JESUS AND THE GANG

Jesus was living with Michael Keaton in Brooklyn. He got out of the shower after Michael had left one day.  Jesus had planned to ask Michael if he could borrow a shirt, but didn’t get the chance.  So he figured he could have it back in Michael’s closet before Michael got back from performing in the Broadway musical, “Mr. Mom.”

So he took the shirt and set off on his big date with Jessica Simpson.  She was married at the time, but who wouldn’t cheat on their husband to say they’d fucked Jesus?  Jesus waited around all night at Luigi’s Italian Café, and Jess never showed.  “That bitch stood me up!” Jesus said.  “It’s time for a good old fashioned smiting!”  He flew off in such a hurry that he forgot he was wearing Michael’s shirt.

The next thing he knew, he was tearing down the gates of heaven in a blind furry, and everyone standing in line bumrushed past Jesus Hulk, and into Heaven.

“God damn it!” yelled Jesus’ old man, “what the bloody fuck are you doing?”

“Uhh... I don’t know what happened… wait, did you just say ‘bloody fuck?’  Like that time we double-teamed that Jamaican Chick on her rag?”

“Oh… Linda, Yeah!”

“Good times.  Anyway, I’m in a hurry.  I need to borrow the smiting ray.”

“You know we don’t smite people anymore.”

“But Dad—

“No buts!”

Without the help of the smiting ray, Jesus would have to smite her the more primitive way. So he went to Big 5 and got a baseball bat and some deodorant (‘cause he didn’t want to smell anymore.)  Now he was ready to play ball… in Jessica’s ass.  Now, ample as that ass was, Jesus could not fit in past his knuckles, especially after that bat.  So he shrunk himself down and, long story short, he got Michael’s shirt all dirty.