God's Little Gift To Jesus

"Sir?" K-Ro whispered, his eyelids heavy in his darkened room. He was lying in his tiny cot, wearing his purple sleep cap and Buzz Lightyear underoos as I sat next to him, having just finished reading him a bedtime story of selected passages from Brian Bosworth's magnum opus, The Boz.

"Yes, my dear friend," I replied softly.

"Do you believe in God?" he asked. I considered his question thoughtfully, carefully measuring my response.

"I've never seen him," I said, "Although I did pray often as a child that I would one day grow to be a man of tremendous wealth, power, and respect, and that I would get the opportunity to screw tons of hot chicks, which have all come to obvious fruition. So, you never know."

"I was born on Christmas Day," K-Ro said, "Mama told me I was God's little gift to Jesus."

"Jesus?" I said, "The gardener, I suppose?"

"The son," he replied.

"An odd gift for a gardener's son," was my response, "Your mother was a generous soul."

"Sir?" K-Ro asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you believe in Bigfoot?"

"Uncle Perciforth claimed to have once encountered a Bigfoot. He said it assaulted and raped him in a tattered tent in the north country. He was too ashamed to report it to the authorities."

K-Ro's eyes widened with shock and concern.

"Rape is a hard thing to prove," he finally said.

"Uncle Perciforth was in the habit of wearing provocative sleeping garments. Usually no more than a top hat and diamond studded thong," I said to him, noticing his closed eyes. I gently kissed him on the forhead and tucked his blanket tightly under his chin.

"Goodnight, sweet K-Ro," I said softly, as K-Ro drifted into sleep.

As I left K-Ro's sleeping quarters, a thought entered my mind. Perhaps the story of my dear Uncle Perciforth, and his encounter with a depraved sexually predatory Bigfoot, could turn out to be The Greatest Story Ever Written. I considered the marketability of such a project. A film adaptation could be quite profitable, perhaps something in 3-D. Rapist Bigfoot action figures would be the hot holiday gift on every child's wish list. Of course, I would insist on being intimately involved in the casting process of the film. Ben Roethlisberger seemed like a natural fit for the role of the misunderstood beast. Or someone from the University of Miami Hurricanes football program. Had The Rock ever molested anyone? I wasn't sure. Would have to Google that one. So many ideas. As I prepared for bed, I decided it was time to track down my long lost Uncle Perciforth. His was a story that begged to be told.

I closed my eyes as sleep approached, silently thanking K-Ro for the spark that had now burst into a roaring flame of creativity within my consciousness. I promised myself that in the coming morning I would awaken K-Ro with a reconsidered proclamation: Yes, I believe in God!