Trading Places
by I traded places with God the other day ….
“Oh that. Well… uh…uh…” Jesus stammers.
“Well what!”
“Well, it’s not that bad.” Jesus says.
“Bad? Not Bad? It’s a mess! It’s a disaster!”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Jesus states.
“You let a bunch of Romans nail you up for that?” God inquired.
“It’s not like what you think.”
“Not like I think? Then tell me, what in tar-nation is going on down there? What’s wrong with them?” God demanded.
“Well Dad, it’s…well you see… they’re stupid.” Jesus explained.
“Stupid? Stupid? They’re idiots!” God yells.
“Well, they’ve got their good points.” Jesus defends us.
“Yeah? What are they? Give few a few.” God raps his desk with a pencil.
“Well… they’re kind of smart.”
“You just said they were stupid.”
“They’ve got their moments. I mean, it was no small thing to make fuel for all those factories and cars from a bunch of dead animals.” God stares at him through squinted eyes, rapping his desk, steam rising from his halo. “And they’ve come along way with they’re technology. Yeah, that’s it.” Jesus said. “You know, radio, TV. factories, cars, computers, bombs…”
“BAM!” God slams his fist on his desk and stands. “That’s it! Mary on a sidecar! I ought to nuke the whole lot of them!” he yells.
“Now Dad,” Jesus pleas, “don’t do anything rash!” God sat back down and leaned back sighing.
“Oh Hell…” he says, “Guess you’re right. No since in destroying all my hard work, besides if I give them enough slack they’ll just hang themselves.”
“That right. That’s the spirit Dad.” Jesus says.
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