In an unstable economy somewhere in the west, at a cut-price Yourest motel.
Jo: Are you sure he’s not mine? (staring at the swaddling clothing that housed a boy child)
Mare: Of course, we haven’t done it for so long, how can it be?
Jo: Well, when we were first married, you used to call me a miracle worker.
Mare: That was then but your star is fading. Even you would admit that.
Jo: Yes, though you know I’ll stand by you, no matter what.
Mare: I know. (a knock at the door)
Jo: Who the hell is that? Who could know we would be here?
Mare: Don’t ask me. I didn’t even tell the Pharisees that we were coming here.
Jo: They don’t need telling, they seem to know too much.
Mare: Are you going to answer it then?
(Jo opens the door with trepidation and was met with star-bright lights exploding in his face)
Mare: (addressing the now prostrate Jo) Jesus Christ, this is another fine messiah you’ve gotten us in to.
The doorway was filled with a number of men, some with cameras, some with hand-held computers and others each with a mystery box with a question mark on its side.
Mare: What’s the meaning of this scene?
Jo: I knew nothing of this, love. (under his breath to himself) Nobody tells me anything. I am forsaken and much put upon. Forgive me father for I know not what they’re doing here.
One of the strangers chirps up, “We were told by reporters of The Daily Star that there was a special baby in here tonight.”
Mare and Jo (in unison): What do you mean?
One of the strangers replies, “The future…”
Just before the main spokesperson of the group could utter anything else, a small lad squeezed through the throng and announced, “Who ordered the 72-inch Anno Domini Pizza with Fries and extra chilli?
This was indeed a mystical happening as all the party dropped their gifts and huddled round as the divine repast was cut into thirteen pieces.
“Who has the money for this mystical pizza?” the small lad was engulfed by God.