The Bible II: Jesus in Space!
Written by: Doctor Zombie, Lala, Wanda, Danman, M. Casey.
Edited by Damian K.
Yes, finally a sequel to the best seller ever written. Well, the best seller in that BILLIONS of free and unwanted copies are given away every day, but that KINDA counts as being a bestseller.
Anyways....
Big excessive productions featuring:
A book by Doktor Zombi
staring Nicholas Cage and Nichole Kidman in
The Bible II: Jesus in Space!
Nicholas Cage as Jesus
Samuel L. Jackson as Peter
Nichole Kidman as Mary Magdalene
Alan Alda as God
Susan Sarrandon as The Virgin Mary
Halle Berry as Kali
Lawrence Fishburn as Police Officer
Lorenzo Llammas as Air Traffic Controller
Iman as Lucinda, Queen of Space
Mary Kate Olsen as Bébé, Jesus' daughter
Greg Kinnear as Don Mad Scientist
Ashley Olsen as Mimi, Bébé's evil clone
Mel Gibson as Grant VonLangslow, Vampire
And various other guest stars that are to pathetic to list
Soundtrack featuring: Moby, Garbage, No Doubt, Seal, Puff Daddy, U2, TLC, Green Day, Smashing Pumpkins, Missy Eliot, David Bowie, Metallica, Rage Against the Machine, Marilyn Manson, The Artist, and The Spice Girl's hit single "Yea Jesus, go on an' kick 'em right good in the knickers" is available at Towers© and Virgin MegaSuperGiantMart©
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It was a hot, wet, steamy morning when Jesus woke up. He found this odd, because he was vacationing in Antarctica. He realized that this was a rather stupid place to vacation, but before he could gather insight into this, Peter ran into his room. "Jesus, Jesus, put on a shirt! The Universe is in trouble man!"
Jesus shot a lightning bolt at Peter for his impertinence and grabbed his trusty 45. He decided not to put on a shirt, since all the ladies loved his sexy, sexy abs.
He and Peter went into the video conferencing room Bill Gates had built for them in return for becoming the richest man in the universe. As usual, it was a call from God. Mary Magdalene, Jesus' sexy but intelligent right hand woman came in wearing her super bullet-proof mercenary suit, which looked suspiciously like the "tender teddy" from last month's Victoria's Secret catalog, except it had a impact charge cannon taped to the back.
"Hey guys" she said coyly, using the maximum of her sexiness and intelligentness. Peter rolled his eyes and ignored Jesus' and Mary M's awkward sexual chemistry.
God's face faded onto the screen. His omnipotence took a great deal of time to load, so they went off and killed some heathen communists. By the time they came back God was ready to give his divine word.
"Hey, son, hey Pete and Mary. Say, I got a heckova screw-up here. Think ya' could help me out guys?"
Of course since disobeying God's word meant something very nasty would happen, so they all quickly and nervously said agreed to whatever God needed.
"Well, see, this other deity from one of those Asiatic pantheons has decided to destroy the world and rebuild it in her image. I would do something, but I'm needed in a refugee camp in Sudan. Think you can cover for me?"
Again, rembering the "Jonah" incident, all complied.
"Well, looks like it's another wacky adventure" said Jesus jovially as they boarded the Christcopter 700."
Well, little did our 3 amigos know, something had gone haywire in the Christcopter 700. As they were flying over Brazil, the CC700 went down!
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! (etc...)"
"Jesus Christ!!!! Lord Almighty!" Peter screamed.
"You called?" Jesus answered.
"No no no no, were all gonna die!" Peter screamed again.
"Where's your faith boy? Did I not walk on water? Did I not save your souls?" Jesus replied.
"Man, this has nothing to do with your healing powers or your walking capabilities." Peter shouted.
Pretty soon they all heard a huge CRASH! When they regained consciousness, they opened the door to the Christcopter 700. They were surrounded by dense jungle and the Christcopter was in ruins. "Oh man, my dads gonna KILL me." Jesus mumbled.
"Didn't he already sacrifice you for the world's sins?" asked Mary M.
Jesus looked at his feet, and whimpered. Peter slugged her. "Nice going, bringing that up." he hissed in her ear. Then he realized that they were in an obscure South American region, meaning Jesus' mother probably was appearing somewhere near by.
Sure enough, a gaggle of old ladies with prayer candles started walking by them on thier way to Soã Francisco. They followed them to a Llama ranch where the Virgin Mary was appearing to a young peasant girl AGAIN.
"Hiya ma" said Jesus. People noticed him and fell at his feet, weeping a praying making him feel all awkward. Celebrities HATE making a big entrance.
"Oh, Jesus, what a lovely surprise. You hardly visit anymore." she said, giving a tight little smile to the blessed fruit of her womb. "Well, Yea, I'm really busy, ya know I'd love to see you more..." He began sweating profusely. The Virgin Mary's smile tightened. "To busy to call me? To send a letter?"
Peter and Mary Magdalene sneaked off. Jesus' mom was not a pretty sight when she was pissed off. Pilgrims followed them and built a shrine to them while they had some smokes.
"And am I going to see grandkids anytime soon? *Mohamed's* mother had grandkids."
"Mom, enough about Mohamed. I'm NOT Mohamed."
"Oh, Of course not. Mohamed can take some time to send his mother a letter every now and then."
This colorfulness continued until the Virgin Mary finally could be persuaded to cough up some airplane tickets (Virgin Atlantic, what else?).
When Peter, Mary and of course the Savior arrived they discovered something horrible...Peter's luggage was missing! "Oh, great… First the Christcopter incident, then the Stewardess accident , and now we lost the luggage that was carrying our spending money!!" , Jesus was obviously not having a good day.
"Ohh... and I suppose that's all my fault?" Peter retorted, "You and your Holier-than-thou attitude!"
"Would you guys just get off each others backs??" Mary reasoned, utilizing her charisma to the fullest Mary continued "and what DID happen with peter and that stewardess?"
Will the Trio break up? Can Mary get the two Jet lagged friends back together? What is the mysterious Stewardess incident? Will Jesus ever meet Larry*? These questions to be answered in the next installment of "The Bible 2: Jesus in Space"
*- Jesus was the first son of God; the 2nd born: Larry, was the product of God and the Grecian pantheon in a series of events to boring and/or explicit to add here.
*****commercial break******
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*******and now, back to our show*******
Suddenly, a burglar alarm sounded. They realized that the 22½ bank was being robbed. "Come on guys, this is now time to fight! Were the...um, we never really thought up a name for our team. But we need to stick together to save the world and all it's sinners!"
"Alright" said Peter. "Yeah!" said Mary M. in her sexy/intelligent woman way of always agreeing with whatever the men said.
They ran into a bank just in time to stop the burglar (He had been slowed down by the irresistible security cameras)
"Today wasn't you lucky day, punk." said Jesus as he swung his Zen handblade of doom directly at the villain's larynx. Peter kneed the thief's groin "Have a nice day-in PAIN" he laughed as the criminal went down. To motivate everybody, Mary M. did a cute little dance.
"Well, we made short work of that loser" said Jesus, patting Peter on the back. "Yea man. that punk would a learned that ours is the God of persecution" he replied. "Uh-huh" Mary M. murmured, tired from her choreographed number.
"Hey, wasn't there something we had to do?" she suddenly realized.
"Uh, yeah," said Jesus said. "I think Dad said something about an Asiastic panther that wanted to take over the world."
Mary raised an eyebrow. "An Asiastic panther? Are you sure that's what he said?"
Jesus didn't want to screw up his omnipotent image so he faked self-assurance and replied "Yeah, I'm sure. Wasn't I right about that cock thing? Eh, Peter?"
Peter blushed. "Uh, what cock thing?"
"You know," Jesus answered. "About the cock crowing three times!"
Mary gave the both of them a look of disgust. "I don't want to know about it." she said, putting her hand over her face.
Jesus smiled, thinking, 'That's Mary all over. She never wants to admit she's wrong, even when she is arguing with an all-powerful, studly kinda guy like myself.'
Mary, being the intelligent, sexy, Woman-Woman clone that she was, got them all back on topic.
"So....shall I check to see if the Asiastic panther is an endangered species? If it is, we can't beat it up."
"Okay." Jesus said. Mary dialed up the number for the soul of Albert Einstein, who was slightly more all-knowing than God. Unfortunately she got his answering machine:
"Hello, zis iz Albert Einstein... If you have invented something to tame my hair, press 1, If you would like me to run for President of Uganda to eliminate hatred, poverty and make children from around the world stand on a hill, holding candles and singing "If I Could Buy The World a Coke", press 2. I trust I can rely on your vote. If you would like to know if there is a Fishie Heaven, press 3. Thank you and goodbye."
Mary panicked and pressed 3. 'Hello," the answering machine said. "There is no such thing as fishie heaven. Instead, the floaters reincarnate as Pepperidge Farm 'Goldfish' which are enjoyed by millions of people from around the universe."
With this mystifying question unmystified, Mary was satisfied to return her attentions to the mission.
Jesus, Peter and Mary were about to do some groovy 70's dances, but then the sleazy TV producers rolled the credits and they knew that another riveting episode of Jesus In Space had to come to an end.
But remember to tune in same Jesus time, same Jesus channel for JESUS IN SPACE!!!!
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(In a effort to establish more marketable characters, we now go to Calcutta, India, where Kali is planning to take over the world from her temple headquarters)
"Hahaha" the Wicked Kali laughed as she ran her fingernails along the blackboard. "Wickedness is fun!" she then looked at her assortment of collectable accesories: her Kalimobile, her Kalicoppter (to hell with those who said it was just The ChristCoppter with a skull superglued on it. The budget was just a little tight, that's all. So they had to reuse a few props but...) there's also the Kalirang and Kaliblade, Kalilasso and KaliNail-polish (produced by Urban Decay), the lil'Kali Halloween costume, her video game, cookbook, and assortment of plush toys. Wheaties also had a promotional tie-in by inserting KaliKollectableKards in their cereal boxes. Get all six!!!
Kali was pleased with her well-stocked memorabilia. But just in case her character didn't sell to well overseas, she decided to make some more. The KaliStationary set, the KaliMousepad, and Kali-handheld-minifan were just some of her ideas.
Suddenly, her dumb but loveable lackeys came in. Their names were Grant and Don. Grant was not only the original drummer for Gwar, but he was also a Vampire. Well, he at least claimed he was a Vampire, and rationalized this by changing his last name from Knielander to VonLandslow.
Her other lackey was Don, the Mad Scientist. He actually had a normal score on the Minneapolis Personality Test, but had also designed anthrax, so his sanity was sorta questionable. And he wasn't actually a scientist, he was a pharmacist, but if people didn't call him "Scientist" he would get a funny look in his eyes and stare at them until they did.
Kali grinned at her henchmen. "Tell me my pets, have you successfully killed Jesus and his little friends like I asked you too?" her henchmen waited until she was done talking to her kittens. "Stupid little felines, all you can do is sit and purr. I would skin you alive if you weren't so damned cute!" she howled as Dustball and Whiskers kneaded her lap, laid down, and fell asleep contentedly.
"Um, Kali" asked Don.
"Oh. Um, yes Don?" Kali asked, looking up from her kittens.
Don's face turned crimson, and he looked at Kali as if she wasn't there, not blinking.
"Um, Dr. Don" Kali hastily corrected herself.
Don's face relaxed "Well, maybe you should have me and Grant here kill Jesus. I just don't think plan A is working."
Grant suddenly looked at Don. "Hey Pal!" he qurped "Don't bring me into this!" but it was to late. Kali tapped her fingers together, slowly.
"Yes, to tell you the truth I'm getting increasingly dissatisfied with my "Cats of Death". I think I'll just have to wait until their older, and have teeth and claws, before I can use them to destroy anything other then the carpet. So I think that you and Don should take their place. I honorifically nominate you, Kittens of Doom."
Don and Grant were thrilled, and began to hunt down out the trio. Kali, in a soft motherly voice, tried to convince Whiskers to jump through a hoop.
Of course it was at this time that the loser with the remote flipped over to FOX and we missed the last 20 minutes of that episode, but, as a consolation we did get to see a good portion of Boy Meets World in which Corey learns a heart breaking lesson about Hamster care and Topanga and Sean vandalize the school in a lame attempt by FOX broadcasting to breath some life into their ratings. The ploy worked of course because its a known fact that FOX is backed by God...what can I say? The big guy likes his Prime time TV. And now for the next episode!
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****************back to our big shoe************************
Mary Magdalene was wandering through the streets of...well, I don't think anyone was exactly sure where they were. But she was running through the streets, looking for a zoologist.
Unfortunately, all she could find was snow, sheet rock, and nomadic tribesmen herding beats of burden around. But this could be Mongolia, Iceland, Latvia, or Antarctica. Or was Antarctica populated? If only she had taken that "Identification of Tundra and other survival tactics" course in "The Learning Annex", she would be so much better off. But no, she had foolishly opted for "How to Commit Espionage for Profit and Travel". Now she would never know how to find out more about the Asiatic panther. She sat down on the grey shale and cried, remaining intelligent and sexy in her vulnerability.
Suddenly, she realized she was being watched. Luckily, she did not need to worry about being undermedicated, because her stalker made his presence known. He was a tall, well-dressed man, possessing both great permed hair and manicured nails, so at first she was worried he might be a Backstreet Boy.
"Why are you crying, my child?" he asked, showing his interesting pointy eye teeth. Mary decided he might be a zoologist randomly wandering about, so she quickly asked "Is the Asiatic panther endangered?"
But our friendly vampire (Grant) could not answer in a psudeo-victorian response, so he instead grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her away. She noticed the tattoo on the back of his neck reading "GWAR4EVR" as she screamed for help, alternating from Latvian to Mongolian.
Unfortunately, Mary was terrible at languages. While she had meant to cry "Help me, please!" in Mongolian, in actuality she had said what would be roughly translated as "Meatloaf is a hearty dish.". At hearing this, the natives just thought she was a crazy foreigner and passed her by.
Grant pulled Mary into a shadowy building and tossed her up against a wall.
"What are you?" Mary asked, sounding as sexy, intelligent and defiant as she could under the circumstances.
"What do you think I am, dumb ass?" Grant smirked. "I'm a vampire. Didn't you see the shelf of Anne Rice books?"
Mary gasped. "Omigod, no, no! Not Anne Rice books!"
Grant laughed and said, "Yes that's right. Anne Rice books. I'm going to make you read every one of them!"
"Bite my neck! Please, just kill me and get it over with!" Mary pleaded but to no avail. Grant was without pity. He turned on the recording of 'Interview With A Vampire' and escaped through the building's back door.
Will our heroine escape the horrifying trap of the Anne Rice books or will she be doomed to a bloody, painful death as her brain cells are destroyed, one by one?
(now, in an effort to develop further commercially viable characters, we present Jesus' daughter, Bébé's introduction:)
Meanwhile, back home it was finally time for Troupe 47.2000009's annual summer campout and the girls were very excited. Their troupe leader, Gina the Jesuit nun, gave them each a list of what to bring. 'Don't forget your precious moments figurine and your rat!' it said. Friday morning, they dead in a Golf cart and by suppertime they had reached their campsite in Ürümai, Northwestern China.
Bébé and Bruce put up the tents while two other girls started supper. They killed blood pie over the fire and then made milk-flavored Jello for dessert. Soon it got dark and Bruce was a little scared. "What if there are zoologists in the woods?" she said. But Bébé said, "Don't worry. I'll protect you with my fluffy hammer and sickle. That will scare away the zoologists."
The girls stayed up telling razorblade suitcase stories until 4:20 PM when they finally fell asleep. Troupe 47.2000009's summer campout was a big success!
Then, To celebrate Kwanzaa, Troupe 47.2000009 decided to put on a play about a crack whore. First, they needed to choose their characters. Gina the Jesuit nun decided to be the Nightstaker, Bébé wanted to play Sylvia Plath and three other girls wanted to be the Three Billy-whales Bruce. "Now we need costumes," said Bébé. 'I'm going to wear my favorite invisible transparent and pumice stone color plaid miniskort.' 'We'll need 6 bear traps to be our whale horns!' said the other girls.
They practiced their play for 7734 days and then they were ready. The play was all about a crack whore and the Three Billy-whales Bruce even got to trip-trap across a poodle. At the end, everyone clapped very loudly and Troupe 47.2000009 was proud of its Kwanzaa celebration!
- -(MadLib server (no, were not laying off experienced human writers in favor of cheap computer labor. we're doing it for the customer. And skort is spelled right)
As the numerologically endowed troupe celebrated their racist production, BéBé saw a man in the background, a man in a white lab coat (as opposed to the men in neon green lab coats). Something disturbed her about this man...maybe it was the twitch in his eye. Maybe it was the Backstreet Boys album he was rubbing aganst his body. Maybe it was the fact he was reading "Scientology: A New Slant on Life" by L. Ron Hubbard.
Suddenly, Bébé was very scared. She ran up to Gina the Jesuit nun, but she was busy doing a cabaret act for the gents (just for troupe funding, of course). The man came closer and closer, unnoticed by the parents, youth counselors, security guards, secret police, and undercover mercenary ninjas wandering the premises.
Bébé decided to call her dad for help. She found the pay phone, but he was busy. She felt so sad, because it always seemed her daddy never had time for her. Even while saving the souls of the world, defeating Satan, and keeping the Red Commies at bay, she wanted a father so badly, and he was always late. This led to some mood shots with accompanying music of a young girl looking downtrodden and upset that her parent has deprived them.
Then Don snatched her.
"Hahaha" he laughed in a evil pharmacist/scientist way. "Now I'll clone Jesus' daughter, and program the clone to kill him. After all, he won't suspect his own very cute and easily marketable daughter of being a android psychopath, would he? Well...maybe. I don't really know the guy. But if it fails, I can always document as art and get a grant from the government. Hahahaha"
In an attempt to change the subject Darmon The Superfly flew in. He saw some very neat machines with flashing lights and there was the usual mad scientist ((well...pharmacists are people too!)) a very cute and very marketable little girl that bore a striking resemblance to that annoying Full House girl...he even saw the expensive looking machine that goes "beep" not that any of it mattered to him , he was a super hero... not a weirdo. But it did seem to matter to Bebe who spent her time crying, whining, and co-starring in "How the West as Fun" Don could barely stand it any longer when the time for the cloning neared....
The machines hummed as they came to life , the stereotypical lightning and thunder soon ensued , Bebe , which was at that point strapped down with her mouth shut with duct tape, wriggled around, and the machine that goes "beep" beeped...
As Darmon was transfixed to the red blinking lights, A blade connected to the FlyHunter540 shot through the air and bisected him like a hot knife through a buttered fly. In a interesting twist, the divided parts of his body fell into a tub of orange-glowing gel (He would have been pleased to be buried in something glowing, because he loved all thing that were luminescent)
Meanwhile, Don, who had been on a bathroom break, walked back into the lab.
"Hello Bébé." He smiled that universal smile of medical persons who love to cause pain. Were going to have some real fun. Have you ever been cloned? I bet not! Well, it's really super fun."
Bébé, who had been considering "A very Olsen Chanukah" , now got free of her gag, pleaded. "Mister, please let me go. I don't want to be cloned"
Don's expression collapsed. In a low, graveling voice spoke "I wouldn't call me "Mister", dear. I think you should call me "Doctor""
Bébé tried to escape for a few minutes, during which he stood perfectly still, string at her, and breathing heavily. Finally, Bébé repleaded "Doctor, please let me go. I don't want to be cloned.
Don's face bounced back to it's previous deranged happiness. "Great. Let's just take some spinal fluid and get things started!"
Then a bar came out of the ceiling and descended down to Bébé. When in was about 2 feet directly above her diaphragm, a needle came directly out of the center of the bar, and shot downward.
Bébé screamed at the lightning pain that hot through her and then up her spine.
Don looked displeased. "That's just not enough spinal fluid. We'll have to invade another vertebra." The needle extended, and for a moment Bébé relaxed, but the bar moved up to her lower abdomen. Then everything happened again. Bébé screamed and
squirmed. Don reprimanded her for having such little spinal fluid.
After 40 minutes of agony Don finally had completed enough spinal taps, he pulled a lever. A tube came out of the ceiling, and descended to the tub of shinny goo that held Darmon's remains.
It injected some yellowish fluid into the goo, presumably the 60% of Bébé spinal liquid.
A metal cover slid over the tub, and all was set. Don pushed another lever, and blue lightening shot down onto the tub.
"Errrrr" Bébé tried to say, very weak from the damage done to her spinal cord.
"Hahahahahaha" laughed Don.
"Gzzzzzzz" said the electrical current.
The charge stopped, and the metal coved receded. Out of the goo came a perfect duplicate of Bébé. The clone noticed her original and grinned. Then she saw Don.
"I want sugar. Sugar and dung." she requested.
"Sugar and dung?" don was obviously in a mixed state of happiness and concern...he was happy, this was his first time cloning a human (Yeah.. we'll give the Olsen brat the benefit of the doubt) and concern...he was fresh out of sugar.
And he was pretty much also out of dung- after all, this was a lab, not a fertilizer shop. "Well, technically, I could provide my own....NO!" he thought.
Then he remembered that he had plenty of saccharin that he had purchased in hopes of poisoning the water supply with the carcinogenic sweetener. With out any hesitation, he retrieved several giant pink envelope-packets.
"Here you go, hon. Hey it's really great that your going to help me take over the world, isn't it! I think I'll call you Mimi. Mimi was my girlfriend's dog's name. I had to kill it when she left me." He said, clumsily ripping open the containers of white, bittery sweet powder. Bébé's clone looked on, rubbing her hands together "Mmmmmm"she spoke cloneishly "I love sugar almost as I love dung and spoiled foodstuffs. All are excelent mediums for burying newly-laid larva in"
Like a mountain of snow at a colossal Don's feet, the sugar waited. The clone christened Mimi lept at it, making "zzzzzz" sounds. As she lapped it up, a strange change came over her, a psychological change of the utmost importance in our story:
Saccharin: Sugar substitute known to be dangerously carcinogenic in large doses. Also interferes with nervous system in hyper-gestated clones. See also, asperine.
-Stanfnord Guide to biomedical science in low-cal substitutes
Indeed, Mimi began to sway her head. Before Don's eyes, her body was being ravaged by the deadly sugar. It found her nerve cells and clung to them, with a chemical reaction that produced her medulla to quicken with fear. Her brain became drugged with base, animal urges.
Bébé awoke temporarily. "Not SACHRIN!!!!! Yoooouuuuu fooooooooollll!!!!" she screamed before falling into a spinal trauma-induced coma.
A single bead of sweat rolled down Don's face, gracefully, a salty iceberg.
Mimi lolled her eyes back and screamed. It seemed so slow, Don wondered why he couldn't catch her. Mimi's scream was like a leak in a dam, so much sound trying to escape through such a little mouth. She ran towards the door, But Don thought quickly enough to fumbly find the remote control in his pocket and activate the lock.
Mimi kept on running. She ran to late. Her face crushed into the steel plated door, and she slid to the ground. Don rushed over with a maternal concern at his creation's limp body. Which was exactly what she wanted.
He bent down her and turned her over, quietly, softly. The red line that was gushing from her nose stood out so much that Don was transfixed. Her eyes shoot open. Too late, Don retracted. To late, he saw her foot make a lightning kick towards his face.
Their roles reversed, Mimi now stood over Don, her four feet looking like 40 from his position. She wiped the blood from her face and tasted it. His face clenched in disgust. Don tried to grab her ankle, but she was already gone.
Towards to window, the source of light, she ran. Her arms covered her face in her shower of glass and sun, and she felt nothing as she fell, with the precision of a paratrooper. Ignoring the cuts covering her body, she ran, ran into the hills, and never once looked back.
Meanwhile, back in the abandoned warehouse where Mary Magellan was being held prisoner to the evil pulp rantings of Ann Rice....
The scratchy Anne Rice tape churned out a screeching monotone reading of Interview with a vampire.... AHHHH! MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP! Remembering her training Mary blocked it out the best that she could by remembering portions of Douglas Adam's book , The Restaurant at the end of the Universe... and then , in a holy entrance that only two people could make (One being Jesus and two being Bill Cosby , and Cosby was undergoing surgery at the time)Jesus charged in , his Glock pointed square at the tape player , and in a burst of lead the evil recording stopped. Grant laughed , amused at the savior's entrance .... "Stupid mortal , just because you are the son of God doesn't mean jack..."
Before he could continue he remembered that it was daylight and he wasn't wearing his Spf20000000000000000 sun block today. Grant fell in a pile of smoldering ashes.
Suddenly, Grant arose from ashes, having remembered he wasn't really a vampire, just a delusional goth punk with really sharp canines and a passion for Anne Rice. "Hahaha," he laughed, "I'm a person, Jesus, you can't do bullshit unless you want to commit a sin!"
Jesus sat down and thought about this. "I guess you're right," he said at a great dealing of pondering and nail-biting. "I suppose I'll have to convert you." With that, Jesus reached into his pocket and pulled out several tons of Jesus paraphernalia and merchandise. Jesus sorted through the pile, tossing items at the horrified Grant.
"Jesus Happy Meal Toys!" Jesus cried with glee as he wound up the rolling Mary Magdalene toy (which bore an uncanny resemblance to a Barbie on wheels). But he dropped that toy instantly when he saw a copy of 'Jesus Christ Superstar' in among his stuff. "Nooooooooo!" he screamed, mangling the video. He ripped it with his teeth and kicked it around like a hacky-sack screaming "Infidels! You dared to give the apostles 'fros! Ten plagues!"
In the midst of this holy hissy fit, the Grant snuck out and escaped conversion, well, at least until the Jehovah Witnesses' hit his place.
In the mean time, the Peter was trying to reach Albert Einstein's soul on the phone. He dialed the genius' number and heard the answering machine click on. It said in a crazy, funky German accent: "Hello, comrades! I've been introduced to Communism and trust me, it is the salvation of the workers! I'm out right now, helping my Russian friends, Boris nd Natasha blow up some democratic forest creatures. 'Dat bad moose' and 'Proletarian squirrel' s my Red friends call them! Be back soon! If you would like to know about KC and The Sunshine and/KC and JoJo connection, press 1; If you are searching for an Asiasic panther, press 2; If ou don't feel like pressing 1 or 2, stay on the line and listen to a couple of Milli Vanilli records.
P.S. That was supposed make you hang up, but supposing you haven't, it's REALLY Milli Vanilli singing on theses records....Ewwwwgggghhhhaaaaa. Gag. Gag."
Peter pressed 2, if only to avoid Milli and Vanilli. "There's no such thing as an Asiastic panther. It's an Asiatic pantheon, dumbass. If you're looking for a particularly evil Asiatic pantheon, look for Marvin the Mole/Stool Pigeon. He knows all the dirt about that kinda stuff. Bye."
The answering machine hung up on Peter, but he wasn't particularly offended. He was too happy.
Maybe, he thought, now Christ will give me some credit and maybe Mary will flirt with me. Peter was so full of expectations he didn't notice the large green hand swooping down from the sky, right at him....
(And Now for the mandatory six hours for educational entertainment, we present 'The Happy Numbers' Adventures in Math Land"!)
Number 3: Omigod, it's an algebraic equation!
Number 2: Number 10, what should we do now?
Number 10: We have to use our noodles! We have to think it out!
Number 1: Noodles? I thought this was a children's show, 10? We can't say anything that could be turned into a sexual innuendo!
Number 10: Oh yeah, I guess I'd better shut my hole.
Number 2: No, if you shut your hole, you wouldn't be a 10!
Number 3:Oh, fuck this! Let's go count some beer off the wall!
Number 4: I never get any good lines like that, but okay, let's go get drunk....
*The numbers walk off to the local bar, where they get drunk and screw up their multiplication tables.*
Number 10: five times five is twenty three, kids
Number 5: two times zero is twenty five, twenty five bottles of beer on the wall, twenty five bottles of beer.....ya take one down and pazit salkdfjl;a 9his voice goes all slurry)
Number 3: You know whadda I think of you? You're a low down, fucking, gorgeous charming bastard. I love you all! Dammit! I hate you, stupid fuckheads, I want to kill you......with love (he pukes all over everything).
Narrator: Well, kids, now for the Captain Kangaroo hour!!!!
Meanwhile, back at the abandoned warehouse Jesus, Bill Cosby, and Grant were, while not actually fighting, in a sort of semi-combat.
"Hahaha!" Grant laughed " watch me turn into a bat, you foolish demigod!" He then proceeded to flail his arms about and make squeaking noises as he made a headline for the pudding pop king.
"Time for blood!" Grant exclaimed, biting Cosby on the neck. His teeth were actually pretty dull, and he only succeeded in bruising the Cos. As a last resort, he took out his calaver pistol, and shot him through the head.
"Oh my DAD!" screamed the now Cosmister-splattered Jesus "The killed Billy!!!! You bastards!"
He grabbed his glow-in the dark air freshiner (with real water from Lourdes) and charged.
"Nooooo" Grant screamed as he was potpourri-ified by the Jesus merchandise. Jesus laughed. " My Father in heaven loved "Fat Albert", you heathen. Hope you enjoy the heat, because it's plenty hot where you're going!"
"My hero!" squealed Mary M. with her pseudo-smart mega-sexy voice. The embraced for what seemed like eternity, then walked out of the dark warehouse. The sun set in the west, and they walked hand and hand in the twilight. Tomorrow it would be a brave new world, for two brave new souls who had made it...together.
The End
Just kidding. "Um, where's Peter?" questioned Jesus. "Wasn't he with you?" asked Mary.
They both turned to each other with wide eyes. Suddenly, they broke into a run and started yelling out "Peter!" "Peter!!!"
Of course, this action was futile, because at the moment Peter was laying buck naked on a metal slab, with varieties of tubes and/or needles entering every orifice of his body, as well as creating new ones. "Where am I?" begged of his hosts, a group of bug-eyed, gray-skinned otherworlders.
The lead observer explained, without speaking (he was a trained in sign languge) that this was the space ship 'CkháL'Åvaa, of the federated empire of the Cthuluroids, under her majesty Lucinda, QUEEN OF SPACE (or at least the areas of space controlled by the Cthuluroids, which included three asteroids, a third of Io, and a small portion of Pluto).
This wasn't anything too strange for peter though , the tubes and needles , the uncomfortable beds, the tall grey aliens , nope...everything was actually pretty a-ok for peter ((he used to live in a UF dorm...))not that he enjoyed it all, the tubes were a nice touch though , he thought , but he wished that the hallucination would end. In a cold sweat he realized something, this wasn't rush week...and these weren't frat kids...for the rest of the episode Peter cried like a baby. The aliens lost interest in the childish hero, they were engrossed in their hi-tech TV .... Funniest videos were on and there was a guest host on tonight , some super intelligent fly...it was a laff riot...
After seeing the finalist video about the immolated Buddhist monk, the host who's last name rhymed with a certain derogatory word introduced tonight's guest...Dan, the amazing talking fly with Tourette's syndrome.
Dan, or to be more specific, the remainder of Dan's genetic code, came in.
"Um, hello little girl who looks suspiciously like the co-star on my z-grade sitcom. Where's the talking fly?" asked the moronic host. The audience broke out in laughter, because this was the funniest thing he had said all night.
"I'm afraid that the insect in question was neatly divided. But thanks too his memories, I knew the location and guest spot of this show, in a series of very dull and scientific events that were almost completely plagiarized from Frankenstein"
The host with the least mosts jaw murmured "Yea, but practically everything is stolen from Frankenstein these days, from Blade Runner to Johnny Mnemonic."
As the dullard of the century realized he had actually said something vaguely witty, Mimi took his slow reaction time to her advantage. She pitched herself forward, and began to summersault towards the poor, stupid man's version of David Letterman. When she was 1 foot away, she projected herself towards his Adam's apple.
"Ow! That hurt!" he said, as the audience giggled again at what they believed to be another "joke".
Mimi forced a demonic smile. "Well, this should numb the pain!!!" she yelled, her hand going through the host's forehead. After spending 4 minutes locating his pebble-like brain, she yanked it out. Unfortunately, it was too small to show him before he died.
"Now there's FUNNY. I think that's the winner tonight. And as my prize, I'm claiming all television in the name of MIMI!!!
Meanwhile, at the network, the executives were ecstatic. After all, the ratings for America's Funniest Home Videos hadn't been this high since the terrorist incident. Amidst their high-fiving and spin-off planning, Mimi upped the power to tackle over every broadcasting satellite. Families from across the world gathered in the warm, blinding glow of their televisions to watch the disturbingly adorable little moppet who had complete control of televised entertainment.
Things seemed to be just peachy for Mimi. What more could she ask for? Damn, she had the power of every person's T.V. AND she was one good looking chick. So, Mimi decided to run for Miss Universe, and...lost (Miss Mongolia kicked ass and won first place)! So now, all Mimi could think about was killing Miss Mongolia.
Meanwhile, God was thinking about how far things got out of hand.
"Geez, ask a couple of people, along with my divine Son, to do a little bidding, and look what happens!"
Sambaa Mangral was happily weaving more yak fur into Buddhist prayer mats on her family's farm in rural Mongolia when she saw two strangers wandering off in the distance waving their arms and yelling something in English. Fortunately, as Miss Universe, she had been trained in the use of over 83 languages (and advanced physics in astrological travel).
"Peter! Peter!" The bearded man she recognized from a missionary pamphlet yelled out in a sore voice. His companion collapsed, and he was soon to follow.
As Sambaa looked down on the foreigners, she pondered killing them for the lard her townspeople so desperately needed. " No," she thought " that is not the Mongolian way. Looting and razing villages while on the path of rampage IS the Mongolian way, but slaughtering defenseless travelers is not."
She took them into her nomadic tent where she nursed them back to health with llama milk and roasted tundra larva as she combed the fleas from their hair. Mary M. regained conciseness. "
Whaaaaa?" she murmured as she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a giant, scorched maggot staring back at her. Even her liberated sex-kitteness could not sustain her very loud scream.
Her intelligent (and needless to say, sexy) distress awakened Jesus in turn.
"Hey, cool!" Jesus exclaimed "I'm having that dream where I get laid by Ms. Universe!" then, to the astonishment and wonder of Mary M. and Sambaa, the savior began to remove his outergarments and rub some sort of greasy substance on himself.
"Um... Jesus?" asked Mary M.
"Alright, a threesome!" said the messiah, now clan in poly-weave jockey shorts reading "Hot Stuff" in the vicinity of his divine loins.
Mary M.'s eyes looked heavenward as she sighed "This isn't a dream."
Jesus looked around nervously, then grinned foolishly. "Um, well, I knew that...this was a test, see, and I needed to see how you responded to lust, and... testing. Just testing. Hah-heh-umm...yeah. Testing." he then quickly redressed.
Turning her attention from the oiled king of kings, Mary asked their caretaker to update her on the plot of the story.
"Well, most honorable saint, it seems that you were looking for someone named "Peter" when you collapsed in the frozen desert of our nomadic wasteland. By the way, as your companion most accurately noted, I am Sambaa Mangral, Miss Universe 98'."
"Hey! I read your bio in Tiger Beat!" exclaimed the teenybopper rag lovin' Magdalene. "It says that you have a degree in advanced physics in astrological travel!" Sambaa affirmed this was so.
"Well, call it a hunch, but I think that our friend Peter is being held hostage in outer space by the Queen of the Cthuluroids, the mighty Lucinda. You can build a space ship so we can retrieve him!"
"Well.." Mongolia's pride pondered "Your female instinct is a long shot, and it will cost us billions of dollars to investigate...but what the hell?"
Mary M. and Miss Universe got to work hammering scrap metal from abandoned Chinese pipeline. Meanwhile, Jesus was watching Playboy: Mongolia. "My name is Ungaatarlangsittar" said the nymph on the T.V as Jesus hoped she would take off her elk-skin bathing suit. "And my turn-ons are hay, lichen, and ceremonial summer dances. My turnoffs are making firewood out of cattle dung, gangrene, and U.N planes dropping medical packages that land on your head." "Shagadelic!" howled Jesus.
And while this all would be interesting to observe in length, let's fast forward to 3 months latter, when our crew is aboard the M.S.S (Mongolian Space Ship) Jesusstar.
"I don't see why we couldn't have named it "Marystar."
"Or Saambastar"
"Heeey, ladies" Jesus said smoothly "Jesusstar just has such a ring to it. Besides, I died for your sins. Reemmebbeeer?"
"For the last time, YES!" Mary M. and Sambaa Mangral shouted in unison.
Meanwhile, on planets surface, in a undisclosed Indian location, Kali, with her two beat henches, and a bound and gagged Bébé looked out on the cosmos with her Kaliscope™ (available at Burger King). "Hahaha!" she shrieked. "Do those fools really think they can evade me inside that metallic bubble? Grant, load the Kali-calipso-cannon with the Kali-kaboomers!!!"
Grant looked around. "Um...are you talking about the missile launcher?"
Kali glared at Grant. "Do you want a dock in pay? Because if this crap doesn't sell, you the first to get a Kali-pink slip." "Loading Kali-calipso-cannon, your Kaliness, affective immediately!"
While Kali was pimping her much assorted collectables, Jesus and company (sans Peter) were scanning the universe. "Do you ever get the feeling that your about to be attacked by a barrage of Kali-kaboomers?" asked Jesus.
"What the hell is a Kali-kibomer?" asked Mary M.
"Not Kali-KIBOmer, Kali-KABOOMers" corrected his Lordness.
"Whatever."
At this moment, Jesus' infallible knack at prediction unfortunately proved itself infallible yet again, because the M.S.S Jesusstar was hit by several missiles- er, Kali-kaboomers, which caused a reaction in the spaceship's navigation. A change that left our heroes plummeting downwards at a unpleasantly fast speed.
"Jesus Christ!" screamed Sambaa.
"What?" asked Jesus Christ.
"It's a fucking expression!!!"
Luckily, our Savior did not hear such foul language, because there was a very loud crash.
Kali watched as the Jessustar came closer and closer to her headquarters. She watched as the ceiling erupted in several jagged pieces. She watched as the uncomfortably nearby Jesusstar entered through the new hole in the ceiling. And Kali watched, the very last thing she would ever watch, as she, Grant, and Don were crushed underneath the now, most uncomfortably close spaceship landed.
Jesus, Mary M., and Saamba Mangral exited the Jessustar undamaged, and looked around.
"Bébé!" Jesus called out, as he ran to untie his daughter. Kali's two cats, Dustball and Whiskars crawled out, meowing for food. "Kitties!" called out Saamba, who had always wanted some pussy-cats of her very own. Mary noticed that Kali's feet sticking out from under the Jesusstar... and they were wearing some retro ruby slippers- she recognized the label immediately. "Prada!" Mary M. Called out as she snatched them up and tried them on. Perfect fit!
God suddenly apeared on the floating hologram orb that Steve Dobbs had built for them in hopes of winning favor over Bill Gates. "Kudos, son, you've saved the world from the minions of darkness!"
"Whoaho!" exclaimed Jesus "Toga Party!"
Jesus, of course, was already wearing a toga, but Mary M. and Sambaa easily made some from Kali's bed sheets. Then they invited the 12 disciples over, along with the cooler female saints, and they partied like there was no tomorrow. Judas, always the troublemaker, spiked the punch.
"Hey, where's Peter?" someone asked. Peter remained thousands of feet above earth, hostage to the Cthuluroids, with numerous tubes covering his cold and naked body.
"Sigh." He said, suspecting he was missing a toga party.
"So do you watch Dawson's creek?" asked one of the alien overlords.
"Hey, yea. Love it."
"So do you think Lisa and Dawson will ever "do it"
"No way!" another Cthuluroid interrupted. "Lisa's a total bitch!"
"You must be crazy! Lisa's way cool!" Peter exclaimed.
Lucinda, Queen of Space, entered "Yea, but did you did you see her hair last week? Total butch cut."
"Totally" agreed Peter.
"But Amber's dress was soooo cute. I'd kill to have it." said Cthuluoid #2
"No way. I saw it the other day at Hot Topic!"
Oh, and Mimi was engulfed in jealously and became bitter and mean and nobody liked her.
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