Santos: Heavenly Father, hallowed be thy name, I gotta problem. I kinda fucked up, and they’re on to me.
God appears, startling Santos.
God: George, my man! I found you!
Santos: Wha… Who the fuck are you? How’d you get in my house?
God raises a fist; lightning flashes followed by a ear-shattering thunderclap.
God: George, George, I’m God. You know, the guy you never pray to? I think it was … what …
Santos: I’m sorry, Lord! (gets on his knees) I promise to worship you every day!
God: Oh, get the fuck up. Who ever said I want all that bowing and scraping? I hate that.
Santos: (looks perplexed, rises slowly)
God: And quit lying to me. Last time you prayed to me was when you were nineteen and wanted to fuck that surfer dude in Miami, and he was straight. Remember him?
Santos: (looks ashamed) I don’t remember.
God: Yes you do. But screw that. George, I’ve got a problem, and you’re just the guy. I need your help. How’d you do it?
Santos: My help?
God: Do I have to repeat myself, George?
Santos: Sorry, Lord! Do what?
God: Oh, come on, George. I’m God. I know what you did. How’d you do it? I mean, all that lying, you get busted, and you’re still in Congress. That is so cool! All those Republicans, (fingers in ears), la la la la la … (removes fingers, laughs) I mean, you’re a genius! How’d you do it?
Santos: Forgive me Lord, I don’t understand.
God: How’d you do it? Lie your ass off, and not get busted?
Santos: Um … I don’t know, I just … you know, you have to just say it like you mean it.
God: Nah, there’s gotta be more than that. Come on, George.
Santos: Well, I guess. I mean, you know, never tell a little lie. If you’re going to do it, go big. The bigger the better. People call you on little shit. But if you make up something big, people think it must be true. I mean, nobody would make up something that big.
God: That makes no sense, George!
Santos: Look, you’re the one who asked.
God: And that’s it? Just tell big lies?
Santos: I’m sorry, but … look, if you’re God…
God raises fist, more thunder and lightening.
Santos: OK, OK! But since you’re God, don’t you know everything?
God: Ah, right. You see, George, there’s the problem right there. You ever read the Bible?
Santos: Of course!
God: Quit shitting me, George.
Santos: Ok, ok, maybe a little.
God: You know, back in the good old days, like when Abraham was running around, and all those Jews got lost in the desert?
Santos: (looks perplexed)
God: Right, you never read that. Anyway, back then, I was just a pretty regular god. You know, smiting armies, causing floods, famines. Good shit, that. And I had lots of god buddies! You know, Thor and Zeus, Apollo, Medusa … and Baal (looks dreamy), man, she was hot! You know, she and I used to … never mind. Anyway, I just hung out over there in Israel, nobody else knew who I was. Man, those were the days.
Santos: Yeah, I heard about that, but…
God: (interrupting) But the power kinda went to my head, you know. It wasn’t enough. I started telling everyone I was something else. You know, created the universe, knows everything, all-knowing, all-wise, all-powerful. Pretty cool stuff, right George?
Santos: Um, yeah… I mean…
God: Yeah, and it worked, too! Took a couple thousand years, but man, look at me now! My crew used to be a couple thousand poor goat herders wandering in the desert, and now I’ve got what, a couple billion?
Santos: I get that. Fame is cool I really dig this Congress thing. Everybody knows me now!
God: And that Michelangelo guy, he even painted me on the ceiling! (another dreamy look)
Uncomfortable silence…
Santos: So, um, God, Lord, what do you need from me?
God: (looking down from his dreamy state) Oh, right. Yeah, see George, I’m not that guy. And the atheists are figuring it out. You know, science, philosophy, astronomy, geology. My stories are coming apart, George! Those geologists piss me off, I had such a good story about creating the universe in six days! And they go on about their fossils and radiocarbon dating, what a disaster!
Santos: I know, right?
God: And the philosophers. Damn them! I had everyone convinced, you know, God created the universe, because it had to come from somewhere, am I right?
Santos: Of course!
God: But they’re like, where did God come from?
Santos: Good question!
God: (thunder and lightining) Don’t piss me off, George!
Santos: Sorry!
God: Anyway, how’d you do it, George? I thought I had this solid, but it’s coming apart.
Santos: Well, about that … I’m not doing so good, God. That’s why I was praying.
God: Tell me, son.
Santos: You know, this lying stuff. Sooner or later, I guess they figure it out.
God: But you were just sworn in to Congress! You’re the man!
Santos: Yeah, they need me. But trust me, God, I got a bad feeling. Those Democrats – you know some of them are atheists, right?
God: Damn them!
Santos: Them and those reporters, they’re on to me. I don’t think I’m gonna last. McCarthy needed my vote, but now that he’s got it nailed, I’m a liability. God, I think I’m in trouble.
God: So, you’re saying…
Santos: We’re going down, both of us.
God: Shit.
Santos: Yeah. Can you help?
(Both sit down, looking glum.)
God: I have an idea!
Santos: Yeah?
God: Aren’t there a lot of Democrats in California?
Santos: Sure.
God: Yeah, a flood! I love floods. I think I’ll go smite California some more. What do you think?
Santos: Um, sure. Yeah. But how does that help me?
God: Dude, you’re on your own. I don’t actually answer prayers. Fuck, you knew that, right? I mean, you’d have to be dumb not to figure that out.
Santos: (looks deflated) So you’re not…
God: (interrupting) Then maybe an earthquake. And just when they think it’s done, another drought. Gotta go, George. Thanks for the talk, man.
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