What if God was one of us?

What if Jesus was some guy you met in a bar and brought back to your flat but you couldn't have sex with him because you weren't really over the incest that happened with your brother after your parents were both dead so you spent all of your time cutting your arms and freaking out on your new job as a guide in a planetarium, but then as it turns out Jesus is a really nice guy who gives his shoes away and can cook (fish naturally) so then you wash his feet.

I could go on but why? This is the partial plot of The Third Day which was a train wreck. It is so hard for me to believe that at some point someone did not say: If we have incest and orphans and cutting and Jesus, maybe we don't need the last supper scene with Elvis and the birthday cake.

The picture is of people eating lunch in Bloomsbury Square yesterday.