The idea of a Zombie Jesus who stalks one random Saturday night every Spring looking for fresh Christians to feast upon, dropping little, colorful egg-shaped hunks of his own soured and rotten Jesus-flesh for small children to find and eat the following Sunday is, to say the least, only a little bit disturbing. Add to that a Night of the Lepus breaking and entering scavenger hunt staring the demented rabbit from Donnie Darko, and the mythology becomes just plain silly.
Here's how it really went down:
Some two thousand years ago there was a guy called Jesus. Imagine a mix between The Dude in The Big Lebowski and Matthew McConaughey - generally a piece loving, abs-rocking party boy. Jesus and his posse tried to overthrow the financial corruption in their time in much the same way Fonzie might have on Happy Days.
In response to this flagrant misbehavior, The Man came down on our hero, and hard. One of Jesus' homies sold him out, and he was tried for war crimes. The Man - 1, The Jesus - 0. They even put him up on a cross as if to say to the other party boys: I got you all in check. It is in this way that Jesus died for some sins.
Jesus' posse, having seen his corpse wink mischievously, stole his body and hid it in a cave. A few weeks or months later, Jesus woke up from his bummer-coma, stretched, and sought out his posse. Having reconvened, they threw a wonderful party with plentiful fruits and breads and delicious meats and wine - oh, was there wine! This party went on for several days, but unbeknownst to the posse, he had died late on the first night, having slipped on a banana peel and suffering a severe brain hemorrhage.
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