if I tried, Mr. Pump. Now let’s talk with this gentleman. What’s your name, sir and just what did you see?”


“Uh, hello. My name is John Doe.”


“That’s fine, sir if you don’t want to tell us your real name. Just tell us--“


“That is my real name. Don’t worry about it though. I get that all the time. Especially when the police pull me over for questioning, which happens quite often. The price I pay for looking like a terrorist. I’m not, of course. I’m a devout Transactionist. I just like these little hats the terrorists wear.”


“The Kufi, you mean? The Muslim skullcap?”


“Yeah. I know it makes me look like a suicide bomber, but I like it. Anyway, you want to know what I saw in the sub shop? I saw a miracle, sir. A miracle. Nothing more, nothing less.”


“But what did you actually see, Mr. Doe? Our viewers want to know what it is that you actually saw.”


“The invisible Jesus, of course. Clear as day.”


“But if it’s invisible, how did you see it?”


“Are you questioning my faith? How dare you? This is America, Mr. Bigshot Reporter. We don’t question another person’s beliefs unless they worship the wrong God. Then, of course, it’s our duty to save them from eternal suffering at the hands of a loving God.”


“I’m not questioning your faith, sir. I’m just trying to establish for our viewers how you can see something that’s invisible. How--“


Mr. Pump grabs mic again. “Well you can’t see it on TV. You have to come down here to the Quizno’s at 666 My Destiny Street and order a sub sandwich with your choice of drink for only--“


The mic is ripped from Mr. Pump’s hand. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Pump. I think they know where we are by now. Mr. Doe can you tell us what you actually, really saw with your own eyes? Please, sir if you will.”


“I saw the window, Mr. Unbeliever, where Mr. Pump said he saw the invisible image of the Son of God. Is that clear enough for you, Mr. Condemned to Hell?”


“But you didn’t actually see the image of Jesus, did you?”


“Of course not, dopey. It’s invisible. What part of invisible Jesus don’t you understand?”


“So why are you here then? Why--“


“There you go questioning my faith again. What country are you from anyways? What kind of name is Ditnibs? Sounds Arabistani to me. Anti-American, whatever it is. Maybe you ought to--“


“Well there you have it, Ted. I guess it all comes down to a question of faith. Some people can see and others can only look. This is Ivan Ditnibs live at Quizno’s--“


“The Quizno’s at 666--“


“They’ve got it, Mr. Pump. Back to you at the studio, Ted.”


Ted the Talking Head: “Thank you, Ivan. That’s quite a story. A story about this wonderful country of ours. A country where you can worship at any church or temple that you wish. You can even go to a mosque if you don’t mind getting strip-searched every time you board a plane. I’m going to go off script here, even though I’m reading this from the teleprompter. What I’d like to say is that despite all our flaws and foibles. despite a political system so filled with argumentative discourse it often resembles the Jerry Springer Show, despite an economy so down in the dumps you can smell the rotting carcasses, despite all that, I am still a weeny-dicked wiener-head who can’t get it up. Dammit, Mort; now you’ve gone too far.”


And that’s why you can’t let a cuckold run the teleprompter.

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