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MyBleedingToe

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/MyBleedingToe/35511">The travels of the Messiah! (Prologue)</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">1</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/MyBleedingToe/35511"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/35511.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 1	The travels of the Messiah! (Prologue)
+ 5	My purest dove

The sun sweltered, the desert sands stung and Jesus' Ipod had just run out of battery! "Jesus Christ!" he screamed, too exhausted to care for the irony, "What happened to Peter Petrelli?" he moaned, halfway through an episode of 'Heroes'. Jesus fell to his knees, feet clad in sand covered Converse and skinny jeans tight against his thighs. "NOOO!" he bellowed to the empty sky.

 Two metres behind him, Matthew and John murmured to each other, scared but amused. "The big man sends this dunce to save us from our sins?" Matthew remarked, rather asking himself in disbelief than his fellow disciple. "He's screaming about a flat battery when he can heal lepers? This is fucked!" John replied, somewhat louder to be heard over Jesus' exclamation of 'noooo'.

Then Jesus' stopped, his long, black dyed hair falling over his mascara outlined eyes. He looked down at his Ipod and saw a glimmer of battery in the little icon. All was stable... for now.

 In the distance a few birds were attacking each other, the heat blurring thier figures. Jesus flicked open his mobile phone and auto dialled Judas and was shocked to not hear a tone. He flicked his fringe aside and glanced at the sand speckled screen, only to see no bars on his reception. He drew a deep breath, ready to scream 'nooooo' again when Matthew bludgeoned him with a large rock. the messiah fell to the ground, unconscoius. "Fuck up you little shit!" he screamed, and booted the limp figure on the ground. With that, John and Matthew briskly walked away, leaving their lord and saviour in the sand ridden carpark of a McCafe'.

 And then he dreamed...

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