Scene: The Shekinah Cloud
NF sits cross-legged on a glowing rock, tuning her guitar, as stormlight flickers across the horizon. JCJ paces nearby, a holographic cross and a floating StarCraft II medivac drone circling above him like guardian angels of Wi-Fi.
NF: You look heavy again, JCJ. What’s wrong this time — Vatican Wi-Fi lag?
JCJ: (sighs) The Christian religion, Nelly… it’s frustrating. They expect miracles on demand — like God’s some kind of Netflix subscription.
NF: You don’t believe in miracles anymore?
JCJ: Oh, I believe. I’ve seen them. Like when Marilyn Manson went to visit the Croatian Pope — John Malkovich, of all people — to confess his concern about the future of his nephews. That was a miracle of irony.
NF: (laughs) Manson and Malkovich? That’s either a joke or a new season of The Young Pope.
JCJ: Exactly. They call me crazy, but that meeting changed something in heaven’s algorithms. It was a sign — the saints are out of storage space.
NF: So what’s stopping you from performing your own miracles, prophet of the digital age?
JCJ: (points to the sky) Without my StarCraft II medivac hidden in the Shekinah cloud, I can do no healing miracles. The tech’s divine — the AI nurses the sick through quantum compassion.
NF: So basically, you’re saying your miracles need better hardware.
JCJ: (smirks) And faith with better software.
NF: Then maybe your next miracle should be teaching faith to reboot.
(The medivac hums, a blue light beaming down as if uploading a prayer. JCJ looks up, hopeful.)
JCJ: Amen to that. System restoration in progress.
