[Pt. 2 of 3]
I find God where I left him, napping on his throne at the source of the Crystal River, with his Lamb curled up and snoozing by his side. The two look so peaceful, reclining there together and breathing serenely. Of course, I could simply tug God’s sleeve to wake him; but I have a better idea. So I climb up onto his belly and carefully clip a novelty necktie to his tunic. The trick aspect of this tie is that its extra-large knot is actually a nuclear bomb — not a fake one, for looks, but a fully functional Weapon of Mass Destruction. (This monster-size explosive/knot has silken material extending downwards from it like a regular necktie, whose exterior is decorated with a repeating pattern of sheep against a background of green hillocks; hence its name, in the Fun Gifts for Dad catalog where I ordered it: “The Lamb-Bomb Tie”.) — I now climb down off of God’s paunch and hold the detonation mechanism before me; then I press the enormous red “BOOM” button determinedly, and the nuke bomb goes off.
God awakes and looks around, slightly surprised; and his Lambkin wakes as well and starts frolicking beside him. When God sees me rolling back and forth on the ground, doubled over in laughter, he soon begins to laugh too.
[NOTE. This scene proves how good of an actor I am, because, although I appear convincingly mirthful throughout the sequence, the reality is that I was actually infuriated — I even tendered my resignation from the film on this very day. My beef was that, after his necktie nuke exploded, God insisted on doing the rest of the scene in blackface, reasoning that, in all the animated cartoons that he’s ever viewed, this is how a character always appears after getting caught in a violent explosion. I argued that it’s an offensive idea and should not be done. But God somehow ended up convincing our whole production crew and all their guardian angels that he is good and I am bad.]
“Ha, ha,” I say. “Rise and shine. I hope you had a nice nap. The world went to shit while you were resting. Where is everyone, by the way? Are the angels no longer fighting? I hear they’re back to making pornos now.”
“That is true,” replies God.
“What happened while I was gone?” I ask.
“Well, after you gave me those spiked boots with the realistic blood that keeps dripping from their soles,” God sez, “all the angels collectively gasped, whether they were true to Jehovah’s Jesus or to the Jesus of Lucifer; and when they got wind of the glowing glass horseshoes with which you shod Lambkin here, they called a truce. I believe that they were desirous of avoiding two things — firstly, they feared that I myself had entered the fray, on account of my violent new footwear with its thick blood oozing continuously from dispensers between the soccer cleats; and, secondly, they were worried that if they continued to fight all day and night forever, they might miss the cute little tap-dances that Lambkin spontaneously performs several times each day. So your generous gifts to us accomplished the impossible: You actually stopped the War in Eden and circumvented the necessity of a Final Judgment on Earth. No longer will I need to punish Satan perpetually (whoever Satan turns out to be, whether the unmasking reveals that it’s my son Jehovah or his twin brother Lucifer — or perhaps one of their Christs) and we can now convert Hell into a permanent grill and warming chamber for hotdogs. How’s THAT for bad taste?”
God and I share an unscripted laugh, because I momentarily forget how improper and unmannerly he is. But quickly I return to my senses and murmur:
“So everything’s harmonious now, and I myself saved the day?”
“That’s correct,” God sez. And he pats my head. And his Lamb licks my hand. “We no longer need any religion or churches anymore, and you can throw away all the Bibles... no, on second thought, recycle them: for we can use the paper to print menus for all our Diners. We’re gonna have a lotta cooked meat to sell, now that Hell is a Kitchen.” And God laughs for the rest of eternity.
Then it starts to thunder, and rain begins to fall. I hold a newspaper over my head and walk away.
[To be continued...]
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