By Saren
::Saren is sitting in her room with O'Riley listening to Ralph Agresta try to explain chords and progressions when the doorbell rings::
Jesus- Saren?
Saren- Rod Munch? ::stares at strange man standing on her door step holding a brief case:: What do you want now? I already gave you your money.
Jesus- I don’t want your worthless money. Are you Saren?
Saren- I must be.
Jesus- Enough with the Daltrey-like antics. Are you Saren or aren’t you?
Saren- Yeah. What’s it to you, Munch?
Jesus- What? No, I’m Jesus. It’s pronounced Hay-zeus, by the way. I’m not the blessed redeemer. ::takes out a paper from a brief case, and clearing his throat, recites it's written contents:: I, Jesus, am a representative for the estate of the deceased, your father. Congratulations! You have received an inheritance of five, count it, five thousand dollars!
Saren- My what?
Jesus- Come with me. ::grabs Saren, shoves her in the car and speeds off::
Saren- So, when do I get this alleged five grand?
Jesus- ::Pulls up to the office:: Right now! It's simple. All we need you to do is identify your father's rotting corpse and the money is yours for the taking!
Saren- But I...
Jesus- You DO know who your father is, don't you?
Saren- Well…
Jesus- You aren't some sort of pathetic, illegitimate child who never got to meet her dad, are you?
Saren- You don't know me.
Jesus- And you don't know your father!
Saren- ::Bows head in shame::
Jesus- I guess we'll just have to donate this 5 thousand to an orphanage or something.
Saren- NO! No, I need it! I’ve got no dad, right? I’m underprivileged and illegitimate! I need the money! I’m too illegit to quit!
Jesus- Well then, who is this man? ::pulls back sheet to reveal a rotting corpse on the table::
Saren- …ew.
Jesus- Well, is this him or isn’t it?
Saren- Yeah! Yeah, that’s my father.
Jesus- You don’t seem too upset.
Saren- Am I supposed to be?
Jesus- Well, it is your father.
Saren- Yes… it is, evidently.
Jesus- Usually, people are upset when their family and loved ones perish. Ever wondered why people cry at funerals?
Saren- Not really. I’m more curious as to why people cry at weddings.
Jesus- Weddings are expensive. It’s depressing. Now, get on with it.
Saren- On with what?
Jesus- Your father… dead on the table… show some emotion, girl!
Saren- ::Pretends to cry:: Oh, daddy, I’m going to… miss you.
Jesus- That’s more like it.
Saren- ::Stabs a pen into her thigh and her eyes well up with tears of pain:: Why did you have to die, father? Why not me?
Jesus- Alright, alright… good enough. Here’s the money. Take it and leave.
Saren- Yoink! ::grabs the check and runs for the door:: Sucker!
Jesus- But, I didn’t sign it yet.
Saren- Right… well, hurry up, Munch. I haven’t got all day. You should use a Visa… it’s quicker.
Jesus- ::Makes out the check::
Saren- Out of curiosity, who was my dad anyways.
Jesus- I’m not at liberty to disclose that information. Besides, you already know. You see him every day at school.
Saren- The Gremlin? That mathematical old wheeze bag?! Oh no. It’s not Sexton, is it? That divorced, balding guy who’s going to die alone in that house he bought for himself?
Jesus- Sure, sure… either one of them will do. Why are you still here, anyways? You’ve got the money. Just go.
The End