Sunday, March 23, 2008

Jesus And The Magic Beans

Hey, kids, it's just in time for an Easter-themed dreadful reimagining!

So, pull up a chair, crack open a beer, and read all about Jesus and the Magic Beans!

Jesus had stopped counting the days of his wandering long ago. It was long enough ago that he had nearly forgotten when he had stopped counting.

As he walked down a muddy road, he saw a boy pulling a cow on a rope. The boy looked hungry and angry. The cow looked hungry and sick. The cow's eyes were glazed over and its legs were covered in sores. Jesus's heart swelled up with feeling as the boy neared him. The boy tripped forward. The cow had suddenly halted.

With a growl the boy went behind the cow and kicked it severely in its hind legs. The cow gave out a faint moan and started walking again.

"Boy," Jesus said, "Your cow looks very sick. And you look hungry. I would like to help you."

The boy glared at him. Jesus reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of beans. "These are magic beans. Please, take them and plant one in the ground. One bean will feed a family for an entire year. I will take your cow in exchange."

The boy looked at Jesus and looked at his cow. He put out his hand. Jesus placed the beans in the boy's palm. The boy dropped the cow's rope, turned and silently walked away.

Jesus picked up the rope. "Come, gentle creature." The cow followed Jesus.


In the light of the moon, Jesus dipped strips of his robes into the lake water. A small pile of hay lay next to him. The cow slowly bent its head down and nibbled at the hay as Jesus gently cleansed its leg wounds with water.

Jesus abruptly looked up, distracted by a low, deep rumble. In the faint glow of the moon, he saw an enormous beanstalk shooting up into the sky.

"No," Jesus said.

The cow mooed sadly. "It will be alright. Sleep, gentle creature."


The next morning, Jesus and the cow walked in the direction of the large beanstalk. They approached a humble cottage which rested right near the enormous plant.

Jesus rapped lightly on the door.

A rundown woman yanked open the door. She sneered at Jesus. "What do you want?"

The boy poked his head around her. "Mom, it's the man who gave me the beans!"

"Alright," the boy's mother said. "You can come in for a bit. But get that worthless sack of dung away from our house first. He's your problem now, not ours."

Jesus spoke softly to the cow, patted its head, then stepped inside.

"Boy, did you not plant the beans as I told you?"

"My mum threw them all out the window when I told her how I got them. But I showed her! Look what I got!"

The boy yanked on a rope, which strangely enough produced a loud honk. A beautiful white goose came into view from around the corner, a rope tightly around his neck.

"Watch this!" said the boy. He turned to the goose. "Lay!" he shouted. The goose's eyes were wild with fear. "LAY!" the boy shouted.

The goose started honking excitedly. The boy kicked the goose square in the chest. "LAY!!" he screamed. A golden egg fell out of the goose's rear end.

"Boy," Jesus asked, "where did you get this goose?" But Jesus knew where the goose had come from. He knew the goose belonged to the giant. The giant's father had been a terrible monster, and had caused much misery and suffering. But this giant, whose name was Grover, was a tame creature. He could frighten one with talk of eating and tearing and grinding, but in truth he wouldn't hurt a soul, and would much rather be tending to his cloud garden, growing his fruits and vegetables. And Jesus knew that the goose meant very much to Grover the giant.

"I got it fair and square. You got my cow. You're not getting my goose," the boy said.

"Nobody speaks to my son that way. Get out of here!" the boy's mother snarled.


The cow gently chewed on a small pile of hay as the stars began twinkling in the sky. Jesus drank from the lake.

He looked up as he heard the faintest music. It was the beautiful strains of a harp. And what was mixed with it? It sounded like sobbing.

"Grover," Jesus spoke softly. "I am so sorry. Sleep peacefully tonight."


The cow's health was slowly improving, but it was still quite weak. As Jesus led him to the lake he was distracted by a blur of color on the large beanstalk. It was the boy, and he looked to be carrying something gold and shiny in one of his arms.

The beanstalk shook violently. Jesus looked up and saw Grover the giant clumsily climbing down after the boy.

Jesus moved closer and saw the boy had Grover's prized golden harp. The boy reached the bottom and grabbed an axe, and started chopping at the beanstalk.

"No," Jesus said.

With the extra weight of Grover weakening the beanstalk, the boy was able to chop it apart with only a few swings. Grover fell from the beanstalk into a shallow part of the lake. With a large crack, Grover's neck snapped. He was dead.

"No," Jesus said.


The cow's health was steadily worsening. Grover's enormous body was polluting the entire lake, from which the townspeople and many animals got their water.

The cow was so sick from drinking the water that it barely moved.

Jesus looked up at the cottage. It was much more magnificent. Two more stories had been added, and some additional buildings had been built as well. There was a large fence that encircled a good acre around the cottage, and a couple shady-looking townsfolk stood by a new wrought-iron gate.

Jesus patted the cow's head, then left to slowly walk up to the cottage. The two men walked up to meet him.

"Can we help you?" one of them asked.

"Yes, I need to speak with the boy and his mother," Jesus replied.

"Sorry, they aren't expecting visitors."

"I must see them. The water is polluted. The townspeople are getting sick."

"Go away before you get hurt." One of the men advanced on Jesus with a short knife.

Jesus walked back down the hill.


It was Sunday morning. The cow lay down on a small makeshift bed of hay by the lake. Its breathing was shallow and pained.

The stench of Grover was horrible. It was so bad that many townspeople had moved away. The ones who had complained had been dealt with by the guards at the cottage. There now numbered over ten guards on the property.

The door to the luxurious cottage opened up and the boy and his mother stepped out. They were both dressed in the finest of clothes. Several guards accompanied them as they reached the edge of their property.

Jesus walked up to them and kneeled down. "Please, my good friends," Jesus said. "Please. Your cow is dying. The townspeople are sick. Please, can you help your brothers and sisters with fresh water? With medicine? With food?"

The guards moved toward Jesus, but the mother stopped them.

She walked over to Jesus.

"Just who do you think you are, you filthy beggar?" she asked.
"I have to watch my property every day for vagabonds like you stealing water from my well. I sleep with one eye open. I even have to watch my guards to make sure they don't pinch some of my food."

"Mom," the boy said, "we're going to be late for church."

"You think it's easy?" the mother asked. "Take care of your own. I'll take care of mine. If you come around again I'll make sure you don't walk away."


Jesus walked down to the lakeside. Huge swarms of flies buzzed around Grover's decaying head.

The cow's eyes were wide and glazed over. Jesus rested his hand on the cow's neck. It was dead.

Jesus stood up slowly. He pulled his robes around himself and shrugged.

He walked down the muddy road, disappearing into the morning mist.

And that was the last time anyone ever saw Jesus again.


Fran said...

Holy crap Splotchy.

That is one of the best things I have ever read.

I am stunned by the power of your words.

Fran said...

I had to link to this.

Splotch man, you rock my world.

dguzman said...

Wow. Just wow, Splotch. Wow.

M.Yu said...

Nice parable

I hope that shows Jesus how important it is to mind his own business!

The best intentions can kill innocents and destroy entire cultures. Oooops!

Great post for this weekend. If Jesus ran a government agency just imagine the chaos!

Diamond Dave Diggler said...

Your warped sense of humor has ruined another children's story for me. And again, I thank you!

The Brothers Grimm, move over... It's Splotch!

Kate Morningstar said...

I dunno what to say. Best I can come up with is "Thank You," and that doesn't come near what I'm feeling.

Freida Bee said...

Maybe this could go into a book of Fables, like the Bible, or something.

(This is as if Roald Dahl wrote the Parables of Jesus. More please!)

Paul said...

Good job, Splotchy. Thanks.

Fran said...

Splotchy- you have created the unique here. Some of us are jeebus lovin' types and we love it and some are not and seem to feel similarly.

You are a bridge.

Or something.

Diane M. Roth said...

splotchy, this makes me sad. it's very good.
... seems to me about taking something good and turning it into something bad via greed.

Manx said...

This is a wonderful and depressing tale, sir Splotch.

Life As I Know It Now said...

WHOA! That freaked me out.