Me And The Boys Waiting To Get Tickets For Barbie On Opening Day

me and the boys waiting to get tickets for Barbie on opening day

I made a small edit that better fits the vibe of El*n's Twitter.

"Uh, " I stammer as my gaze quickly jumps back to the small crowd on my doorstep. "I knew a guy named Jesus a while back that could make the Hell out of some tamales. Never met a hard-J Jesus, though."

One of the younger ones held back a laugh. Poorly, sure, but the attempt was there. The older one out front shot him a look that cut the boy off mid-snort and then turned back to me.

"That's... not quite what I meant," the elder continued. "What I mean to say is... have you invited him in?" I huffed out a breath and tried my best to look like one-third of the Holy Trinity wasn't hiding behind my half-opened door.

"In what," I asked. "My heart? No, I can't say that I have. Thought about it when I was real young. Paradise sounds good before you learn about all hoops you have to jump through just so you won't get tortured for eternity. Wasn't really a fan of the rampant homophobia and child abuse, either, if I'm being honest."

I saw Jesus wince out of my peripheral. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little proud of that.

"Now," I added before the old man could elaborate any further, "if you'll excuse me, I've got an assortment of sins I'd like to commit in the privacy of my own home. Good evening, gentlemen."

I swung the door closed and just stood there, waiting. After an amount of time that can only be described as deeply unsettling, I finally heard the sounds of them turning and walking away. I let out a sigh and turned to the Christ, my brow furrowed. With the way He had his hands steepled in front of him, there was no mistaking the matching scars on both hands.

"Thank you, my Chil-"

"Cut the shit," I said, turning away from the literal Son of God and making my way deeper into the apartment. "I ain't nobody's child, least of all yours." He nodded.

"Fair enough," He said softly, following me as I walked.

"What brings you here anyway, " I asked. "Finally decide to come do something about all the hateful things folks are doing in your name?"

Another wince. I was on a roll.

"I'm here to stop the End of Days," He said, His voice a little firmer now. "And I think you're the only one who can help me."

You open your door to find some religious looking people standing there. “Have you found our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?” You glance behind your door, where Jesus is shushing you.

POV: you're me having just finished the Barbie trailer

Writing Prompt #1

Person A: Stop it, guys. I hate it when mommy and daddy fight. Person B: I don't. Two Christmases are almost worth the price of therapy.