Jesus had just finished a tall glass of whiskey in Kittie’s Brothel in the old west, when Jimmy, his faithful companion, ran down the stairs screaming, “Oink Oink!” Jimmy was a pig, who Jesus had given the ability to walk upright and wear clothes, but not to speak. Luckily, Jesus was fluent in pig, having spent much of his youth in pigpens. Anyhoo, Jesus was able to translate ‘oink oink’ into ‘She’s a man!’
Kittie, the tall muscular owner of the bar, ran across the room. “I’m sorry, but this is a transsexual pleasure house. We have signs everywhere.”
“Well I demand satisfaction!” Jesus proclaimed belligerently.
“Oh, you will be satisfied. Take him away boys.”
Eight strapping young gays in women’s clothing tried to grab Jesus. But Jesus quickly threw Jimmy at them and ran. He hopped on his horse/time machine, and as soon as they were galloping at 88 miles per hour, they were transported to medieval England
Lancelot was there to greet them on behalf of the entire round table. But Jesus didn’t have time for this. He needed to get fucked, fast, and he knew just the place to get it. He rode quickly to the castle, where he found Lady Guinevere. They had been at it for thirty-six hours when Arthur began to wonder where his wife was. Arthur went to his room and found the door locked. He heard moaning inside, so he broke the door down in time to see Jesus hop out the window and fly away.
He ran to the window and shook his fist and shouted, “Damn you Jesus! Damn you to Hell!”
“No!” Jesus replied, as the wind rushed through his hair like crabs through his pubes.
He landed on his horse and rode off into the sunset, until he hit a wall. His horse seemed to have crushed his skull and Jesus was thrown over the wall into a swamp. Without his horse, Jesus knew the only way to get back to his own time was to find his medieval self, and combine their powers.
After a nice long walk, he found himself passed out or dead or something in a stone shack near the coast. He began to cry, “Mamma said there’d be days like this.”
“It’s funny,” said a voice from above, “my mamma said the same thing.” It was his real medieval self. The passed out Jesus was just a dead decoy to get rid of beggars. “I thought you were one of those homeless types looking for a handout.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Jesus from the future asked.
“Well you do look pretty blind, as only a blind man would wear that drab robe. And we all know how useless blind people are.”
”What are you talking about?! I’ve been wearing this same robe for 2000 years!”
“Oh Yeah,” Medieval Jesus said, looking down at his own drab robe. They shared a good laugh, and then Jesus explained how lame his horse was.
They decided to hang out for a few days before sending future Jesus home. Then Jesus got sick of himself. They both pointed their magic rings in the air, and said a little chant. A time portal opened, and Jesus went back to the future.
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