At The End Of The Nativity Day

M: I thought you said they confirmed a double confinement room with crib?

J: Yeh but hey – whadda yer gonna do?

M: So you said they confirmed by email…

J: email, shlemail, never buy retail…it’s not so bad out here….

M: Sadie Wolfovitz gets a private room at the Cedars of Lebanon, I get a sty in Bethlehem…

J: …complaining, complaining….enough already….

M: ….Sadie marries Herod’s top tax collector. My mother, God rest her, she tells me marry a go-getter, so I get pregnant by a carpenter…

J: It’s a steady job – everyone needs cupboards. We got a healthy little boy….so whadda we gonna call him?

M: I should care. Stable-boy, maybe?

J: Nah….too goyim. I’m thinking maybe, I’m Joseph and Joshua’s a good name for a Jewish boy…my uncle Morry the book-keeper, he says here in Bethlehem the name’s pronounced Jesus now….it’s all the rage.

M: Right…so you want maybe we should be Jesus, Mary an’ Joseph?

J: Sure – why not?

M: Sounds like a Goyim cussing ter me.

J: What would you know, huh?

M: I know plenny..I hoid ’em sayin’ “Jesus H. Christ!”

J: Yer did? Yer know, come to think of it, H stands for Herod…wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay on the right side of Sadie’s husband to give liddle Jesus meek and mild Herod as a middle name…but what’s with this Christ shit? My surname’s Nazarethavitch….

M: Oiveh….look shitforbrains, that’s not important right now, the baby’s crying on account of this star like I never seen before chucking light beams all over his face.

[Noises off in the shape of music composed by André Previn as three impeccably dressed Kings arrive unexpectedly on camels, before shuffling into the animal sty]

K3: We three kings of Orient are….

Hotel jobsworth: I don’t care if you’re masters of the Universe, you can’t park your camels there…

K2: We are the three Wise Men.

J: Three guys called Weissman? Means nuthin ter me…you related to any Weissmans?

M: Not thaddi know of….

K1: We bring gifts for the Son of God.

M: Gifts sound good. Right now, we’re short on gifts…

HotelJobsworth: Move your freakin’ camels or….

J: What yer got?

K3: We bring gold, frankincense and myrrh…

J: Gold, I like…frankincense is like an aromatic gum resin, right? Tell yer the truth, I’m either way on that one..

M: And myrrh helps embalm dead persons. Are you people for real?

K2: We followed the star and it led us to here….

M: No shit? And I’m de Queen o’ Sheeba….

J: Let’s not be hasty here….if this is like a Game show, I say we’ll take the gold

K1: It is foretold…

HotelJobsworth: For the last fuckin’ time, I foretell that if you don’t move your fuckin’ camels, yer gettin’ a ticket fellas…

J: What is foretold?

K3: That your son will bring down Rome and…

M: This is what I get? A carpenter who inseminates me with The Messiah….what did I do to deserve….

J: Don’t stop with the foretelling already…. and what exactly?

K2: So, two thousan’ an twenny-two years later, he makes a return visit an’ stops the New Nazis from destroying the world.

M: So vot is a Nazi?

J: Whaddever it is, it don’t sound too good. Like maybe a some kind of Schlemiel. World destroyers I can do without….

HotelJobsworth: Right, that’s it….I gave you fair warning….you got three tickets, an’ they ain’t to the Irish policeman’s ball….