Gherkin Street

By Red Dinger:

Dear Mum,

Its me, Judas Iscariot. I’m sorry its been a while since I’ve written but we’ve been really busy following Jesus around and besides the only paper we get we tend to keep for going to the toilet.

To be honest, I’m a bit over the whole disciple thing. As you know, I misheard Jesus when we first met, I thought he said he was going to “Honalee” not “Galilee”. It was a mistake anyone could have made. Its been a sore point ever since. Every time I mention it to Jesus he keeps telling me that God is the only “magic dragon” I should care about. I do, really I do, but I particularly wanted to see Puff.

Mum, I know you never liked Jesus, but he really is a nice bloke. Very loving and giving and the miracles are a something to behold. But Id be lying if I was saying our relationship hadn’t soured over the past year or so.

I just kept getting the feeling that he doest like me as much as the other disciples. For example, you know when he did the loaves and fishes trick, feeding the 5000, well everyone else got smoked salmon and sourdough while I only got a stale, gluten-free lump of rye and a few anchovies.

Then, that leper he cured – well he keeps telling me that he was still infectious while I helped him to his feet. Plus, he is always looking mockingly at my groin and saying “blessed are the meek”.

Maybe I’m reading a bit much into things but every night Jesus gets up to pee at about 3 in the morning and he always goes right near my bedroll. Plus, most nights he trips over my head on the way back to his bed. I could swear he also says something like “nark”, “snitch” or “squealer” under his breath.

I’ve always done everything he asked so I don’t know why he is picking on me. Of course, he did get really angry that time when I yelled out “Jesus Christ!” when he accidentally trod on my foot. He said, “Now everyone will be saying stuff like that!” but I don’t see the problem.

He’s no bed of roses either. I can tell you, he may be the Son of God but he snores, never makes the tea and he keeps making that noise with his teeth when he eats. It just really bugs me. Plus, he can turn water into wine easily so why does he get so angry when I sell a few dozen crates of it whenever we get into town?

But, Mum, most of all, the thing that has really been bugging me about Jesus is the parrot he was given as a gift. It’s a scrawny, hateful bird that bites when you get too close. Its like a god damned bouncer – no wonder he named it Saint Peter. The other disciples hate it too - although my washing is the only one it seems to crap on! Jesus is always petting and whispering to it, then laughing at the rest of us. Its just so annoying.

What’s worse is the damn thing just never shuts up. Plus it only knows one phrase which it repeats, oh, only a million times a day – “thirty pieces of silver, thirty pieces of silver!” I reckon it must have been owned by a pirate.

Mum, if someone offered me thirty pieces of silver the first thing Id do would be to do away with that bird, Messiah’s pet or not! There are times when Id even hand over Jesus just to shut it up.

I suspect Jesus senses my feelings towards the bird though, he’s very intuitive that way. Plus I accidentally hit him in the back of the head with a stone when I was aiming at the parrot.

The only good news is that all the disciples got together the other night and we agreed that no matter what happened none of us would mention the parrot in our Gospels should Jesus die. It’s a bit embarrassing and it just doesn’t do the whole Christian religion thing much credence.

Anyway Mum, we are heading to Jerusalem tomorrow and I reckon that once we get there I’ll pull up stumps and come home unless I get a better offer.

Hope all is well there and looking forward to seeing you and the family.

Love, your son,
Judas

P.S. Got your note about a potential job offer from your friend Pontius. Maybe I’ll meet him for a chat, you are probably right – what’s the worse that can happen?