You came riding on a donkey. Who rides on an ass, really.
I mean, where's the grand entrance? That's not showing power and authority. You gotta come with a cool ride. Ferrari. Lamborghini. Okay, maybe an Audi or BMW. Coming in on an ass is like... driving a second hand kancil. Or puttering in on a kapchai.
Like, dude. At least spend some money on a good quality horse, okay. Doesn't need to be a pedigree race horse.
The look's the thing, man. You're supposed to be Royalty. Well, at least the descendent of royalty. There needs to be some kind of splash, you know. Otherwise who would know who you are?
Though... I think they knew. Well, at least the kids thought they knew. But who believes kids? Who believes those simple kampung people all crowding into town for the Festival? It's not as if they were scholars. It's not as if they'd actually studied the Torah or Bible or whatever you call those Holy Scriptures.
It's the city people, the urban folk, who've got it together. The scholars in the temple who've studied this over and over again. I mean, man, if you have a message you've gotta speak to the intellectuals, the ones who knows where it's at - people listen to them, okay.
Not like Charlie down the road who doesn't know the difference between resurrection and zombies.
It all looks the same right? People coming back from the dead?
And yeah. Rising from the dead. Pretty cool.
But not dying is kind of like cooler.
I don't know, man.
Maybe you're not cut out for hero-hood.
You're not really the kind of hero they're looking for.
You don't have the style. And that's really important.