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The Jeebus Chronicles - The Early Days
First things first, we need to establish just how cool Jeebus is. It’s near impossible to imagine, but put it this way:
If Fonzie was an anime disco-ninja evil cowboy hippy space pirate with a loris sidekick, riding through time on a magic dragon in a bowler hat, eating Frosties, playing non-stop electric guitar solos, in a cape, with a big sword, he’d be about 17 cool-levels™ below Jeebus.
That’s right.
Damn cool.
(Although, in this piece, Jeebus has not yet reached his full potential)
**
Anywho, the story goes a little like this.
Or, one account of it goes like this. It may be the truth, it may be lies, it may be some random scrawlings of a madman 2000 years ago. Jeebus doesn’t care what you believe, as long as you look cool believing it.
**
“You be a good boy, Jeebus, and don’t go near any nails.” Jeebus’s mum said.
“Yeah, yeah, alright ma. I’ll be cool, just gonna go check out the ninja scene, see what’s up.”
“Well ... here’s some cheese for the journey, and a jigsaw, and a marble statuette, and some keys.” She stepped back (certainly not a virgin) with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my little boy, all grown up.”
“Aaaayyyyyyy.” Jeebus said, striking a pose. “No worries.” And he set off, up the mountain path, to the land of the sensei.
The land of the sensei was not as magic or mystical as it sounded. It was supposed to be right at the top of the mountain, shrouded in thick clouds of inner peace - where evil spirits haunted ancient, snow-covered ruins, ripe for a banishing and deserted castles lurked in the darkness, waiting for a single blade, and a pure soul, to cleanse away the demons inside.
But several years ago, the sensei board has decided the shocking temperature wouldn’t do their ninjaness any good.
So instead, in a comfortable semi with a nice garden, literally ten feet up the mountain path, the sensei resided - waiting, ever waiting, for a promising student.
Jeebus approached the nearest sensei. Predictably, oh-so-predictably, he was old, and chinese, with a nice braided beard.
He was sat, cross-legged, on top of a very large, very pointy rock, eyes closed, deep in thought.
“Hey!” Jeebus called, “Sensei dude!”
“Uuuummmmmm...” The sensei said.
“Sorry man, you’re meditating - when you’re ready...”
“No worries, mate!” The sensei shouted, in a crude Australian accent, “I was just wonderin’ if we’ve got enough beer for the barbie! Now - what can I do for you?”
“Uh, ninja stuff, y’know? Should be cool.”
“Oh, yeah, bloody fantastic, mate. Free booze, loadsa sheilas, inner peace, a nice sword - it’s great!”
“Oh, good. So - what can you teach me?”
The sensei looked very pleased with this question.
‘You can do this!” He disappeared, along with the rock.
‘And ...?”
“This!” He reappeared, along with the rock.
“Err ... is that rock ... attached?” Jeebus said, loosing his cool a little. On closer inspection, the very pointy rock was stained red and brown near the top - and the last few inches of the point seemed to disappear... up.
“I ... er ... fell on it! Yeah, that’s right mate, I fell on it!”
“Oh, no man - that’s cool, whatever turns you on. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”
“Cheers mate! Nice one!” The sensei looked smug - he’d had enough of nerdy, acne-ridden skinny rejects desperate to become ninjas. And this guy seemed different - a nice fella, someone worth believing in.
“You’ll teach me, sensei?”
“Well, I’m working on commission, so I don’t have much choice. But yeah, I will. And the name’s Bruce.”
“Thankyou, Master Bruce. Where do we begin my training?”
‘First stop!” Bruce shouted, “Mr. Miyagi’s!”
“You mean the Karate Kid guy?”
“Of course.”
“I know. I was just pointing it out for the slower readers.” You know who you are.
**
And so they travelled, far and wide across land and sea, searching for Mr. Miyagi’s General Purpose Ninja Store. Then, five minutes down the road, across a little stream, past a charming cafe, they found it.
Wonderful.
“Before we go in,” Bruce said, holding up a finger (for added emphasis - although he may have been checking the wind direction) “If you see Mr. Miyagi - don’t mention the war (ouch, sorry) and do not, under any circumstances, offer him a drink.”
“Sure thing, Master.”
“Please, call be Bate.”
“Sure thing, Master Bate.” Ahahhahahaa. I couldn’t resist. Apologies
And so (using ‘and so’ too much?) they entered the store - it looked like a large warehouse, surrounded by mystery. Actually, it was a large warehouse, surrounded by tramps.
“Woah.” Jeebus said, awe-struck. “This place has got everything!”
The warehouse was divided into four equal parts.
The first part sold car wax
The second part sold sandpaper
The third part sold fence paint.
The fourth part sold house paint.
“Aaahhhhh!” Bruce shouted, “You should see my inner peace right now. It’s practically bulging.”
“...” Jeebus said, and stumbled - knees week - into the store.
“That’s right, kid - lap it up.”
It took exactly 6 seconds to lap everything up, leaving the distinct impression that the shop could easily be a lot smaller in the mind. But, under Bruce’s careful guidance, Jeebus managed to collect up all the ninja essentials and make it to the checkout with well co-ordinated paint colours.
Surprisingly (well, not really) Mr. Miyagi himself sat behind the checkout. His head lolled on his shoulder - a crusty stalactite of drool connecting the two - and grunted occasionally.
“He’s in a trance-like state of total awareness.” The checkout girl, appearing from nowhere, decided to say.
“Yeah .. I’m sure ...” Jeebus said, then realised the checkout girl was pretty damn fine. “Sooo ....” He looked at her name badge, “Stella? ... How you doin’?”
“STELLA!” Mr Miyagi roared, snapping out of his trance, his eyes frantically searching for alcohol.
“Paint a fence!” Bruce yelled in desperation, swaying a little on top of his rock.
“Ah, yes.” The suddenly passive Mr. Miyagi said. “Paintafence. Up ........ down. Up ..... down. Up ..... down. Long stroke. Very good.” And he slipped, oh-so-silently, back into his meditation trance.
“That was a close one, kid.” Bruce said, sweating. “Never mention the S-word, okay? It drives him crazy. I think we should leave - he’s entering the chopstick stage.”
Sure enough, Mr. Miyagi produced a pair of chopsticks from a secret hole and began randomly grabbing at stuff. He’d ripped off Stella’s ear and both nipples before she got away, and Bruce lost half an eyebrow.
“It’s such a shame,” Bruce started, once they were safely outside the shop. “This place has ruined him - he only gets one customer every two weeks, and they’ll only ever buy one of each thing.”
Jeebus stared reflectively into the distance, and did spake unto Bruce, “I wish to help people like that - to help them regain what has been lost.”
“Aww ... that’s sweet. Now let’s go be ninjas!”
But Jeebus wasn’t listening.
He had struck upon something - a need to help people. But not because he was a shovey, annoying ass-licker, but because he wanted to help. And if a person didn’t want help, he wouldn’t give it to them - that wouldn’t be very nice.
Yes - he’d help as many people as he could.
And look damn cool doing it.
**END**
Well, that was a bit crap.
“The Jeebus Chronicles - The College Years” may or may not come soon, depending on how much work I’ve got to avoid.
First things first, we need to establish just how cool Jeebus is. It’s near impossible to imagine, but put it this way:
If Fonzie was an anime disco-ninja evil cowboy hippy space pirate with a loris sidekick, riding through time on a magic dragon in a bowler hat, eating Frosties, playing non-stop electric guitar solos, in a cape, with a big sword, he’d be about 17 cool-levels™ below Jeebus.
That’s right.
Damn cool.
(Although, in this piece, Jeebus has not yet reached his full potential)
**
Anywho, the story goes a little like this.
Or, one account of it goes like this. It may be the truth, it may be lies, it may be some random scrawlings of a madman 2000 years ago. Jeebus doesn’t care what you believe, as long as you look cool believing it.
**
“You be a good boy, Jeebus, and don’t go near any nails.” Jeebus’s mum said.
“Yeah, yeah, alright ma. I’ll be cool, just gonna go check out the ninja scene, see what’s up.”
“Well ... here’s some cheese for the journey, and a jigsaw, and a marble statuette, and some keys.” She stepped back (certainly not a virgin) with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my little boy, all grown up.”
“Aaaayyyyyyy.” Jeebus said, striking a pose. “No worries.” And he set off, up the mountain path, to the land of the sensei.
The land of the sensei was not as magic or mystical as it sounded. It was supposed to be right at the top of the mountain, shrouded in thick clouds of inner peace - where evil spirits haunted ancient, snow-covered ruins, ripe for a banishing and deserted castles lurked in the darkness, waiting for a single blade, and a pure soul, to cleanse away the demons inside.
But several years ago, the sensei board has decided the shocking temperature wouldn’t do their ninjaness any good.
So instead, in a comfortable semi with a nice garden, literally ten feet up the mountain path, the sensei resided - waiting, ever waiting, for a promising student.
Jeebus approached the nearest sensei. Predictably, oh-so-predictably, he was old, and chinese, with a nice braided beard.
He was sat, cross-legged, on top of a very large, very pointy rock, eyes closed, deep in thought.
“Hey!” Jeebus called, “Sensei dude!”
“Uuuummmmmm...” The sensei said.
“Sorry man, you’re meditating - when you’re ready...”
“No worries, mate!” The sensei shouted, in a crude Australian accent, “I was just wonderin’ if we’ve got enough beer for the barbie! Now - what can I do for you?”
“Uh, ninja stuff, y’know? Should be cool.”
“Oh, yeah, bloody fantastic, mate. Free booze, loadsa sheilas, inner peace, a nice sword - it’s great!”
“Oh, good. So - what can you teach me?”
The sensei looked very pleased with this question.
‘You can do this!” He disappeared, along with the rock.
‘And ...?”
“This!” He reappeared, along with the rock.
“Err ... is that rock ... attached?” Jeebus said, loosing his cool a little. On closer inspection, the very pointy rock was stained red and brown near the top - and the last few inches of the point seemed to disappear... up.
“I ... er ... fell on it! Yeah, that’s right mate, I fell on it!”
“Oh, no man - that’s cool, whatever turns you on. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”
“Cheers mate! Nice one!” The sensei looked smug - he’d had enough of nerdy, acne-ridden skinny rejects desperate to become ninjas. And this guy seemed different - a nice fella, someone worth believing in.
“You’ll teach me, sensei?”
“Well, I’m working on commission, so I don’t have much choice. But yeah, I will. And the name’s Bruce.”
“Thankyou, Master Bruce. Where do we begin my training?”
‘First stop!” Bruce shouted, “Mr. Miyagi’s!”
“You mean the Karate Kid guy?”
“Of course.”
“I know. I was just pointing it out for the slower readers.” You know who you are.
**
And so they travelled, far and wide across land and sea, searching for Mr. Miyagi’s General Purpose Ninja Store. Then, five minutes down the road, across a little stream, past a charming cafe, they found it.
Wonderful.
“Before we go in,” Bruce said, holding up a finger (for added emphasis - although he may have been checking the wind direction) “If you see Mr. Miyagi - don’t mention the war (ouch, sorry) and do not, under any circumstances, offer him a drink.”
“Sure thing, Master.”
“Please, call be Bate.”
“Sure thing, Master Bate.” Ahahhahahaa. I couldn’t resist. Apologies
And so (using ‘and so’ too much?) they entered the store - it looked like a large warehouse, surrounded by mystery. Actually, it was a large warehouse, surrounded by tramps.
“Woah.” Jeebus said, awe-struck. “This place has got everything!”
The warehouse was divided into four equal parts.
The first part sold car wax
The second part sold sandpaper
The third part sold fence paint.
The fourth part sold house paint.
“Aaahhhhh!” Bruce shouted, “You should see my inner peace right now. It’s practically bulging.”
“...” Jeebus said, and stumbled - knees week - into the store.
“That’s right, kid - lap it up.”
It took exactly 6 seconds to lap everything up, leaving the distinct impression that the shop could easily be a lot smaller in the mind. But, under Bruce’s careful guidance, Jeebus managed to collect up all the ninja essentials and make it to the checkout with well co-ordinated paint colours.
Surprisingly (well, not really) Mr. Miyagi himself sat behind the checkout. His head lolled on his shoulder - a crusty stalactite of drool connecting the two - and grunted occasionally.
“He’s in a trance-like state of total awareness.” The checkout girl, appearing from nowhere, decided to say.
“Yeah .. I’m sure ...” Jeebus said, then realised the checkout girl was pretty damn fine. “Sooo ....” He looked at her name badge, “Stella? ... How you doin’?”
“STELLA!” Mr Miyagi roared, snapping out of his trance, his eyes frantically searching for alcohol.
“Paint a fence!” Bruce yelled in desperation, swaying a little on top of his rock.
“Ah, yes.” The suddenly passive Mr. Miyagi said. “Paintafence. Up ........ down. Up ..... down. Up ..... down. Long stroke. Very good.” And he slipped, oh-so-silently, back into his meditation trance.
“That was a close one, kid.” Bruce said, sweating. “Never mention the S-word, okay? It drives him crazy. I think we should leave - he’s entering the chopstick stage.”
Sure enough, Mr. Miyagi produced a pair of chopsticks from a secret hole and began randomly grabbing at stuff. He’d ripped off Stella’s ear and both nipples before she got away, and Bruce lost half an eyebrow.
“It’s such a shame,” Bruce started, once they were safely outside the shop. “This place has ruined him - he only gets one customer every two weeks, and they’ll only ever buy one of each thing.”
Jeebus stared reflectively into the distance, and did spake unto Bruce, “I wish to help people like that - to help them regain what has been lost.”
“Aww ... that’s sweet. Now let’s go be ninjas!”
But Jeebus wasn’t listening.
He had struck upon something - a need to help people. But not because he was a shovey, annoying ass-licker, but because he wanted to help. And if a person didn’t want help, he wouldn’t give it to them - that wouldn’t be very nice.
Yes - he’d help as many people as he could.
And look damn cool doing it.
**END**
Well, that was a bit crap.
“The Jeebus Chronicles - The College Years” may or may not come soon, depending on how much work I’ve got to avoid.
Page:
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
>
> Yes, but this came off an earlier discussion when FF couldn't
> understand who Jeebus was. It was quite funny, so I decided to clear
> thing up for him.
Well i'll let you off then, but only this once. lol
>
> Yes, but this came off an earlier discussion when FF couldn't
> understand who Jeebus was. It was quite funny, so I decided to clear
> thing up for him.
Well i'll let you off then, but only this once. lol
Geffdof wrote:
> By the way, Jeebus was from The simpsons, thief. Thou shall not
> steal
Yes, but this came off an earlier discussion when FF couldn't understand who Jeebus was. It was quite funny, so I decided to clear thing up for him.
> By the way, Jeebus was from The simpsons, thief. Thou shall not
> steal
Yes, but this came off an earlier discussion when FF couldn't understand who Jeebus was. It was quite funny, so I decided to clear thing up for him.
*awaits Forest Fan reply*
I thought this was pretty funny. And *shock horror* im one of those wierdo christian types too. I also thought the Jesus action figure thing from another thread was funny too. Forest Fan will have my guts for garters.
By the way, Jeebus was from The simpsons, thief. Thou shall not steal*
*with the exception of robbin hood and all those crazy dudes from oceans eleven.
By the way, Jeebus was from The simpsons, thief. Thou shall not steal*
*with the exception of robbin hood and all those crazy dudes from oceans eleven.
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> "You entertained me for once."
> "You entertained me for once."
Yeah, I was just fishing for ... cheese.
What's this? Oh yes - a shameless pop.
Whoop.
What's this? Oh yes - a shameless pop.
Whoop.
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> Well, that was a bit crap.
They say that honesty is the best policy but that may have been a little harsh :D
> Well, that was a bit crap.
They say that honesty is the best policy but that may have been a little harsh :D
Oh, as in "You entertained me for once."
*Happy*
*Happy*
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> Ju§t Tinkª wrote:
> >You entertained me for once.
>
> Ouch.
What I ment was, It's been me writing all the stuff recently.
Is all.
> Ju§t Tinkª wrote:
> >You entertained me for once.
>
> Ouch.
What I ment was, It's been me writing all the stuff recently.
Is all.
Ju§t Tinkª wrote:
>You entertained me for once.
Ouch.
>You entertained me for once.
Ouch.
Page: