Seriously, it’s profane.
Last chance to turn back.
The Virgin Mary solemnly steps up to the pulpit and opens her Bible. Pope Benedict skips down the aisle first, skirt hem flouncing, flipping pink and purple flowers at the wedding guests. Jesus and Mohammed follow, wearing pink and purple mini dresses. The wedding guests ooh and aah.
Mary raps on the pulpit with her ruler.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together at this most revered of holy places- the Vatican- under God, to unite Jesus Christ of Nazareth and Mohammed ibn ‘Abdullāh- peace be upon him- in the presence of the Holy Spirit, in holy matrimony. This marriage is ordained by God in Eden and confirmed in Cana of Galilee by the presence of Vatican officiate Frank N. Bottoms, and is declared by the Diocese Gay Sexton-Night to be honorable among all women, men, and transexuals. On this occasion we begin by asking God’s blessing on this marriage service. Let us pray from the Bible:
‘If two men, a man and his countryman, are struggling together, and the wife of one comes near to deliver her husband from the hand of the one who is striking him, and puts out her hand and seizes his genitals, then you shall cut off her hand; you shall not show pity.’*
She slams her Bible closed.
“Now, do either of you have a problem with that?” Mary peers at the fiancés from under her cornette.
“No problem-o,” Jesus says.
“No. See, we’re both men, about to become husbands. Married to each other. No wives are involved,” Mohammed says.
Mary frowns. “I knew that.”
The crowd titters.
Mary adjusts her cornette. “If there is any person here who believes these men should not be united in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever shutty uppy.”
A murmur rolls through the crowd.
A leathery man with a long white beard stands. “Quick question.”
“Are you gonna say all that ‘forsaking all others’ stuff? ‘Cause me and Jez got a standing date every Thursday night. Helps me let off steam, if y’all know what I mean.”
The crowd laughs.
“Yes, ‘forsaking all others’ is a part of the marriage vows.”
“But what about my steam?”
“Well, obviously, marriage vows are open to papacy interpretation. Make a special donation to the church, and you’ll be allowed to redefine ‘forsaking’ to whatever makes you happy.”
“We still on for Thursday’s, Jez?” the man shouts.
“Most assuredly, Moshe!” Jesus yells back.
The crowd roars with laughter.
Mary raps her ruler on the pulpit. “Anybody else?”
A pot-bellied man with a topknot and a forehead dot stands.
“Hey, Hammy- we still on for Mondays?” he calls out.
“You bet, Bud!” Mohammed answers.
The crowd applauds and stomps.
“Ladies and gentlemen and trannies! Please try to control yourselves!” Mary brings down the ruler with a THWWWACK and it breaks in two.
“Lookie there. See what you made me do? Now let’s have a modicum of decency for the rest of the ceremony, shall we?”
Not a peep from the crowd.
“That’s better. Now, do you, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, take Mohammed ibn ‘Abdullāh- peace be upon him- to be your husband, to have and to hold, and promise to love, honor, cherish, protect, serve, obey, worship, and endow vigorously with your endowment, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all others and holding only unto him to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony until death do you part?”
“Ditto for you, Mo?
“Ditto for me.”
“Please exchange rings as a symbol of your eternal bond to each other.”
Jesus and Mohammed slip their rings on each others’ fingers. A couple dozen paparazzi snap photos.
“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now man-kiss each other.”
They embrace and smooch, and the paparazzi go wild.
“That was some damn good vigorous endowment of my endowables, Mo,” Jesus says, taking a long drag from his joint. “And I’m glad we could all adjust our schedules.”
“You were in top gun form yourself, there Jez,” Mohammed replies, sucking on a cigarette. “And I second you on the schedule thing.
Beard man giggles. “Yeah, Saturdays work much better for me.”
“I fourth that one!” topknot man adds.
“Ah, that’s my Blackberry,” Jesus says, grabbing his phone of the nightstand. “Hello? . . What? . . Are you sure? . . All rightie then. Good-bye.”
“I’ve got some bad news, stud muffins. That was the Virgin Mary. She called to confess her sins to Jesus- I mean, to me. She called to confess her sins to me.”
Mohammed sits up. “Huh? I thought she was without sin.”
“Well, I guess she’s not. She said she couldn’t take the guilt anymore.”
“So what are her sins?”
Jesus takes another drag. “Fornicating. And lying about fornicating. Turns out she was pregnant before she got married, and it was her fiancé who knocked her up.”
The others gasp.
“So . . you’re not the Son of God?” Mohammed asks.
“Then who is the Son of God? Er . . me?”
“Nobody. She made it up. There is no Son of God.”
“But that means she’s not a saint!”
“Yep, and being a liar and a fornicator, she’s also not qualified to be a priest and perform marriages.”
“But lying, fornicating men are allowed to be priests and perform marriages all the time,” beard man says.
“You forget- women are held up to a higher standard,” topknot man replies.
Jesus rubs his forehead. “So I guess this means we’re not officially married, Mo.”
“Oh my God,” Mohammed gasps.
“Oh yeah, and about that . . ”