God said unto His Son
(Polti Category 33: Errenous Judgement)
Kristoffer Lawson
20 March 2006

God was sitting with His Son enjoying some quality time in a huge room with
walls which appeared to be built from various kinds of monitors, each
displaying colourful moving images. It was His project room. The central
control room where all the action took place, and a matter of great pride.
God was telling His Son, in a proud voice, of the various worlds and
lifeforms He had created. There were the Shewbahoops, with their triple
mouths and their tiny, wrinkled ears. Loved talking, hated listening. There
were pictures of the Peedlebongers, who were basically puddles of mud which
had somehow evolved into creatures capable of intergalactic travel. Then
there were the Yippies -- small flying things with swirling rainbows of
colour on their backs. Nobody really knew what they were for. And there were
many, many more, both large and small, both slow and fast, both advanced and
simple. God had created a universe of stories and obviously loved telling
them to His Son, who listened intently.

"Yes, I made 'em too, the critters," He said, pointing vaguely at one area
of the room, "Pesky lot they are, always causing trouble. Stay well away
from them. Never did enjoy their company myself. Kind of an early attempt
really. Gas beings are just too difficult to manage as you can see," he
said, nodding at one of their nameless wars which tended to continue for
centuries.

He then turned round to another display, one he was more happy about. 

"Ah yeah, now that's a fancy bunch there. Nice pretty wee dresses and always
so polite. I'd marry one myself if I wasn't God and all that."

His Son was not listening. He was intrigued with another display in the
corner. "Who are they?", he asked, pointing at the rather modest creation.

"Who ... oh them. A later experiment. Humans I call them. I tried to make
them look a bit like myself, but it didn't really work out that way. Might
give it another go some day."

"They look quite nice," His Son said.

"Ah, but don't let appearances fool you, my boy. They're naughty as hell
itself. Look at that just now. First that guy, Adam, keeps whining about the
lack of women, going on and on about how he needs one to make himself whole
and wants someone to keep him company, and whatever noble crap he comes up
with, when really all he wants is a bit of rumpety rump rump, if you know
what I mean". His Son looked confused as God shook his hips around for a
bit.

"Now, I gave him that lady there, seeing as I'm all kind and merciful and
whatever, and just look what's going on. I mean, I specifically told the
idiot not to eat that bloody apple and there he goes, eating the forbidden
fruit just so he can get a bit of action with the lady. Forgets all about
me, he does. It's not like the apple is important or anything. Hell, I'd eat
it meself if I was down there, good as it looks. But it's the principle!"

"What principle?" His Son asked, still finding the hip movements odd.

"Well I told him not to eat it. I create him that world and all that stuff
for him but told him not to touch that fruit. I have no idea why, but it
felt like a good idea at the time. You know, to test him a bit. Yet, there
he goes, down the path to damnation. Same old thing happens every time.

And you know what? Look who's behind it again. A woman. I tell you son, you
watch out with 'em ladies. You think you rule the world and all, but let a
woman get you round her finger and she'll bite it off she will, you with it.
Yer ma is no different. You take my word for it."

As if his words had been prophetic they heard a sudden thump, thump, thump
of footsteps coming down the staircase. God sighed. His Son watched, waited,
hardly breathing as Ma bounded through the door.

"I thought I told you to bring our boy outside instead of keeping him stuck
in here all day. I can never trust you to do anything right, can I? Well I'm
not doing it for you so get off your sad old arse and out the door while I
take care of things in here. And bring out the rubbish too while you're at
it. It's been sitting there smelling by the door all day."

With that she was off again. God was fuming. It seemed He would never have a
chance to show His Son all those projects He was so keen about. Always one
thing or another came up. But there was no arguing with Ma on things like
this, so what is a man supposed to do? He got up, beckoned at His Son and
slapped his fist on the wall of screens saying, "God damnit", before
striding out the door.