Stuntman of God

By Chuck Bean

If you've ever been confused by the unclear and contradictory stories of Jesus in the Bible, _Stuntman of God_ is here to help. Why would an omnipotent God need to sacrifice His Son to save humanity from the Hell He created? Obviously, He didn't. Here's a more consistent and funnier retelling of Jesus' life. Any spiritual enlightenment gained by reading this book is purely accidental, and should not be credited to the author.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chuck Bean
• Release date: Jul 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301997886

Chuck Bean

Chuck Bean was traumatized by twelve years of Catholic schooling before breaking free to study Physics at Harvey Mudd College. He now teaches Physics at a public high school and runs a mental math dojo. He has a wonderful wife, an awesome son, and a tolerable cat.

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Stuntman of God

by Chuck Bean

Published by Chuck Bean at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Chuck Bean

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form without the permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Cover Art copyright © 2013 by T. Feng

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Editor's Note

Chapter 1: Heavenly Politics

Chapter 2: Gabby Screws Up

Chapter 3: Murt From Urt

Chapter 4: There's a Sucker Born Every Minute

Chapter 5: Kiddie Drama

Chapter 6: Young Gods In Love

Chapter 7: Son of God Brand Building Supplies

Chapter 8: The Pied Piper

Chapter 9: Capernaum Capers

Chapter 10: Warm Receptions

Chapter 11: Judas' Betrayal

Chapter 12: Divine Interventions

Chapter 13: Hitting Bottom

Chapter 14: Simon Yells at Me

About the Author

Editor’s Note

I was sitting around one day in front of my computer, trying to figure out what I could write that could actually get published. I’d written a crappy short story that had been roundly rejected, and I was working on a crappy sci-fi novel with a college buddy, but I wanted to write something that people would read and like. Suddenly the display screen of my word processor disappeared, and at first I figured the screen saver was kicking in, since I hadn’t done anything for a while, but it turned out that an angel had taken over my system. Yeah, I’m insane, I know.

Anyway, this angel’s face appeared, and his halo became quite blinding. I had to fumble around to find the dimmer on my monitor.

Chuck Bean, he said, in a loud and impressive voice, although my cheap speakers probably didn’t do justice.

I wiggled the mouse around and tapped a few keys to see if I could do anything, but nothing happened. My computer doesn’t have a microphone, so I didn’t consider speaking.

Chuck Bean, the angel said again, as if I didn’t hear him the first time. I am Angel Guido. I have copied a story onto your hard drive, and I want you to get it published. He was quiet and still for a few seconds, and I was about to reboot my system when he said, Don’t Ctrl-Alt-Delete me, you fool. Do you understand me? Speak!

Uh, I understand what you’ve said. Did Michelle forget to update the antiviral software? Michelle is my wife. I was thinking that someone from the outside was screwing around with me. We used a dial-up connection, and even if it had connected on its own, it seemed to be downloading video much faster than it should.

No, I’m an angel. Listen. If you don’t get this book published, I’ll come back and destroy every electronic and hard copy of everything you’ve written. I shrugged. I hadn’t written anything worthwhile anyway. I’ll also fry every component in your computer and erase the discs containing your computer games. Now that was a threat. A cheap new computer was two weeks’ pay, and my saved games were irreplaceable. On the incentive side, you can take whatever money and credit you can get from this story. Hell, sell the movie rights if you can. I’ll be back in six months to check on your progress. With that he was gone, and my boring word processor was back. I looked around on my hard drive and found that there actually was a novel. (Later, I discovered that Guido had placed five copies of the story in various places on my drive. I guess he didn’t want me to have any problems finding it.) I read the story, and it was the most funny, gripping, exciting, and enlightening seventy-two thousand words I’d ever read. I didn’t feel right taking the credit for this wonderful book, so I wrote this editor’s note explaining how I got it, knowing full well that no one would believe it. It’s good enough for my conscience.

Chuck Bean

Las Vegas, 7/3/06

Chapter 1: Heavenly Politics

Although I wasn’t there to witness the following events, I’ve talked to people who were, and I’ve been able to piece them (the events) together, more or less. To preserve their anonymity, I will not describe any of my informants in the following text. Therefore, if I have described a person, he did not give me information. I would also like to state, right up front, that I am writing this of my own free will, and no Person (except my little brother) or Entity is pressuring me to do so. In fact, if a certain Person knew I was writing this, I would be under an extreme amount of pressure not only to stop writing, but also to justify why I shouldn’t be forced to clean the local sewers with my tongue. I write this for the sake of truth, and to assuage my guilty conscience, not as a favor for any of the many Beings more powerful than I.

To my understanding, the beginning of the whole mess occurred when Archangel Gabriel became dissatisfied with the workers under him.

Gabby was granted an audience with our oh-so-busy Master during the intermission of the afternoon’s gong show. While the Master was stuffing His illustrious Face with caviar on toast, Gabby came groveling in, nose to the floor. A dancing-angels act had just gotten the gong, and was still clearing out when Gabby came in. Some of the dancers were highly amused at Gabby’s lack of dignity, and took the opportunity to snicker at him. Gabby, on the other hand, was not amused, but was too busy groveling to punish the snickering angels.

Not everyone has seen the big Boss, so I think I’ll dispel some myths about Him while I have the chance. He is not a three-meter tall, heavily-muscled rock-eater. He’s no more than two-and-a-half meters tall (although it’s hard to tell since He rarely stands), and while He may have been Muscle-bound during His world-building days, eons of rest have turned most of that Muscle into Flab. He is, however, quite loud. If He’s not using His Mouth to devour a dessert that some poor cook slaved for hours to make, He’s yelling at that cook to make Him more.

I know that all the races seem to think that the Master is of their race, but the truth is, He’s a Mutt. He looks like a hybrid of all the human races. He has long Hair, long Beard, long Nails, and usually wears a plain white robe. Normally He’s not very fussy about His appearance, and will let spilled food stay on His clothes (and Beard) until it starts to smell. The exception to this is His monthly game with Lucifer, for which He will occasionally have Himself cleaned up, and have His most glorious duds put on. He enjoys those games so much because Luce is the only Person who’s not scared of giving Him a challenge.

Gabby is another story. The only Person I know of who’s fussier about his appearance is Luce. Most of us just don’t have the opportunity to be as well-groomed as those two. Gabby has a servant whose sole job is to preen his wings. The only time Gabby is willing to get his fancy clothes dirty is when he gets an opportunity to grovel before the Master. (After his audience with God, Gabby had his dirty robes thrown away and got new ones.)

At any rate, the Master was sitting there on His mounds of pillows, being waited on by a bunch of kitchen servants, and Gabby crawled in, getting ready to lick His Feet. The snickering of the dancing angels brought God’s attention to Gabby, who would not dare to speak first.

YES, GABRIEL? boomed the Master, sending partially-chewed caviar and bits of toast flying across the room, making more work for the janitors and Gabby’s grooms.

My Lord, I am Your most humble servant.

SO YOU KEEP TELLING ME.

Sire, all my waking hours are spent working for the glory of Your Kingdom, and all my dreaming thoughts are concerned with how I might serve You better.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

All of Your creations are magnificent, my Lord, and the humans are no exception.

YES, I KNOW.

It was truly a sample of Your most magnificent genius when You gave the humans free will.

GET TO THE POINT, GABRIEL. YOUR LORD IS VERY BUSY.

Yes, Sire. Although free will is a wonderful gift, it allows the humans to choose badly, through no fault of Yours. The worst of the humans are sent to the Devil, but even the humans whom You accept into Your glorious Kingdom do not choose perfectly.

I AM AWARE OF THEIR FAILINGS, AS I AM AWARE OF EVERYTHING.

Of course, my Lord. Some of the bad decisions the humans in Heaven make include fighting amongst themselves, disobeying their superiors, and general laziness. The result is that work is not done as efficiently as it could be. If the humans were better workers, the glory of Your Kingdom would be greatly increased, as difficult as that is for my inferior mind to imagine.

HMM. YOU HAVE A POINT, GABRIEL. WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE?

May I humbly suggest that You remove the free will of the humans who come to Heaven, Sire?

WHAT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? God shouted. I actually heard this part, although I was nowhere near His palace. When the Master yells, He really yells.

There was a period of silence, as Gabby peeled himself off the back wall, and groveled his way back to the foot of the Master (although not as close as before). In truth, there may not have been silence, but my informant was temporarily deafened by the Master’s yell, so for him there was silence. Fortunately, Gabby seemed to have lost his hearing too, and did not resume talking until my witness had regained his hearing.

Sire, I apologize. I should have known that You would not take the precious gift of free will away from Your beloved creations, however little they deserve that gift. You are a kind and generous Lord. Gabby had started to beat a hasty retreat out of the room, but he couldn’t move very fast with a backwards crawl.

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT. DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH WORK IT WOULD BE TO REMOVE FREE WILL FROM ALL THE HUMANS IN HEAVEN, AND FROM EVERY PERSON ENTERING HEAVEN? DO YOU THINK I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO?

Of course You have better things to do, my Lord. It was foolish and stupid of me not to think of it.

BUT THE PROBLEM YOU MENTION IS IMPORTANT. I WANT YOU TO THINK OF AN ALTERNATIVE SOLUTION. DISMISSED. NEXT ACT!

Gabby resumed his crawling retreat, and the next act came on, a skit mocking Lucifer.

As soon as Gabby got back to his quarters, he stripped off his dirty robes, sent for his grooms, and entered the bath that was waiting for him. His preener, Sesostris, entered in a few moments, followed closely by a couple other servants.

Ses is an odd little Egyptian who died about two thousand years before these events. He’d been Gabby’s preener for over a thousand years, and why he lived in my neighborhood I don’t know. As an archangel’s servant, he could have afforded to live in a much better neighborhood than mine. He got the job because he’s one of the wisest humans around. Ses says this is due to the education that the Egyptian royalty received. Most of us humor Ses about his continuous claims of royalty, but don’t take him seriously. Hell, I suppose I could be considered royalty, since my brother started calling himself King after he founded his own village.

Ses inspected Gabby’s wings, which were speckled with food and ravaged by wind, and asked, Been talking with the Master again, Archangel?

Gabby sighed. No, I’ve been standing in a wind tunnel where fish were spawning. Of course it was God Who made me look like this! It’s His business if He wants to look like a slob, but I wish He’d have some respect for my appearance.

While Ses straightened the feathers and removed the fish eggs and toast, the other grooms washed the rest of Gabby and got new clothes ready. What did He yell at you for, today? inquired Ses for the sake of conversation.

Merely because I suggested that He remove the ... uh. Oh, no reason, really. He wants me to come up with a way to make dead human workers more productive, though.

Hmm. Back when I was Pharaoh of Egypt ... did you know I was a Pharaoh, sir?

Yes, yes. Everyone knows, Sesostris.

Well, sir, back when I was Pharaoh, we had a saying: ‘A deluded slave is a good slave.’ We’d tell the poor saps that they’d be set free after they helped place fifty blocks in a pyramid. What we didn’t tell them was that the typical slave was either killed or crippled after twenty blocks, and the ones who did make it to fifty couldn’t count well enough to be sure.

I’ve already considered that. Indoctrination doesn’t seem to work. I tried to teach my workers to be friendly and obedient, but they soon reverted to their old habits. We need a more permanent solution.

The problem with indoctrinating workers here is that their personalities are already set. I’ve been in Heaven for nearly two thousand years, yet I’m basically the same person I was when I was alive, and a mere thirty years old. Whew. Re, oops, I mean the Master, sure mangled your feathers. Ses was collecting a small pile of damaged plumage he had removed from Gabby’s wings.

But how do we go about training the humans on Earth? God doesn’t approve of large-scale interference with their affairs. It takes the fun out of watching them, apparently.

Aren’t the Jews good workers? That ‘Chosen People’ experiment that the Master did a long time ago seems to have had the side effect of making them more obedient.

The Jews are only a small fraction of the human population. We need a bigger effect.

If a similar religion was started, except they were told that they were supposed to convert other people to their religion, the new religion could spread over the whole world.

That could work. Now I just need to come up with a way to get that religion started.

It only takes a single person to start a religion. The Master could send someone down to Earth who would impress the locals with his God-given powers, and teach them to be good, proselytizing workers. That reminds me of another saying we had, back when I was Pharaoh of Egypt: ‘Only one moron is needed to bargain with the crocodiles.’

The moron, damn it, I mean the prophet, would have to be sent to a people that were ripe for a new religion. Most cultures would probably ignore or kill him.

How about the Jews, sir? The Master seems to like playing with them, and they should be fairly receptive. After all, they think He’s given them all sorts of predictions. You can make the Jews believe anything just by fulfilling some of them.

I think this plan will work. Thanks for letting me bounce my ideas off you, Sesostris.

You’re welcome, sir, said Ses, while pulling out a few healthy feathers as payment for his thoughts. Yep, the Master sure did a number on your wings. If you want to keep your wings in good shape, you should try to avoid being directly in front of Him when He yells.

Don’t you think I know that? It’s not easy to dodge with dignity, Sesostris. Say, how long do you think Archangel Raphael will last against Archangel Michael in tonight’s wrestling match?

I’d put my money on longer than a round. Raphael has been working hard, and Michael’s been resting on his laurels lately. When I was a Pharaoh, we had a saying: ‘Don’t be lazy, or we’ll punish you.’

The next day, Gabby went to see the Master while He was in His viewing room. The viewing room is where He spies on all the living humans. There is a small pond in the center of the room, which displays on its surface whatever the Master wants shown. His servants say this is His favorite form of entertainment. When Gabby entered, He was watching the entire life of a single South American male. The Master often puts His pond into an extremely fast viewing mode, which makes it impossible for an observing human to comprehend what is shown.

One of the observing humans was a kitchen woman by the name of Pek. She was born around 3000 BCE on the Chinese coast, and lived her entire life (ten years) in a small fishing village. Pek is a very beautiful woman, which is part of the reason she was hired to serve the Master. She’s only one hundred forty centimeters tall, and had grown her hair to nearly that length. In recent years she has cut her hair short, so as not to interfere with her hobby, table tennis. Pek was probably one of the first Chinese ever to play, since soon after the English invented the sport, she had a table made for her house. With a hundred years of experience, now, she enjoys challenging recently deceased professional players and demonstrating how a tiny woman can beat them.

Gabby had to wait until God finished watching the fast-forward life of the jungle dweller. From his groveling position on the floor, the archangel discreetly looked to see what his Lord would spray him with today, and then mentally braced himself for wine stains and pork chop bits.

HE DIED OF NATURAL CAUSES. HOW BORING. SEND HIM TO HELL. WHAT IS IT NOW, GABRIEL?

My Lord, Yours is the supreme glory in the universe.

DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS ROUTINE EVERY TIME, GABRIEL?

I am so awed in Your presence that I cannot help but pay tribute, Sire.

ARE YOU DONE YET?

Since my Lord is very busy, I will hold back the praises that try to burst from my lips.

GOOD. NOW WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Yesterday, Sire, You told me to think of a plan to make the workers in Your glorious Kingdom more productive. I have thought long and hard about it, my Lord, and although I could not conceivably devise a solution nearly as well as You could, I believe I have come up with a passable proposal.

I AM VERY CONCERNED ABOUT THIS PROBLEM, GABRIEL. COULD THE LAZINESS OF THE WORKERS BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DELAY IN MY RECENT CONSTRUCTION PROJECTS?

Gabriel saw his opportunity for advancement and seized it. Undoubtedly, Sire. If the workers had a better performance level, the new wing of Your palace and the coal mines in the Yahweh Hills would surely have been finished by now.

WE NEED THAT WING FINISHED, GABRIEL. MY SON IS DRIVING ME CRAZY. ONCE THAT WING IS DONE, JUNIOR WON’T HAVE TO COME INTO MY PART OF THE PALACE ANYMORE. The Master paused to gulp down a couple liters of wine. WHAT IS YOUR PROPOSAL?

I humbly suggest, my Lord, that You send someone to the Jews to start a new religion. The person sent could win followers with his powers, and he could teach them to be obedient, unquestioning, and missionary. Jewish prophets have predicted the coming of a messiah, and by fulfilling the details of some of the predictions Your emissary will gain credibility. Soon Earth will be full of people who have been trained from birth to be good workers, my Lord.

The Master took the chance to wolf down the last two pork chops while Gabby was speaking, and when He was almost finished chewing said, YOUR PLAN HAS POTENTIAL, GABRIEL. DID YOU HAVE SOMEONE IN MIND FOR THIS JOB? He had the beginnings of a grin on His Face, which is very unusual.

Sire, I suspect we can find an intelligent, trustworthy Jew to go on this great mission.

NO NEED. I HAVE DECIDED WHO WILL GO. MESSENGER, GO FETCH MY SON. The Master’s primary messenger, who had been the messenger of victory from the Greek battle of Marathon, ran off to find Junior. GABRIEL, PREPARE THE WAY FOR THE SON OF GOD TO VISIT THE JEWS. REPORT BACK TOMORROW. The Master began to chuckle, for the first time in decades.

My Lord, Your brilliance is unsurpassed. It would never have occurred to me that the perfect Person to send is Your Son. I go now to do Your bidding, oh King of kings. Gabby edged out of the room, escaping with very little food in his plumage.

While He waited for His Son to arrive, the Master ordered a chocolate cake and played with His viewing pond. The cake was delivered immediately, since the kitchen keeps a stock of His favorite foods on hand at all times. Wine was piped into the room