[Scene: The Star and Garter Ballroom, Empyrean Building, Holy Mother Public Relations. The party planning committee including Saints Martha, Agatha, Patricia, Augustine, Genevieve, Wenburgh, Cecilia, and the Holy Mother herself, Blessed Virgin, Queen of the Heavens, CEO Holy Mother Public Relations, etc. are preparing for the imminent arrival of what will be possibly most likely perhaps God willing a new saint: Saint (maybe) Ahasuerus.]
Mary [Frazzled] Jesus H Christ, where are Anne and Margaret? They were supposed to be here a half hour ago with the welcome banners!
Jesus [Appearing suddenly as if from nowhere]: Mom?
Mary: Holy Christ you scared the bejesus out of me! What did I tell you about popping in unannounced like that? I completely forgot what I was doing! What do you want?
Jesus: Sorry Mom, I thought I heard you calling me.
Mary: Well, you didn’t. Go back to your father, it’s his week to have you. Oh, but first, I need you to make some wine. God I need a drink. I tried to get some beer out of Amand, but it’s too late in the day to catch him sober. Best I can hope is he doesn’t vomit on the guest of honor.
Jesus: Who is it this time?
Jesus: That guy? I thought he was supposed to wander the earth until I returned.
Mary: Well, there’s a chance he’s coming today, dead or not, unless it’s some sort of mistake. He’s got some tunnel visioned meat head after him who’s getting ready to crack his head open with a biscuit tin, but that’s if he has the depth perception for it. Personally I don’t want him here, I could do without yet another one of these enormous parties. I’ve got Agatha and Patricia fighting over command of the kitchen and that sour bitch Martha complaining about both of them. Look, here she comes.
Jesus: Speak of the devil.
Martha: Hey Jesus. Mary, I could really use some help in there. Why am I always the one stuck in the kitchen doing everything? Patricia is beyond useless and I’d give my left breast to get Agatha to shut up about the Glencree dinner already.
Mary: What are Margaret and Anne doing? Aren’t they in there with you?
Martha: Mina Purefoy went into labor and called on both of them. They’ll be with her for days.
Mary: Both? Well get Aquinas then, where the hell is he?
Martha: That fat ass? He’s in the kitchen, but he’s eating everything in sight: loaves, hogs, stags’ horns, hawks, eyes on a dish, unicorns. I have Wenburgh in there resurrecting what she can, but I still have to cook it all over again. And how do you resurrect a seed cake?
Jesus: Yeah, that’s not easy.
Mary: Well, Genevieve is working on the look of the room, I’ve got Fiacre on flowers and Cecilia is handling music. You can have Amand, but he’s shitfaced drunk.
Martha: Yeah, great. Thanks. Might as well give me a swarm of locusts or a rain of frogs for all the good he’ll do me.
Jesus: Maybe we can delay Ahasaures’ arrival somehow? You don’t want him here anyway, do you Mom?
Mary: Oh Christ no.
Martha: Really? Oh that would be great. I hear he’s bad news anyway. Uses his wife to help him cheat at cards. Son of a grifter too, who defrauded a bunch of people with unsecured loans before he killed himself.
Fiacre: [Carrying an enormous bunch of aconite] Oooh, who are we talking about, Ahasuerus? I heard that he won buckets of money on a horse race, and then refused to buy a round at the bar. What a cheap ass. Cute as a shit house rat too.
Mary: All right, think. What do we do to buy some time?
Jesus: Who’s the one going to throw the biscuit tin? We can mess with his aim.
Martha: Good idea. Maybe we can blind him?
Mary: Well I can’t spare Genevieve, she’s up to her tits in work getting this place decorated.
Jesus: What about Nicholas and Anthony? Nick can steal his glasses and Anthony can hide them.
Mary: That might do it. Jesus, you find them and get them on it asap. Martha, get your ass back into the kitchen. I’ll see if your sister can help.
Martha: Fat chance.
Jesus: No. She doesn’t need to be here.
Mary: And Jesus, get back to your father after you find Tony and Nick. I can’t have him bitching to the lawyers again about me violating his visitation rights. Costs me a fortune every time.