Holy Resurrection

I died. It's hard to believe, but it's true. I was standing around, minding my own business, about to shoot Bob, and then....BAM! Life ended.

It was an odd experience, being dead. Sort of like using mouthwash, there was a tingly burning all over my body. The last thing I remember thinking was, "Oh, no! My glasses!"

Then, everything went fuzzy. Then, I awoke in a haze. God, as portrayed by Andy Griffith, was beside me. We were looking down on my dead body together.



"Am I dead?"

"Yes, Noah. You are dead."

"But," I complained, "what about all the stuff I still have to do? Copiers to sell, companies to destroy, Claire Bears to save?"

"Relax. I am aware of your responsibilities. That is why I'm sending you back."

"Back?"

"Yes. You must live, Noah, so that you may build an ark."

"Ark?"

"No, I'm only kidding. Do whatever it is you do."

And with that, I awoke. I was relieved I wouldn't have to build an ark. It had been a fear of mine my entire life. Children used to make fun of me in school. They'd say things like, "Hey, Noah. Where's your boat?" and "You forgot the unicorns." I always expected that, because I was named Noah, God would come to me and command me to build a boat. At the age of thirteen, I learned everything there was to know about gopherwood (it didn't take long considering there's no such thing).

Now, it turns out that Noah was the wrong Biblical name for me. I'm clearly more important than the savior of all life on Earth. I'm a more important savior: the kind that resurrects.

I had suffered for the sins of extraordinary people, but out of the love in my heart (mostly just dramatic hesitation), I refrained from unwarranted violence. I did not shoot Mohinder, or Bob. And I merely wounded Elle. Sure, this allowed me to be killed. But I was fine with that.

I fulfilled my prophecy without complaint. It was a good death. I could have lived with it.



But you can't keep a good salesman down. I resurrected, and so I'm back. And that means there's going to be Hell to pay.