Jesus Needs a Three Day Weekend

This is inspirational. Hear me out.

“LISTEN!”

“Okay, okay-”

The poor man I pulled off the street looks at me in horror as I try to explain my story as quickly as possible.

“Satan is coming to get me, and here's how it all started,”

The man frowns. “Why are you telling me this-”

“JUST LISTEN!”

I take a deep breath in and lightning cracks like a loud whip above me. 

“I was standing in the pumpkin patch, down the street. Have you ever been there?”

“Uh, yeah. My brother loves to go there during Halloween,” he says with a small smile. He must be close with his brother but that’s the least of my worries right now.

“Well as I was standing there, a woman came up to me and started yelling that she didn't believe in God, but she believed in Santa.” I pull him out of the hailstorm that just began. “I told her that ‘Santa’ and ‘Satan’ have all the same letters in the words, and I’m pretty sure I ruined her life.”

A car speeds by almost hitting me. God I don't have time for this.

“Her grandmother came up to me, because I had made the woman cry, and she said I needed to talk to Jesus, and get my priorities straight,”

“Are you on drugs?” the man asks me, shivering. He holds his briefcase even tighter, and I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he has something of importance in it.

“No,” I scowl. “Anyways, she hit me in the back of the head with a pumpkin that she had picked from the patch, which really hurt.”

“Who?”

“The grandmother! Aren't you listening?” I regroup. “So I passed out cold from the impact to my freaking head, and I thought I was having hallucinations, but it turns out, I went to heaven for 8 minutes.”

“You mean seven?”

“No, I mean eight. And don’t interrupt me anymore or else something bad will really happen. I’m trying to stay alive right now.”

The man sighs, and takes a seat on the bench to the right of us.

“So eight minutes. When I got there, the sky was pink instead of blue, and the clouds were yellow! So I went to the gates, which apparently your not supposed to go to, because that’s where Jesus sleeps!”

“Note to self, don't do drugs,” the man mutters and I growl at him.

“I entered the gates, where Jesus sleeps, and his receptionist wasn't there. There was a sign on the desk saying “Be Back in One Earth Rotation” which confused me because I thought I was still on earth.”

“What else?” the man asks.

“I walked farther into the gated place, and found Jesus nude in his bed, SLEEPING! When I woke him up he said that he was on Spring Break from letting people enter Heaven, and that Satan was taking all the people for now,”

“Dude, why are you talking to me about all of this?” the man whines, setting his briefcase on the bench. “I want to get to my car, and go home,”

“I’m almost done,” I say, looking nervously at the sky. “So, I told him that I had just got there, and he yelled about how he was tired, and didn’t get enough sleep, or three day weekends. He said that his dad was really strict, and that he was trying to stop Googling of “how did Adam wear his leaf”, so his dad didn't have any time to deal with the overflow of good people coming to Heaven. Jesus told Satan and now Satan is trying to get me.

“MIKE!” A voice screams.

“Anyways, Mike,” I say to the man, calling him by my name. “I have to go,”

“I’m not-”

“Shhh,” I put my finger to his lips. “It won’t be long now,”

“Why did you tell me that story?” he asks, weirded out.

“So that Satan thought you were me and left me here,”

I start to run and the man erupts in a ball of blood, letting me know that Satan has chosen him instead of me.