“That’s a bit hard when time also hasn’t been invented yet, don’t you think?”
They bickered as gods do, because despite near-infinite cosmic powers there wasn’t much else to do. It’s hard to be content when you’re too big to fit into the concept of being, and that’s why they decided to create creation in the first place. I don’t know. It made sense at the time.
The petty threats and insults caromed through the not-quite-room, gaining life of their own because they were, after all, divine proclamations. In a quiet booth a few tables away, Fate waited inscrutably.
*drinks*
Late, uninvited and just in the nick of time, Mr. Mojo Sex Machine crashed the party. At once the squabbling stopped. The gods turned to face their common nemesis.
“Why are you here?” Big Daddy Rainmaker demanded.
“Don’t you have something more important to do, like jam your head up your ass?” Sparkle Princess chimed in. More was said, but none were as eloquent as these two gems.
“Please, please.” Mr. Mojo raised his hands for silence. “I know my presence makes you all terribly insecure, but I was invited by our good friend Fate. This project needs me.”
As one, the assembled divinities swiveled to glare at Fate, who stared back over his pint of fine autumn lager. They weren’t pleased but said nothing. It’s hard to argue with someone who knows how and when you die, and does nothing but smirk when you ask if it will be embarrassing.
“Very well,” Big Daddy Rainmaker conceded. “You may stay.”
“All right!” Mr. Mojo Sex Machine pulled an almost-chair up to the un-table and rubbed his hands together in delight and anticipation. “Can we get some buffalo wings for brain food or did you already decide buffalo won’t get wings?”
Ignoring him, Big Daddy Rainmaker continued, “We were discussing what form humanity should take.”
“There is no better form than my—our own!” Thunderdome proclaimed, slamming his fist into the un-table once again, causing the cutlery to jump.
“You might want to be careful with that,” Mr. Mojo said. “You only have the one fist and it would be a shame to wear it out.”
“I am eternal, funny man,” Thunderdome replied. “As you should well—”
“Whereas I believe something more sophisticated and dignified is appropriate,” Sparkle Princess interrupted, trying to reclaim the center of attention.
Stinky Kid coughed into his crusty hand. “Unicorn whore.”
“Children,” Oceania warned, and the fighting started again.
*drinks*
Eventually, the argument calmed down enough for all assembled to remember their original purpose. Mr. Mojo Sex Machine took the opportunity to inject some wisdom into the discussion.
“It doesn’t matter what they look like,” he said.
“Impossible!” Big Daddy Rainmaker cried. “We are gods. Everything we do has meaning!”
Mr. Mojo farted, and thus new holy gospel was born.
Oceania wrinkled her nose in distaste. “This is our grandest creation ever,” she proclaimed, “for humans must see our glory in themselves and be moved to worship.”
“And possess such beauty they may glance at each other and never lose hope,” Sparkle Princess said.
“The strength to shape mountains and tame the skies!” Thunderdome added.
“And motivation to excel, driven by an irrational hatred of unicorns,” Stinky Kid mumbled.
Mr. Mojo Sex Machine pshawed that all away with a wave of his hand. “Just give them two sets of interlocking dangly bits and they’ll be too busy to worry about that other stuff.”
The gods paused. “…dangly bits?” they asked almost in unison, knowing full well they wouldn’t like the answer.
“You know, so they can make more of each other.”
“Why would they need to make more of each other when we will create the perfect amount?”
Mr. Mojo threw his hand up in despair and said a quick prayer to himself that their eyes might be opened to wisdom. Believing themselves eternal, the other gods could not conceive of creations that were not. They argued the point for eternities, and despite the opposition of every other god, Mr. Mojo would not surrender the point. Since the way of things before there were things required the opinion of everyone invited be taken into account, the universe stalled, almost tripping into oblivion before it had a chance to be.
Forgotten in his almost-booth, Fate watched and waited, ordered another drink. This was going to be a long night.
*drinks*
“Why don’t we move on then?” Big Daddy Rainmaker proposed, his voice dripping frustration, which he had just invented so everyone would know exactly how displeased he was with the lack of progress. Still, no headway appeared possible and everyone had tacitly turned politician, deciding the issue could wait until after they invented elections. “How shall humanity live?” he tried instead. “What will motivate them to the utmost heights of introspection and achievement? How shall they interact among themselves to bring glory to we gods?”
Again, Oceania was the first to answer, with passion that swelled like the tides. “They shall be wise in the ways of nature,” she proclaimed, “of wave and wind, storm and snow. They shall converse with animals and trees, be guided by the fertile earth, and all shall be better for it.”
“They shall accord each other firm dignity, be solemn when solemnity arises, and joyful when their hearts be free. All shall meet as equals under the unending sky!” Thunderdome added. He started to thump the not-table again, but an irritated look from Big Daddy Rainmaker stopped him in mid-exclamation.
“Though the world be beautiful, they shall shape it lovelier still and the forests and plains will ring with laughter and delight,” Sparkle Princess said.
“And every full moon they shall make burnt offerings of unicorn meat in the humble recognition that for all their glory, there are forces still more powerful than they.”
“Not if there is no moon.”
“Then how would anyone see unicorns at night?”
“Children!”
After that argument subsided, Mr. Mojo Sex Machine started another one.
“And what of those who cheat and steal, kill and maim? Who seek power not for progress, but for their own petty aims? What will be done with them?”
Again, the almost-room rang with offended incredulity. How could a creation of the gods be less than the gods themselves? It was inconceivable, an affront to the very dignity of space and time. Only a churl would speak such heresy.
In the shadows, Fate watched and said nothing. Time did not pass, because there was no time to pass.
*drinks*
Sighing, Big Daddy Rainmaker rubbed his temples. “Is everyone clear on what democracy is?” he asked, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain it again. He wasn’t sure he completely trusted democracy himself, but something had to be done or they’d never finish making the blasted world.
Stinky Kid was the first to answer. “It means that if enough of us don’t like unicorns, there won’t be unicorns.”
Big Daddy Rainmaker, not fully foreseeing how his invention of frustration would affect him, whirled on Stinky Kid. “What the hell is your problem with unicorns?” Lightning light-years wide flashed in his eyes. Everyone else backed away from the table a little, not that they’d admit if you asked them later.