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JESUS LEAVES HIS OFFICE PARTY, and, against corporate policy, decides to borrow one of the company cars. He’s had a few drinks, sure, but he’s certain that his blood/alcohol level is safely under the legal limit. Fumbling with a Mighty Mighty Bosstones cassette as he pulls out of the parking garage, Jesus strikes a young vagrant at high speed. Screeching to a halt, and finding no witnesses, Jesus kneels over the lifeless body of a teenage runaway. A smack addict, by the look of it. Not a single person would notice if this societal outcast suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth.

JESUS WOULD raise the young man from the dead, but not before soaking him in cheap gin, a flask of which he discovered on the runaway’s person during a frantic search through his pockets. Then, as the boy stumbled blindly about, still groggy from the effects of reanimation, Jesus would return the car to its assigned spot in the garage and flee on foot, stopping by his buddy Nick’s to establish an alibi. The two of them would eat ice cream sandwiches and watch taped episodes of "Mr. Show" until 4 a.m., when Jesus would return home for a few hours of fitful sleep. Over the days and weeks to follow, Jesus would comb the local tabloids for references to the waif and his miracle. When at last he’s convinced that word of the accident has not reached the media, Jesus would slowly return to his normal routine and, in time, forget the incident altogether.

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