Here’s a good one for ya.
Back in the day in Jerusalem, my old pal Lazarus and me came up with a cool idea. He was going to pretend to be dead, and I would bring him back to life. His sister Martha was up for the joke and agreed to play her part, so we worked out the plan over a few cups of wine.
On the day, I wept and wailed as they placed Lazzy in the tomb, wrapped in some new burial cloths. As some people helped me roll the big stone across the entrance to the tomb, they couldn’t see that inside there was enough food and drink for four days, and a fresh-killed goat.
So four days later, trying to keep a straight face, I went to the tomb with Martha and a crowd. I raised my head to the skies and pretended to plea for Lazzy to be brought back to life. Martha acted indignantly. “But smell that, he’s been there for four days. No way can he come back to life”. We both knew the goat had gone bad, and Lazzy had covered his burial cloths in the muck. So I made a big deal of them rolling the stone away, and lo and behold, that good guy Lazarus came wandering out in the filthy burial cloths, much to the amazement of everyone crowded around.
I tell ya, those Penn and Teller guys ain’t got nothing on me.
Catch you later, fellow bloggers.