The Virgin Mary, quite pregnant, settled into a rough bed of hay as Joseph poked around in the dark to see what could be done with this stable that they had come upon in the night.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed, as he smacked his head on a low wooden beam. "Oh, that's a nice name for the baby", said Mary. "I like it better than 'Sh'mu'elo'."
Still seeing a bright star, Joseph looked around a little more carefully in the dark for something that could be used as a bed for the newborn; a box, a place to hang a little cradle, something. He sat down on a manger to think this over. As the rusty exposed nail pierced his buttock, Joseph shrieked, "Christ!"
"That would make a great last name", said Mary. "You know he can't have your last name, Joseph. It didn't work that way. Oh, and 'Joey Jr.' is definitely out!"
Joseph pried himself out of the manger and moved towards the door of the stable to clear his thoughts and to assess his wounded rear. The moon hung low and bright in the doorway, so Joseph didn't see the rake laying in the hay. Not until the handle swung-up under his footstep and smacked him in the forehead. "Oh Goddamn Jesus Christ!!", yelled Joseph.
"No… too pretentious…", said Mary sleepily. ”
—Scott Garside, Woodinville, Washington