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Jesus Is My Flat Mate, I Kid You Not!

Jesus Is My Flat Mate, I Kid You Not!

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Jesus Is My Flat Mate, I Kid You Not!

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Sep 29, 2013


Thomas was in a quandary. Actually it was more than just a quandary. He was actually sitting on the proverbial edge of an abyss with his bare ass hanging over into the murky darkness of eviction and waving goodbye to his occupancy. His rent was due the week after next and he didn’t have the funds to pay for it so he comes up with a plan. He needed a roomie, it was simple. No weirdo’s, yes he certainly had to screen out the weirdo’s, no nasty habits, absolutely no stoners and also no out-patients from any form of rehabilitation centres.

Without delay Thomas puts up his "roommate wanted" ad in his local Londis grocery store and waits for the call. No sooner had he done this then his mobile rings and a man with a definite queer foreign twang to his voice claiming to be Jesus (Not Hey-Zeus) calls to ask for the shelter.

Thomas agrees to let Jesus stay at the apartment so long as he considers wearing some underwear, tames his eyebrows and doesn’t go crazy with the toilet roll. From that day forth the usually mundane and predictably boring life of Thomas is changed forever as their opposite worlds collide. One is the apparent divine central figure in Christian belief here on a short sabbatical preaching the message of God whereas the other is a devout atheist and no amount of evidence or reasoning will convince him he’s wrong and who believes Jesus is nothing more than a foreign migrant experiencing life in a multi-cultural UK probably abusing our visa system and looking for a good time.

So begins a journey of discovery for them both and a series of events which will challenge Thomas’s rather flaky views and knowledge of religion and for Jesus an awakening to the uncomfortable truth that the world really has moved on and appears to be coming apart at the seams.

Sep 29, 2013

Sobre el autor

Sebastian H. Alive is a Purchasing Manager by day, controlling and manipulating the world’s economy while brainwashing the gullible masses. By evening he is father to two demonic minions that the devil is too embarrassed to be associated with and by night he writes stories.

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Jesus Is My Flat Mate, I Kid You Not! - Sebastian H. Alive

Jesus is my flatmate, I kid you not!

By Sebastian H. Alive

License Notes

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2015 Sebastian H. Alive


Cheerios are food of the gods. Try some, seriously…

What is this delicious feast you have put before me? asked Jesus as he shoveled a spoonful of the cereal into his gaping mouth.

Thomas paused with the thickly spread toast hovering before his parted lips.


Jesus nodded and thought for a moment, before shoveling another heaped spoonful into his mouth.

It is very good, he said crunching a little between his words. Is it a popular food around here?

I guess so, replied Thomas watching as milk dribbled down his chin and into his scraggly brown beard.

Then why don’t you eat the Cheerios?

Thomas blinked a few times at the loud smacking chews that followed and tore a large chunk from his toast.

I like toast and marmalade,

Jesus mixed the Cheerios that he was eating around the bowl and pointed at the cereal with a frown on his face.

And this white liquid is produced from the mammary glands of animals, yes? he asked nodding at the jug on the table.

It’s called semi-skimmed milk,

Then this thing you call Cheerios is made from what exactly?

Lowering the toast Thomas pulled the cereal box over to him in a frankly irritated way and scanned the edge of the packaging.

It contains whole grain oats, whole grain wheat, barley, whole grain rice, whole grain maize, sugar and wheat starch, and that’s pretty much it,

Bowl in hand Jesus stood up and grabbed the cereal box and peered inside at the contents.

These are oats?

Yes, sort of,

This is produce from the ground? But how do they make it taste so delicious?

Clasping the box tightly against his chest Jesus returned to his seat at the breakfast table and poured himself another healthy measure of Cheerios, before dousing them in milk and then wolfing heaped spoonfuls down at an alarming rate.

I like Cheerios very much, he said raising his dripping spoon to the heavens.

It was at that moment Thomas realized three things of great importance. Number 1, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God was his flat mate. 2, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God very much enjoyed Cheerios and 3, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God had a mono-brow of biblical proportions.

Have you ever tried Coco Pops? asked Thomas wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

Tilting the bowl to his lips Jesus slurped the remainder of the milk from his bowl, belched and then pushed it towards Thomas.

Bring me this thing you call Coco Pops,

With a sigh Thomas got up from his chair and walked over to the kitchen cupboards and reached up to select the cereal before returning to the breakfast table.

Help yourself! said Thomas plonking the box down before him and pushing back his bowl. Just a warning though, you need to eat pretty fast or the milk turns chocolaty,

Jesus eyed the cereal box suspiciously, nudging it away with his fingertips.

This beast on the front, what sort of demon is he? he asked.

That’s Coco the monkey, he’s their mascot,

You feed me animal flesh? said Jesus outraged. In the name of the Lord I will strike down those that attempt to poison me,

It’s just puffed rice Jesus, with chocolate cocoa covering,

Opening the tab on the cardboard box he looked inside for a moment before pouring a measure into his used bowl. Bending low Jesus sniffed the contents, arched an eyebrow and flattened it down in the bowl to make even more room, before adding some milk.

I like this Coco Pops,

Thomas stared at the churned up mess in his mouth and sank his head into his hands wondering how exactly he’d come to be in this predicament.

It had all started 3 days ago…..


…3 days before

Divine intervention with a wad of cash that could choke a mule…

Thomas was in a quandary. Actually it was more than just a quandary. He was actually sitting on the proverbial edge of an abyss with his bare ass hanging over into the murky darkness of eviction and waving goodbye to his occupancy.

His rent was due the week after next and he didn’t have the funds to pay for it. In fact it was due on the Monday so he needed to get the money into the bank before the end of next week to cover the standing order. The obvious answer to his dilemma was that he desperately needed cash to pay the rent and he needed it fast.

His landlord, Mr. Rubens was a mean-tempered little man with a rub-on tan and patience to match his size in stature, which in fairness wasn’t a lot. The thing about Mr. Rubens was that he absolutely hated late payers, and in turn Thomas hated being late and having to forever explain himself. In truth they didn’t really have a very good landlord – tenant relationship.

Feeling particularly brave this morning Thomas thought he'd test the waters when he bumped into Mr. Rubens in the hallway, and if ever the boundaries of their relationship needed reaffirming, then this was it.

Morning Mr. Rubens, said Thomas cheerfully.

His landlord glared at him suspiciously, like he knew that the next words he would hear from Thomas would be something along the lines of ‘Sorry Mr. Rubens, it’s been a tough month and rent will be late,’ and he truly, truly detested hearing that.

Of course Mr. Rubens wasn’t wrong in his thinking, but all Thomas was doing was exploring the feasibility that his landlord may actually possess a modicum of generosity in his blackened soul.

You want something? grunted Mr. Rubens looking up at him.

Thomas put on his best most reassuring smile, a smile that said ‘trust me, I’m an honest sort of guy and everything will be fine,’

Well? he barked raising his voice a couple of octaves. If you have a question just blurt it out, but remember what I always say to you, don’t overestimate your worth in my life and take comfort from that fact,

Licking his lips Thomas hesitated and in doing so lost his momentum. Mr. Rubens enjoyed going overboard emotionally.

I uhm…was just wondering hypothetically what would happen if I didn't make rent this month?

Mr. Rubens steepled his little fingers together and pursed his lips.

Hypothetically? he mused.

Yes hypothetically,

Well, hypothetically speaking, and may I just add that I’m thrilled by the sheer number of times I’ve been asked this, so hypothetically, if you didn't keep close track of your expenditures and my rent was late again, then I would take immense pleasure in evicting you. As a landlord of some repute around these parts, with a certain status to uphold, I would also pursue you in a small claims court for any outstanding rent. I would also take any possessions you leave and sell for what little resale value I can get and also keep your entire deposit. Does that answer our little hypothetical question?

A very detailed answer, Mr. Rubens, said Thomas tapping his chin thoughtfully. And I suppose there’s no alternative hypothetical solution?

Let me take into consideration the fact that there’s a very clear and undisputed pattern of evidence here that suggests to me that you’re running short on money this month. Now you know, as does every other privileged tenant I have, that if I allow my tenants to be late, they of course will be late. Your only purpose in life is to give me money and in turn this makes me happy and less likely to want to end your insignificant existence. So, with that in mind is my rent going to be late this month?

No not all, snorted Thomas.

This is good to hear to my ears, said Mr. Rubens nodding. This is very good indeed,

Turning on his fat ankles his landlord waddled back down the hallway until he’d gone from view.

Oh crap! muttered Thomas.

It was at that point Thomas had an epiphany, sort of. It started off as a random thought straight out-of-the-blue which then grew into hope and he raised a brow as he contemplated it.

That could work, he said to himself with a smug grin on his face.

It was a sudden answer to his awful predicament and should it work it would bring an end to his worries and there would be no more sitting on the edge of the abyss with his white buttocks exposed, hopefully.

He needed a roomie, it was simple. Preferably a roomie with a month’s rent in advance and wanting to move as soon as possible. No weirdo’s, yes he certainly had to screen out the weirdo’s, no nasty habits, absolutely no stoners and also no out-patients from any form of rehabilitation centers. What would be fantastic would be a roomie that travelled 50% of the time and slept the remainder and understood that crossword puzzles really should only be done in private. It made perfect sense after all. He lived in a reasonable size flat in Greater Manchester in a nice enough area. He had a kitchen area; seating and dining room area all open plan and at a stretch could offer maybe a small nightstand as an incentive.

So later that day Thomas strolled up to his local Londis grocery store and up went the roommate wanted ad. He couldn't afford to rely on expensive advertising to attract potential roomies, so he pleaded with the Hindu shopkeeper Vikram Jamal, which was his proper name but everyone calls him Vik, to allow him to put the advert in the shop window next to the Golden Curry Restaurant takeaway menu.

Young man, said Vik as he was blue-tacking the advertisement to the inside of the glass. If you get nice young woman you be sure to bring her to me,

Sure, replied Thomas.

Vikram was desperate to follow in his dads footsteps and create a convenience store empire and be at the epicenter of milk, bread, beverage and frozen goods excellence. But as much as he was ambitious, he was equally lonely. Vik was almost 50 now and since he wasn’t well blessed with looks and always tended to carry a smell of masala his chances of meeting a girl were receding as fast as his hairline. Despite his entrepreneurial qualities he was also a raging pervert which probably best explained why he was single.

But to Thomas he was just Vik from down the road and truth be told he found something comforting in that warm masala smell that always lingered around him.

Thanks Vic, said Thomas raising a hand to signal he was leaving.

Bring that tight ass round to Vik’s, he shouted from across the counter with a wide yet uncomfortably creepy smile on his face.

Yes, it was probably more a creepy smile of anticipation than one of genuine warmth but all the same Thomas now had his advertisement up and now all he had to do was wait and accept the very first person who was prepared to write a bloody quick cheque out.

I’ll be sure to do that, see you again, he shouted back to Vik.

No sooner had he returned to his flat then his mobile rang in his pocket making him jump and causing him to utter a ridiculously girly squeal. This was it, he was sure of it. If money could ever make a sound then this was most certainly it. The person on the end of the line was his financial parachute, his safety net to keeping a roof over his head and ensuring that his bills would be paid on time.

Thomas paced round the flat a few times, taking a deep calming breath then realized he had not got a clue how he would interview his potential roommate and hadn’t really thought that far ahead.

Bugger, he thought to himself.

But sometimes in life you just have to make it up as you go along with no idea how it will come out, so Thomas pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and pressed answer.

Hello, he said hesitantly into the handset. You’re through to Thomas,

Hello Thomas, replied the voice with a definite queer foreign twang. I am Jesus,

Hi there Hey-Zeus, I know a Mexican guy at the car wash called that, replied Thomas pleasantly.

Yes, I am he,

You’re Hey-Zeus? asked Thomas sounding a little disappointed.

He wasn’t really sure exactly what he was looking for in a roomie but being a car wash attendant suggested he wasn’t exactly flush with cash, but saying that Thomas had seen lots of fancy cars going through that machine so maybe he supplemented his wage in tips.

No, I am Jesus,

Oh…you mean with a J like that guy who was nailed to a plank?

Yes, yes, I am he,

Like that fellow who did all the miracles and stuff in the olden days?

Yes, I am him,

Marvelous name, quite popular these days, said Thomas without absolutely no clue if his words had foundation. Say, are you ringing about the ad for the roommate?

Yes, I ring for the shelter,

Okaaaay, Jesus, said Thomas stroking his chin thoughtfully.

He wasn’t so sure he wanted to room with a foreigner but he was in a hole and had to dig himself out somehow even if he might have got himself a bit of a suspected weirdo here.

So Jesus, just some simple questions for you to answer and we’ll see where we go from there. Okay, so I’m looking for someone trustworthy and who can afford to pay their share of the rent on time, so are you currently in work at the moment?

I ring for the shelter, that is true,

Yes, yes, I know Jesus and it’s not really a shelter as such, it’s got so much more going on but what I wanted to know is what you do for work,

I am a carpenter by trade,

Oh right! Does that pay well?

I got one denarius and a pig for my last work, said Jesus proudly.

Riiiiiight…okay Jesus, well I’m not really looking for livestock if you get my meaning. Tell me have you any criminal convictions at all?

I was once arrested in Jerusalem and tried in a Jewish Court but it was all a big misunderstanding with a terrible outcome,

Thomas pursed his lips and sighed. It wasn’t going particularly well and maybe he ought to lower his expectations a touch. The man sure sounded a little different but maybe it was just a culture thing and he could still have a chance to redeem himself despite having a criminal record.

Yeah, that’s not really a big deal is it? Happens all the time out there I heard. Just out of curiosity, you’re not prone to bursts of violence at all are you?

No, no, I am a pacifist and believe in love not hate,

That’s good then, but you’re not too heavy on the love side are you? You’re not one of them tree-hugging, save-the-world and clothe the little babies activists are you?

What are these words you use, I don’t understand?

Never mind, Jesus, said Thomas. I just don’t want things to get awkward between us if you know what I mean? Like handling the whole food situation, what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours, okay? I don’t want to get into one of those ‘Hey, we’ve got a problem type of thing,’ do you get me?

Get me?

No, I meant get me. See its little things that bug me, like I don’t go crazy with the toilet paper. I’m a folder not a buncher and I reckon with a good quality toilet roll we can see a week through with just one, maybe two rolls at most. Is that fair?

That is fair, said Jesus.

Good, you sound like a reasonable chap so why don’t you swing by the flat and take a viewing later today. The address is Manor Road and we’re in the Fairhill flats and I’m at number 7. I’m in all day so pop round whenever, okay? Oh, and if you can bring any references from any previous roommates and landlords that would be great,

I will see you soon,

Bye now,

The phone went dead in his ear and Thomas stared at it for a long moment thinking carefully.

‘Did that telephone interview go well?’ he thought.

He didn’t know really and truthfully the man did give off some definite probable whiffs of weirdness. But it was too wonderful an opportunity to pass up given his need for a quick source of cash.

‘Oh well, guess that I’ll see what he’s really like when he shows up,’ thought Thomas putting his phone back into his pocket.

Letting his eyes wander around the flat he realized that it really was in disarray and quite untidy. There were cluttered piles of clothes hanging over the edge of the chair, shoes kicked off at the front door, unwashed pots, a blown light-bulb, an overflowing bin which had also contributed to the empty pizza boxes on the kitchen side and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in an age. He was also pretty sure he’d left a decent sized yet delightful stain residue on the toilet bowl.

Yes, it was untidy that was for sure and an untidy flat reflects an untidy lifestyle, so Thomas decided he’d start cleaning up before his potential roommate arrived. But no sooner had his fingers brushed the clothes

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