Merry Easter-Eve

"Mother F-CKER. Whelp, I'm out six pieces of silver."

Ah, the day before Easter. Easter Eve, Holy Saturday, or–as I like to call it–St. Thomas' Day.

This marks the day when Jesus of Nazareth lay in his tomb, dead the day before, but before the day when his followers started seeing apparitions of him, checked his tomb, and said, "Oh crap he's gone."

Now, no one would have said anything the first day, because that's just bad form and comforting was required, but I figure today was the day someone, St. Thomas because why the hell not, first hit on Mary Magdalene.

"Ah, Mary, I know your grief, I too feel it. Surely, I was not his wife, but he was like unto a brother to me. And … it is a brother's duty to care for his widow, so I shall be here for you and your needs. I shall take you into my family and you shall want for noth–

"OH HEY JESUS DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE fuckshitass WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? SHOULDN'T YOU BE DEAD? WHAT'S THE JOKE HERE? Cock-blocking asshole!"

There's a pretty good reason to call him "Doubting Thomas," then. Brother could not believe he could get his game smacked down by a dead man.