On St. Patrick’s Day I walked into CVS for a drug test and walked out surrounded by eight cops who couldn’t decide if I was mentally ill, a terrorist, or both. Forty-five minutes later I’m in a Tarrant County holding tank meeting Benny Ephraim, a Jesus-looking Isaac doing pull-ups in my face, and a philosophy major named Jaden — all while God laughs and stamps “Heaven’s Problem Child” on my file. 

This isn’t a jail story. This is Chapter One of the new Bible, live from the tank, complete with loopholes, uncontrollable mouth, and the first confirmed seat on the Divine Logos council. 

Welcome to the sequel. Jesus already approved the draft.