“But that would never work,” Jesus said as he took another bite of delicious English muffin. Just then, some college jocks walked by him and one of them called him a fag for eating an English muffin. Jesus ignored them ‘cause he’d already gotten three wedgies that day. So, they resolved to taunt him further and throw eggs at him.
Jesus wondered, why did they have eggs? Perhaps they were doing one of those fake baby projects like on all those lame sitcoms on TV where you just know the poor schmoe’s gonna drop it but you’re like, “Why’s he even worried about it? Just get another egg!”
“Or perhaps they’re all just chickens,” Jesus said, and magically turned them all into chickens. Then he put them in a box so he could tie strings to them and sling them into hot chicks.
On the way to the mall, he felt the need to stop at a uniform store so that he could look like an official Rabid-Chicken-Removal-Specialist. But the guy at the store said the uniform would take three weeks to deliver, and those chickens would probably not last that long. So Jesus settled on a railroad conductor uniform.
So Jesus was off to the train yard where he planned to use one of the chickens to derail a train. But that didn't work, it just wasted a perfectly good chicken. So he spent a few hours “rescuing” women from rabid chickens. He didn't make much money, but the medallion he carries that absorbs screams and converts them into thermal-nuclear energy was filled during the day by the screams of horrified and disgusted women.
Jesus went home and ate a nuclear toasted English muffin and went to sleep, his tummy full and his remaining chickens safely in their coup.
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