By Nate Odenkirk and Nathan Mostow | Staff Writers
Adapted from The Book of Luke.
One day, a weary traveler was walking on a road alone when he was jumped by two men. They stole everything: his money, his possessions, and even the clothes on his back. The two perpetrators then beat the man very badly before running off into the distance. Inches from death, and with no one to call upon in this foreign land, the man was hoping, praying that someone would heed his call for help.
A priest passed by but didn’t look at the man.
A Levite passed by and said he didn’t want to help.
But then, a very special person happened across the man.
“Sir, I am about to die. Please help me, sir! What is your name?” Asked the man.
“I’m a great Samaritan—one of the best, really, the Best Samaritan. I say best because nobody’s ever seen a better one, so you know what that means… Everyone says I’m A+ when it comes to Samaritan, but they won’t report on it, it’s wrong. They treat me so horribly. Why, who are you? You look terrible,” said the Best Samaritan.
“I am a traveler, sir. I need help, very badly.”
The Best Samaritan scowled. “Travelers are nasty people. Very nasty. They come into Samaria from their shithole countries… they bring all kinds of problems. Look at you. No clothes, even. What a total loser!”
As the Best Samaritan began to walk away, the man quickly said, “I was robbed and beaten, sir! Please help me.”
The Best Samaritan perked up. “CRIME? Was it crime? I hate crime, you know.”
“I’m the law and order Samaritan.”
“Who did this to you? Antifa? MS-13? Both at once, even?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“MS-13 then. They’re very dangerous, they kill women, children. Men, too. Horrible, you know, we say ‘build the wall,’ you know, ‘the wall?’ You love it… ”
“Yes. Well, sir, regardless, if you could please help me get to an inn? There is one down the road, just there.”
The Best Samaritan considered this. “Okay, I’ll help you out. Maybe they’ll put me in the Bible. I love the Bible. Great book, number one. But first I want you to do us a favor though.”
“Sir? I have nothing to offer. I was robbed of my belongings.”
“Tough luck, too bad! You seem like a good guy but, quite frankly, it’s charity. And I don’t do charity. I do deals, it’s called a deal do-er.” said the very Best Samaritan. He smiled at the dying man and turned. Just before the Best Samaritan vanished, he reconsidered, almost as if his conscience at that moment had caught up with him.
The Best Samaritan paused for a few moments of deep reflection, before saying to the man: “Did you vote for me?” ♦