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December 3, 2007

Monday

You are preparing for a meeting with (any) God.

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David: Hangin' with the Boss

“What should I wear? I have nothing to wear! I should buy a suit. He likes white, right?”

“Dude, chill. He won’t care what you’re wearing. He’s seen you naked, remember?”

“Chill? Are you joking? This is going to be the most important moment in my life. It has to be perfect.”

“Naw, man. He’s cool.”

“I have to go shopping!”

--

The doorbell rings. Outside stands a man in cut-off jeans, a Grateful Dead T-shirt, and a halo of glory. He looks at his host and says, “Oh, crap, was this formal?” He waves his hand. “I’m not here yet.”

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Dave - The Big Interview

Okay.  Okay.  I can do this. 

Intro.   "Hi! I love your work!"  That is so dumb.  Rework it.  Three major questions, follow-up if there's time.  Ha -- infinite time, right? 

Okay, notes in my pocket.  Don't want to trust to memory.

Hmmm ... maybe drop the "Problem of Evil" down to #2, move the "Meaning of Life" up -- it's more feel-good -- I hope -- less of a challenge.  Ease into things.

My breath okay?  Hair?  Ha -- no need for silent prayer.

Secretary's inviting me in.  Okay, here we go.  I can do this.

I can --

Oh.

My.

God.

I think I'm in a lot of trouble.

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Ted: Eighth Day

The Petitioner braved through to the Throne.

"Lord God Jehovah, I come to judge you. You stand accused of instigating a five thousand year reign of terror marked by racism, sexism, homophobia, murder, rape, pillage, plunder, violation of basic human rights You instigated, commingling of funds, and money laundering."

"You studied scripture from age two until you died at eighty-three. You were the premiere scholar, consulted by popes and mullahs, rabbis and pagans. No man in history has known more about religion than you.

Of course I plead guilty.

I hope you do a better job, because I am retiring."

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Michele: In Vain

God’s waiting room was filled with imposing statues and a translucent secretary. I was out of my element. I thought about leaving.

“God will see you now.”

God was waiting in a recliner. “You have sixty seconds. Go.”

“I…these are disposable wings. So…when someone gets..uh…discharged, you just throw them out and….” I fumbled with the sample wing; it slipped from my hand, crashing to the floor. “God fucking damn it.”

Shit.

God stared me down.

“Oh Jesus. My boss is going to kill me.”

”Yes. He is. I’ll see you back here at 5:43. “ He smiled. “Wear disposable wings.”

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From The Comments: shinjukri

Mitchell's unease increased in tempo with the Client's tentacle slapping.
Was It impatient? Hard to tell with no eye contact (discouraged, for
mental health reasons).

Supernatural Endorsements was the ass-end of Metaphysical Marketing's very
diverse holdings, but after his last fiasco (Vacation Dis: Take the
Fifth!) he couldn't be too choosy.

But the Great Old Ones account quite unmanned him. (The ill-received
Cthulhu For Tang promotion from the '60s was legendary.)

So maybe he rushed the closer...

And our motto: With the Snoozy-Rest mattress, it's "R'lyeh to bed,
R'lyeh to rise..."

Mitchell's screams of evisceration echoed across three alternate dimensions.

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