Timecop: The Nativity

"I’ll tell you this; if I can’t go back to save her, this scumbag is not going back to steal money!" I screamed while climbing naked into the time rocket.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” the chief shouted. “Are you drunk?”

If by ‘drunk’ he meant ‘filled with revenge,’ then yes. And if by ‘revenge,’ he also meant whisky, then DOUBLE YES.

"DOUBLE YES!" I shouted, catching my balls in the seatbelt thingy. "Senator Aaron McComb has gone back in time to Jesus’s birthday, to steal all his presents to sell on space-eBay. And I’m going to fucking stop him, hard."

"Oh for God’s sake, Spurt. Why are you naked?"

"You have to be naked to travel through time." I snarled, pulling my scrotum from the cup holder. "It’s the rules. Like not having sex with your own mum, or touching yourself in the Wild West."

"Spurt," he pleaded, "You’re not well. Just climb down from there and we’ll get a janitor and a mop."

"CATCH YOU LATER, FUCKER!" I punched the ‘travel through time button’ and vanished. According to my Bible and my Quantum Leap activity book, the year was 0 A.D., and I was exactly in Bethlehem.

I’m Spurt Maximum: TIMECOP, and I’m heading back to the birth of Jesus to see how many spinning leg-kicks are needed to get the revenge out of a mad-man’s face. Statistically, it’s seven, but I’m a Timecop, not some fruity calculator scientist.

Time travel is not as complicated as everyone thinks; I arrived, as usual, in an exciting explosion of time-lightning and regular lightning. Judging from the crater full of charred donkey-carcass I was standing in, the time jump had been totally successful.

"I hope none of you guys had an important role to play in the future!" I laughed, not knowing that I had inadvertently averted the 2013 Horsemeat Lasagne Crisis.

As the smoke cleared, I observed that I was standing naked in front of a stable. Half the front wall was missing due to some shitlord crashing their time rocket into it. As I assessed the carnage, I noticed a man and woman a few feet away from the glowing remains of the Hadron Collider that had fallen off my ship. They were cowering behind a cow feeder with a baby in it.

"HA HA!" I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “This place is a fucking shit-hole. Nothing says ‘the birthplace of man’s salvation’ like the inescapable smell of paternity tests and animal faeces. Did you book this on Groupon?"

The couple stared wordlessly at me. The baby started crying. Apparently Away in a Manger was bullshit, and I made a mental note to stop in the 60s to punch Bing Crosby in the butthole. The woman started crying. Things were getting awkward; I needed to blend in. Time-coppery requires quick thinking, huge balls and a Standard Grade in History. I had 2 out of 3.

“Oh don’t mind me.” I said confidently. “I’m not from the future or anything. I’m just Spurt Maximum; a shepherd, who was totally at the birth of Jesus.” and I did a sweet judo somersault to convince them. The man cautiously approached me with his hands raised.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re not wearing any clothes, but my wife’s just had a baby. It’s late, she’s tired and we’d prefer a little privacy.”

"OH SHIT!" I said, "YOU’RE JOSEPH?"

"Um, yes." he said, perplexed.

"HA HA. Sorry to hear about the whole ‘God fucked your wife’ thing."

Enraged, Joseph threw a punch so weak, the air around it sued his fist for sexual harassment.

"I’m just kidding!" I explained, still laughing. I stepped neatly to the side and  bumped into three men dressed as the Burger King. They were adorned with jewels and fine silks and were laden with parcels in decorative paper and bows. They surveyed the scene in silent awe.

"We have come to pay tribute to the King of Kings," said the first guy.

 "And we bring gifts for the child who will save us all" said the one next to him.

"And I’ll just take them all and put them in the back of my hover-bike for safe keeping," said the third guy in the space helmet.

"Nice try, Senator Aaron McComb!" I yelled, tearing a fake beard from the front of his helmet. "Your disguise was almost perfect, but you forgot one thing..." I punched him in the throat."TIMECOPPED!"

"CURSE YOU, SPURT MAXIMUM!" Senator Aaron McComb hissed. "You’ve meddled in my schemes for the last time!" Grabbing baby Jesus from the manger, McComb drew a laser gun and pointed it at the infant’s head. “NOBODY DO ANYTHING STUPID, OR JESUS DIES”

'Don't do anything stupid' is jiu-jutsu for ‘absolutely do a somersault,’ so I even more absolutely did.
Pivoting gracefully over the panicking villain, I landed behind him in karate-stance and Spacejammed Jesus from his grip. With the son of God safely spinning 16 feet above the battle, I engaged McComb in a series of genital punches so savage, 3108 years in the future, his great-great-great-great-great-great grandson was staring at his slowly vanishing hand.

With McComb swiftly crippled, I smoothly caught Jesus safely in my arms. As I stood triumphant in the smouldering remains of the stable, the still shaking Joseph approached me.

"Seriously. I really don’t understand what just happened here, and I don’t want any more trouble, but could you PLEASE LEAVE?" Nervously he reached to take the son of God away from me. Baby Jesus smiled. “BLOOOO WAH”, he gurgled.

"What’s that, baby Jesus?" I replied, "You want me to punch this guy in the dick-hole as well?"

"W-what?" Stammered Joseph. "That’s not what he said..."

"Get used to it, asshole. Years from now EVERYONE is going to be totally misinterpreting the shit he said."

As I began to do the splits, another bolt of lightning shook the stable. The wall and three more donkeys exploded as the car from Knightrider emerged through a time vortex. Still glistening from the moist embrace of time travel, Teenwolf emerged shirtlessly from the front seat of KITT.

"SPURT!" Teenwolf howled, "Moses and the slaves need your help; do you happen to know anything about fighting unkillable Karate Mummies?"

"DO I?"

I smiled, and punched Joseph in the cock.