Handing over the paper to Bart, JC knelt in the sand facing the center of the rough clam shell his friends had formed to grab some pizza before certain someones ate it all. Leaving a spot for Judas, he spoke excitedly about his new vision for the Twelve and for their work. It sounded a little like the fake but had bitten him, but JC was usually the most down to Earth guy here and no one suspected that the little bit of fame he had on Tiwtter had done much to his ego. What he spoke about was spreading the message. It was almost like he was going to try to convince the country to open their eyes to the occupation. To teach them to help themselves and to help others. He wanted to spread his message. He wanted Rome to leave, peacefully.

It had worked for Martin Luther King Jr. It had worked for Ghandi in India. Why couldn't it work for them?

Never mind that both of those leaders were brutally killed.... Their messages lived on.

"We will travel across our country. We'll speak to whomever will listen. We'll help the needy along the way. And maybe we'll go as far as Jerusalem one day. But we have a lot of work to do. We have a tour bus to fix up and to make our home. And a Kickstarter campaign to start for materials and food and fuel along the way.... I need all of you with me for this. You're my Twelve. You're my chosen."