I posted this Wednesday but it got listed a year ago.
I'm still burning through stuff I wrote a couple of years ago.
Jerusalem lie in ruins.
Barely an hour had passed since the twenty story Battle Jesus had marched out of the Mediterranean Sea and onto the beaches south of TelAviv. Absentmindedly flicking jets of the Israeli army out of the air, Jesus quickly strode across the short distance to Jerusalem.
At the city limits the gargantuan son of man pulled the 150 foot crucifix from his back and, in the manner of someone hacking their way through an African jungle, began swinging. With each blow of the mighty cross another city block fell.
But even Battle Jesus wasn't ready for him when he finally reached the Temple Mount. The Profit Muhammad, clad entirely in shining armor, his hair and beard pulled back into a braid running down his back, placed a size 243 sandal on top of the golden dome of the mosque. "This temple is mine! You shall not desecrate it!"
Jesus responded not with words but a volley of cross mounted missiles. Muhammad lept in front of the mosque to protect it from the missiles. Even as the last of them exploded Jesus was on him. Together they rolled through the city crushing homes and offices, apartments and kosher delis alike. First one had the advantage, then the other, and back, over and over across the city.
Just south of Hebrew University Muhammad managed to shove a massive thumb through the hole in Jesus's right hand. Roaring in pain he lept away from the Muslim Prophet. But his scream was cut short as 100 feet of sword was inserted just below his ribcage. Jesus staggered. Looking at Muhammad a smile spread across his face. Throwing back his head Jesus uttered the call to prayer. Reflex took over. Muhammad turned toward Mecca and bowed in prayer. Jesus used this opening to bring the cross down on his opponent's head.
Jesus drew the sword from his chest. Struck by a sudden coughing fit he found his mouth filled with his strangely alcoholic blood. He spat once upon the body of Muhammad before limping off towards the Temple Mount.
Behind him Muhammad struggled to pull himself to his feet. He was the first to see the newest player in their conflict.
Coming up fast over the horizon was the one thing that terrified Muhammad and Jesus alike. A woman. A liberated, scantly clad, woman with six arms and twice as much attitude. And from the way she was holding her trident she clearly intended to finish this once and for all.