How i denied Jesus Christ
This is a kick-ass story you won't get anywhere else. I'm a master story teller. So here goes:
The sun was high in the sky. Frankly, i felt very pissed that Jesus had thrown a stone at me. He'd taken "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone" a little too far.
What else could i do? Me, being a kick-ass ninja guy, whipped out my 6 foot long katana and said to the Nazerene "Let's tango."
He seemed pretty happy with the idea. With a powerful leap, he bound into the sky. Shit, i thought, as i saw a long silver gleam emerge from his perforated hand. Jesus had a katana too.
With a tunderous clank, Yeshua landed mere feet from me, and delivered a power thrust with his Japanese blade. How in hell did Jesus get a Japanese swordin Jerusalem? Never mind that. He's Jesus.
Anway, with a lightning quick parry, i dodged his holy blow with agility. However, He was faster than i thought he was. As i slid to His side in hopes of harvesting his kidney, Jesus socked me in the face with his massive fist.
"Believe in me!" he shouted, "Don't make me recite John 3:16 again!"
"NEVER!"I yelled. He would have to kill first.
With lightning fast speed, sword clang and clanks rang out through the holy city of Jerusalem. People around us were laying down their bets. The odds were 19902747361029 to 1, in favour of Jesus. Damn.
It was noon when we started our joust, and before i knew it, the sun had already began to set. I was perspiring more than George Bush during the debates, and ol' JC hadn't even broken a sweat. In fact, he was sipping tea many a time during our battle.
The battle had to end. And i had to be the one to end it. I held the blade high above my head, preparing for a Japanese-pokemon-nintendo death-blow. Cold hard steel swung down, but Jesus paralled his sword with the ground and blocked my blow. A cold rattling of steel filled the air, and my katana shattered in pieces. I have to get the number of his black-smith.
Jesus pointed his sword at my throat, as i lay cowering below his feet. On hindsight, i had no idea why i was cowering. He's Jesus, he couldn't kill me. In theory.
"You can't kill me! In theory..." I muttered.
"Thou art correct. " And he raised his sword. He lent me a hand, and even helped me up. He's not such a bad guy after all.
We ended up having coffee at the closest cafe. I still don't believe he was the messiah, but we're still good friends.
He also smells faintly of cabbage.
The sun was high in the sky. Frankly, i felt very pissed that Jesus had thrown a stone at me. He'd taken "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone" a little too far.
What else could i do? Me, being a kick-ass ninja guy, whipped out my 6 foot long katana and said to the Nazerene "Let's tango."
He seemed pretty happy with the idea. With a powerful leap, he bound into the sky. Shit, i thought, as i saw a long silver gleam emerge from his perforated hand. Jesus had a katana too.
With a tunderous clank, Yeshua landed mere feet from me, and delivered a power thrust with his Japanese blade. How in hell did Jesus get a Japanese swordin Jerusalem? Never mind that. He's Jesus.
Anway, with a lightning quick parry, i dodged his holy blow with agility. However, He was faster than i thought he was. As i slid to His side in hopes of harvesting his kidney, Jesus socked me in the face with his massive fist.
"Believe in me!" he shouted, "Don't make me recite John 3:16 again!"
"NEVER!"I yelled. He would have to kill first.
With lightning fast speed, sword clang and clanks rang out through the holy city of Jerusalem. People around us were laying down their bets. The odds were 19902747361029 to 1, in favour of Jesus. Damn.
It was noon when we started our joust, and before i knew it, the sun had already began to set. I was perspiring more than George Bush during the debates, and ol' JC hadn't even broken a sweat. In fact, he was sipping tea many a time during our battle.
The battle had to end. And i had to be the one to end it. I held the blade high above my head, preparing for a Japanese-pokemon-nintendo death-blow. Cold hard steel swung down, but Jesus paralled his sword with the ground and blocked my blow. A cold rattling of steel filled the air, and my katana shattered in pieces. I have to get the number of his black-smith.
Jesus pointed his sword at my throat, as i lay cowering below his feet. On hindsight, i had no idea why i was cowering. He's Jesus, he couldn't kill me. In theory.
"You can't kill me! In theory..." I muttered.
"Thou art correct. " And he raised his sword. He lent me a hand, and even helped me up. He's not such a bad guy after all.
We ended up having coffee at the closest cafe. I still don't believe he was the messiah, but we're still good friends.
He also smells faintly of cabbage.
