J. C. Jones III - A Surprise Guest

“Maybe we should go video,” said J. C.

“No visuals on this show, boss,” said Marty. “Your mellifluous tone is all we need. Besides, they’d pick your wardrobe to shreds. His tunic’s too drab. Sandals? Really? And that crown? Get over it already. Get a ball cap like a normal American.”

“You do know I’m not an American citizen? I’m still Jesus of Nazareth.”

“I know, J. C., but think of the ad campaign: C’mon aboard, world! Even Jesus Wants to Be an American! What say I get you a swell cap with a thorny crown logo and plant a J. C. in the middle. Snappy, I’d say.”

“How’d you like me to snap your butt to the fire down below?” said J. C.

“It was only a suggestion, J. C. Don’t go Old Testament on me. Remember, you’re the Prince of Peace.”

“I’m kidding, Marty. There is no fire down below. And I’m only a simple tourist on a journey to get a taste of the world; so lay off the wardrobe. The tunic is me. It’s simple: no buttons, no zippers, no velcro. Slip on, slip off. Done. Why do people make life so complicated?”

“Got it, boss. No cap.”

“Let us invite phone calls from the people of this hearty stew of a metropolis they call Manhattan. I’ll ask each and every soul one simple question: What is it you want?”

“That’s a loaded question, J. C. All I can say is you’d better bring plenty of paper, because there’s gonna be a long list, and you ain’t Santa Claus.”

“Who is this Santa Claus you speak of?”

“He’s the new you; only not so depressing. They suited him up and slapped on a beard and a merry smile. Then he flies around the world on your birthday, giving the people what they selected from their favorite catalogs.”

“Ah, more blessed to give than to receive. That was one of mine. Does he have disciples?”

“He has elves, J. C. They’re Santa’s little helpers.”

“I’d watch my back if I was him.”

***

“You couldn’t wait till December?” said Santa. “I’m useless during allergy season. And how’d I get here? One day I’m hibernating in bed with Mrs. Claus, and the next thing I know I’m all teary eyed with Jesus. You know, you don’t look anything like your pictures. I expected you’d be more . . . ya know.” 

“White?”

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth. Santa loves all.”

“You’ve gotta stop stealing my stuff. I’m only surprised you’re not riding around the world on my birthday driving a team of donkeys named Matthew, Luke , Mark, and Paul.”

“I did the research. It would have limited my appeal. Atheists would have balked.”

“Let ‘ol brown eyes here ask you a question: why not spread the word of God instead of spreading the wares of the toy makers? When I said it’s better to give then to receive, I was thinking a hug, some fish, and a nice sack of figs.”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you isn’t. Everybody loves Jesus. But what about me? When these kids reach a certain age they stop believing, and I get hung out to dry with the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. It’s an emotional roller coaster!”

“Whiner,” said J. C., “You’re talking to the King of Hung Out to Dry!”

“Oh, boo hoo, yourself,” said Santa. “It’s easy for you. They come to you every Sunday. Me? Once a year. Oh, and the complaints if I don’t get it right!”

“You don’t think I get complaints, tubby?”

“Who you calling tubby, you old sack of bones!”

“Marty, get him out of here before I lose my cool and create a hell for him to burn in!”

“Fellas,” said Marty, “keep it going! I think we got ourselves a show!”