A Piece of Jesus Pie

I awoke in the middle of the night to find my luxury 5 Star hotel room full of a golden light. At first I was afraid then I was petrified, but I heard a loving warm voice call to me softly.

"Come here my child". It was the Sweet Jesus. He came to offer me strength in my trials and told me that I would be victorious and explained how my suffering can only be compared to His. Yes, yes, yes, I thought, you've told me all this before, over twenty times already. I was beginning to yawn. Perhaps sensing this, he lazed lovingly into me with his rich brown eyes and said, "I've brought you a friend".

The glowing mist parted and there, standing before me was none other than Sir Ian Blair.

'Brown Eyed Babe', as I call Him then said that Sir Ian would keep me safe, make sure the whole world would read my research and protect me from wombats, gibbons and sea lions.

"Sea lions?," I said, stunned.

"You haven't met them yet, but they are massing on the Polish border, preparing an assault." BEB informed me, "but they will be repelled. But be careful and keep an eye out for them."

Sir Ian then prostrated himself at my feet and kissed them. I was sooo glad I'd done my toenails earlier. Then he stood up - and he looked magnificent in his uniform - and knighted me with his baton.

Jesus then gave me a huge hug, I could feel his muscles, his strength, his calmness and, I thought, a little 'stiffness' down there. I felt embarrassed for him but didn't show it, after all I must respect His feelings.

Who could blame him though. But that wasn't all. He then said he would show me the future and how things will come to pass.

I was whisked away to a desolate plain with a solitary tree. It was a banana tree that was 50 feet tall (Him Upstairs doesn't use metric. He should, it makes much more sense. I'll give Him my advice next time we meet). Around it bands of hungry gibbons tried and failed to climb the tree and take the bananas. He explained, the malicious gibbons won't take your banana of beautiful research, they're just not significant enough.

Then we passed over a dark overgrown swamp. "Here is Dan Hart, for here he must spend eternity in the dark swamp with no light for his drawings. Next to him the psychologist wombats are being awfully violated by giraffes. "

Then we wnet to a desolate place in perpetual dark. Inside we could hear the frantic hammering of a typewriter. In there London Woman has to type out an apology to me, for all eternity.

'Sounds about right', I thought.

Then I fell asleep and woke up in my luxury 5 Star hotel room, feeling refreshed, feeling purified, feeling...

Holy.