Passion of The Christ II: This Time She Won't Get Nailed

Oh, dear readers, dry your eyes and turn towards your screens, for the time has come. Too much time has passed since the conclusion of The Essence of What Is Awesome and the discover y that Tifa Lockhart was the second coming of Jesus Christ, codenamed T. ULTRACHRIST. We now begin the second part of the saga, concerning the pilgrimage of T. Ultrachrist, her pursuit by Chuck Norris and the various worlds and persons that become part of their epic struggle of Blakeian passion versus Platonic thought.

We shall begin with a brief Eugene O'Neil-esque Interlude Out of Time so that we might review the key players in our pornographic and deadly farce.

*Tifa Lockhart has been contacted by the poet William Blake, has become T. Ultrachrist and now travels throughout time seeking to create religious and political revolution. A disciple of the powers of AWESEOME

*Cloud Strife, once a Jew and now dead, experienced much pain and suffering from the index finger of a talented nymphet before dedicating himself to abducting, murdering (in a most unique way) and raping young women. He was murdered by Chief Inspector Richard J. Dawson's magic sledgehammer and instrumental in the creation of what is to be known as The Big Door, a portal that connects every universe and resides in the remains of Columbus, Ohio.

*Chuck Norris is an agent of Heaven (and a disciple of the powers of MARVEL.) He recently descended from Heaven, murdered Zell Dincht and Rinoa Heartilly, and now is in search of T. Ultrachrist. He carried a gigantic, golden robotic arm and a greasy chainsaw in his "bag of plenty."

*Vincent Valentine, now known as Jeremiah, is a born-again Christian and fond of both the flesh of a horse and crucifixions. He also enjoys dropping trow and shitting of the faces of victims.

*Yuffie Kisargi, after being sexually imprisoned by Cid Highwind in the Polar Palace of Sexual Amusement, was crucified by Jeremiah. She never got All Creation.

*Cid Highwind was killed by Jeremiah's reserve battle axe while smoking a clove cigarette.

*Cait-Sith recently injected his brain with poisoned heroin and died screaming about Kieran Culkin. Considering his rather brutal sexual practices and habit of robbing coroner's offices, this is a good thing.

(And if you think I'm joking about having written these things in the prequel, think again. Remember, dear readers, I was just bored.)

PART I. FRANZ KAFKA AND THE OVEN OF LOVE.

Chapter I. Motel pillows are S-T-I-C-K-Y

'Especially when covered in the semen of large black man-whores 'thought T. Ultrachrist as she attempted to find a dry place to lay her head. Since moving to Los Angles and discovering her true nature T. Ultrachrist has also learned another thing: she, like Lady Gaga, loved big black cock. Preferably over fifteen inches and driven into her like a nail into balsa wood.

In fact just thinking about it made her jaw hang open slightly and spit puddle on her breasts until they were sopping wet.

'Well!' thought T. Ultrachrist 'this is no way to start the day, especially when there is simply so much to do!' For today was a special day! A very special day indeed! T. Ultrachrist was going to meet with William Blake at a bar downtown and receive her first assignment as an agent of Awesome. T. Ultrachrist had not seen William Blake since he freed her from the ox fuck-fest engineered by her former husband Jerome in Deling City. T. Ultrachrist, then simply Tifa, had been covered in generic label mayonnaise, mustard, black paint and Jerome's shit when William Blake had summoned a gigantic robin from a tome of romanticism that had consumed Jerome. It was quite a sight.

And now, a year or so later, T. Ultrachrist rose from her bed of black cum and showered briefly before donning a pair of dyke overalls, filthy mountain-man boots and an oiled leather shirt. Taking a brief swig from a bottle of sweet vermouth (though God knows it tasted like parched asshole), she cleaned her motel room a bit and left to catch a bus into San Fernando Valley. She looked quickly at her calendar in the bus station and saw it was March 2nd, 1991. 'Hmm' though T. Ultrachrist as the bus pulled up. She sat down next to a woman with vibrant blue hair and noticed that several police cards and a helicopter had just moved past in pursuit of a car holding three individuals. 'Oh well' thought T. Ultrachrist. She leaned over to the blue-haired woman.

"What do you do for a living?" asked T. Ultrachrist with a smile on her face. The blue-haired woman slowly turned, unsmiling, and raised an eyebrow.

"I periodically turn into a flying purple she-beast." T. Ultachrist was stunned, but intrigued.

"I am the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. Really." The blue-haired woman threw her head back and laughed like a dirty hyena. The effect made everyone on the bus cry and bleed. "Would you like to come and meet the celebrated Romantic poet William Blake at a dive bar down the road?" continued T. Ultrachrist.

"Are you asking me out?" said the blue-haired woman. T. Ultrachrist smiled. She knew the answer to this question.

"I have a bed covered in the semen of several adult black men." There was a noticeable pause. Then the blue-haired woman nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign.

"My name is Terra Branford" said the blue-haired woman "but you can call me Mom."