On some rocks outside the Holy City, 33 A.D. Mary Magdalene is eating an apple with a knife.
PETER: Do you think he knows how to count?
MARY MAGDALENE: Excuse me?
PETER: Jesus. Do you think he knows how to count?
MARY MAGDALENE: Peter, he’s the fucking son of god.PETER: Noooo, you’re fucking the son of god! AY-O, UP TOP! Offers hand for a high-five.
MARY MAGDALENE: I will poison your loaves and fishes.
PETER: Fair enough. But you know how he said he’d be back in three days, right?
MARY MAGDALENE: Uh huh.
PETER: Ok, so he kicked the bucket Friday, we cried about it Saturday, and Sunday morning, he just pops up again like it ain’t no thang but a chicken wang.
MARY MAGDALENE: You’re overthinking this.
PETER: I AM NOT. Look, three days is like, Friday to Saturday, Saturday to Sunday, Sunday to Monday. If he were the Son of God, which tbh I’m still not sure about, he would come back Monday morning, not Sunday morn- ing, like he said, because he would know how to COUNT TO THREE.
MARY MAGDALENE: No. He said he would be back on the THIRD DAY.
PETER: Sunday is still not the third day! It is the second!
MARY MAGDALENE: Oh my God-
PETER: iswhatyouscreameverynightwithJesus. AY-O, UP TOP!
Offers hand for a high-five. Mary Magdalene grabs it and flips him over her back like a professional wrestler. Points the knife at him, foot on his chest.PETER: Jesus Christ!
MARY MAGDALENE: Don’t be a punk, Peter! We’ve got bigger problems than if Jesus can count. Now, shut up about what I do with my own body - not very Christ-like, ya feel?
MARY MAGDALENE: Yes what?
PETER: Yes, ma’am.
Mary Magdalene releases her hold on him. Fixes her head veil. Begins walk- ing offstage while finishing her apple. Peter catches his breath.
END OF PLAY.