Monday, November 08, 2004
The Seed Is Planted
So Yahweh runs into Zeus in line at the 7-11-Heaven.
“Yahweh! What’s up? Out of cigarettes and nachos again, I see. What, no condoms?”
“You’re funny. I don’t use condoms. And these cigarettes are for Mary.”
“You don’t use condoms because you don’t have sex. At least not real sex.”
“Whaddya mean, ‘real’ sex?”
“Like getting hot and nasty with some lonely shepherdess you spot while floating on a cloud.”
“Have sex with a human? Outrageous! Disgusting! Nothing good can come of it.”
“C’mon, Yahweh. You know you’ve wanted to try it. I mean, really try it. Put on a disguise, and go down there, and do the horizontal bop with some cute human.”
“You mean, butt naked? In bed? Gross! I prefer the sanitary method of producing children. And one's enough. Just someone to carry on the family name.”
“If you tried it, you’d like it. Trust me.”
“You’re a pervert, Zeus. A real whacko. No wonder nobody voted for you. No wonder they all voted for those amendments outlawing human-deity sex. No telling what diseases you're spreading.”
“Hey, Yahweh, you talk. I hear you’re all lawyered up, demanding a recount.”
“I can’t talk about that.”
Clerk speaks up. “Hey, buddy, you gonna buy that stuff or what?”
“Hey, I gotta go anyway, Yahweh. I’m thinking I might go scouting for a nice human to seduce today, in disguise. Make some more demi-gods. Hah! Got 23 now, working on making a few hundred more. You should try it, I’m telling ya.”
“Damn pervert,” Yahweh mutters. But inside, he’s thinking. Why not another kid? And not with that damn drunken Mary, either, but someone more, well... someone nicer.
Zeus heads for the whipped cream and mayonnaise.