When I opened this theme park all those years ago, all I had was a little cash and a big dream: to create a place where visitors could come and, even if only for a few hours, experience the presence of our one and only messiah. But now look at what I’ve done — the power grid is down, the tourists are terrified, and the Jesus I cloned from a mosquito trapped in amber is running rampant through the facilities! Oh, woe is me.
Was it hubris that led me to extract the Son of God’s DNA from a fossilized mosquito and use it to recreate his presence in a state-of-the-art offshore edutainment center? I certainly don’t think so. All I ever wanted was to create a vacation getaway the whole family could enjoy, parents and kids alike, bonding with one another over the shared experience of seeing Jesus of Nazareth in various simulated recreations of his natural environment. But clearly, things have taken a turn for the worse.
In my defense, I worked hard to ensure the integrity of the facilities. But when I cloned Jesus, he came out far more clever than my team of geneticists predicted. In hindsight, it was only a matter of time before he figured out the recharge pattern of the electric fence around his pen, and from there all he had to do was cross the moat before escaping into the park. Was a moat the best way to contain a man notorious for walking on water? Looking back, clearly not, and I accept full responsibility for not realizing that sooner.
This was a well-intentioned dream, built on the purest of ideals. But now that the whole thing’s gone to shit, there’s simply no denying the raw numbers: 14 tourists injured, 5 security personnel dead, and exactly 0 Jesuses left in the Jesus Enclosure. Looks like I’ve made quite a mess of things, haven’t I?
Oh, drat; I’ve just been informed that security on the Judas Iscariot Kids Learning Center has been compromised and that a pack of feral Judases is heading this way now. Christ, this whole thing really was a horrible idea, wasn’t it.