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Jesus

Jesus

So I’m told that Christianity is all about worshipping God and his immaculately conceived son, Jesus, who is also God. They love Jesus, because he was a good bloke, who managed to feed like a million people with a single fish or a some shit. So they love him because he was a voice for the voiceless.

But they also love it when he gets tortured. I heard all about the crucifix and and the nails through the hands – I’ve seen such handywork in OSW, too, of course, led by the Vayikra boys. But this astounded me when I first heard. They love Jesus, but they also love the crucifix, which was how he was tortured and killed.

Fucking insane man.

But the really cool thing is that Jesus came back to life. He died on what they like to call Good Friday, and was buried in a cave, because the Roman’s didn’t want anyone to be able to see his dead body or something. And then on the Sunday his body was gone – fucking just gone! Later that day Jesus was seen walking around like nothing had even happened. Back from the dead like a regular living zombie.

I guess you could call me Jesus 2.0 if you fucking want. I came back from the dead too, even if it took me a bit longer than the two days it took the big JC. The books all say that when Jesus died and came back to life, he took the sting out of death and brought light only to life and immortality. So let me shine a light on something for you, Renault. The only thing I’m certain of is that love will always outlive hate. Hatred is rash and impulsive, but love is thoughtful and considerate. And if I can shine a light on one immortal thing, its the immortality of love. The power of caring.

So let me show you some real love and fucking attention, Renault. Your boys and my boys are banned from ringside, so I’ve got all the time in the world to focus on you, and only you. You can complain about your day, and I’ll laugh at your jokes, and maybe we’ll grab a meal. I’ll cook if I can be fucked or otherwise maybe we’ll grab an Uber Eats. And then I’ll slam your head through a metal structure again and again and again and make you wish you’d never picked a fight with The Rainbow Party.

Because you can’t dim our colours no matter how much you fucking try. So smother me all you like, I’ll just keep coming back from the dead to haunt you over and over. I’ll shove enough fish down your throat to feed a small army, and they’ll call me a miracle worker too.

And just like the Christians and their cross, there’ll be a new religion of hope and love, and they will wear fucking nooses around their necks to remind them of the pain and suffering their fucking saviour survived just for them.

But you won’t survive me. The noose for you is permanent.