It was the early days
of the Earth, God had just created man and was watching from his window in his
large white office, at the top of his large white building which hovered in the
sky perched on a cloud. The planet was a
utopia, every man was a King, every woman a Queen, every child a Prince or
Princess and all of his other creatures were either starters or main courses
for mankind, the Lord’s greatest creation.
With his head slumped in his hands, his long white beard
spilling over his palms dangling around his wrists, God watches discontent with
how everything is going with man. He has
given them intelligence, imbued them with a soul and conscious thought but
they’re lazy and arrogant and self-fulfilling.
They are not what he expected, not made in his image, more an image of
the brat he was when he half-assed made the other planets in the Galaxy, none
of which (of course) could sustain life.
Knocking twice on the large white door the Arch-Angel
Gabriel waits for the call to come
before turning the perfect pearl handle springing the latch and entering the
room casting a brilliant, truth-seeking light through the white corridors of
the impressively white monolith of a building.
‘Have you seen them all down there?’ says God poking on
the window with his index finger.
‘I haven’t sir, I haven’t had the time really, is it
marvelous? Is it a sight to
behold? The greatest creation of your
existence?’
‘No.’
‘Ah.’
‘They’re ignorant, I give them intelligence. I give them the wonder of an inquisitive mind
and what do they do with it?’
‘Nothing sir?’ shoots Gabriel.
‘You bet your ass Gabe, nothing. Look at that
one. The entire world at his feet, a
realm of infinite possibilities and potential achievements and all he can do is
play with his prick.’ moans God.
‘He does seem to be really going for it.’ Gabriel adds
studying the primitive man whacking away at himself.
‘Dicks and cunts.
That’s all they’re involved in, day in, day out. All they think about is their dicks and their
cunts, all the do is screw and tug and suck.
And if they’re not thinking with their dicks and their cunts then
they’re talking out their bungholes trying to impress someone who has a dick or
a cunt.’
Sensing God is coming to the point of the problem Gabriel
puts a hand on his bosses shoulder, a sympathetic linger that will allow him to
know he understands, he’s there, he’s available for promotion whenever the
G-Man sees fit.
‘Are you,’ Gabriel treads carefully ‘sir, excuse me if
I’m way off but are you feeling this tiniest bit…’
‘Neglected, unloved, forgotten, unappreciated, spurned,
abandoned, you name it Gabe and I’m it… I’m a fucking wallflower up here. Not one
of them have so much as looked to the sky and questioned how did I get here? Where
is here? What is the meaning of life?’
‘And what is the
meaning of life, sir?’
‘To love me,’ God moans ‘they’re little more than toys to
me, pets, not as difficult to house train as others but pets nonetheless… so why do they not even give me the
slightest ounce of attention?!!’
The roar of the voice of God shakes the building in its
foundations, the chandeliers rattle in their fittings, the clouds bloat and
turn black instantly before a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning flashes
in the brooding sky but still mankind plays with and fucks themselves
blind. On his feet God paces back and
forth around the office, his sandals clapping against the white tile flooring.
‘I put bones down there you know, great big bones from
carnivorous animals and have made it look like they’ve been there for millions
of years.’
‘Very good sir.’
‘I figured they’d explore and dig and build and in doing
so they’d discover them, and name them and ponder how old the planet is and how
they got their and turn to the sky and know my name. Know my face.’
‘But they haven’t?’ Gabriel’s voice winces.
‘You better believe they haven’t. Eat, sleep, shit, screw. That’s all
they know. One of them even tried to
fuck their own food, I watched him hollow out a coconut before ploughing his
turkeyneck into it.’
‘They’re all animals sir.’
‘They are.’ God cries ‘Oh, how right you are Gabe. I’ve been thinking about going back to the
lab and making a few who have knowledge…you know…of me…’
‘Hmmmm.’
‘They’d spread the word, they’d come to worship me Gabe
and I’d feed them knowledge and wisdom.’
‘They’d reject you sir.’
‘They would not.’
‘They would, you’ve given them everything too easy and
they’ve rejected everything except for the most basic of primitive instincts.’
Gabriel says ‘You’ve got to make it so that they discover you all by
themselves.’
Slowly, God walks back to the window. An orgy is taking place, dicks and cunts and
bungholes getting worked, everywhere.
‘Go on.’
‘You’ve given them a utopia Lord, you’ve given them the Earth
and the stars and all they want is orgasms.
You should give them something to lament upon, something that will make
them turn their noses to the sky and ask, why?
You should give them plague and famine and unpleasantness and sorrow and
death and aids and murder and rape and war and when the world is a simmering
shit-hole filled with cum and puke they’d never want to fuck in let alone live
on they’ll ponder where it all went wrong, and where they came from and why man
has turned on man, killed brother, raped sister and ate daughter.’
‘I like that. Do
you think we could get started on that this afternoon?’ God asks.
‘It’s already started sir.’
Pointing towards the ground Gabriel’s finger charts a
path along a continent to a hill. The
lightning spat from the sky in God’s rage has split a tree in two. Thick branches lay discarded everywhere. Raising one up above his head a man walks
across a plush green field where a blonde couple are fucking. With an almighty swing of the branch he caves
the back of the male’s head in, brains drop out like puss from a pimp as the
body goes limp and falls off the woman, blood spilling and seeping everywhere. Screaming she goes to rise but the branch
swinging murderer is quicker than she is, and in an instant he’s on her,
pushing up tight inside of her. Three onlookers rush to the river and quickly baptize each other in the name of their newly discovered creator.
Sitting by his window in the clouds with a milky coffee
in his hand God watches as his people descend into the depths of their own soul
and in an attempt to justify their own behaviour point their nostrils to the
sky and ask God why, why have you made me this way? The voices fill the room through a dozen
discreetly placed speakers, millions of people all wanting to talk to God, who
has decided he no longer wants to listen.
