by Jason Alan
Hey God. I must say that I was fairly certain I’d never see you. I was agnostic when I was alive.
I know, Jason. I am God the Almighty, creator of everything and all that jazz. But I have to send you back. You died too early. Clerical error.
Wait, but aren’t you infallible and omnipotent? How could you possibly make a mistake?
It wasn’t mine. You know how humans like to get drunk and/or high on something, or meditate or exercise? For me, I shut down what you would think of as my brain for a while and let the angels handle the multiverse.
I knew it. Multiverse. Fuck yeah. Anyway, before I go back to life as I know it, can I ask you a few questions?
Sure. I already know what they are, but go ahead and inquire my son.
Ok cool. So, why exactly did you make our waste and sexual organs not only so close together, but some even exactly the same? Seriously, why do I piss and drop off semen from the same place?
*puts holy fingers to his temples* Life is very complicated to make properly. You aren’t smart enough to understand. Or, you could be dreaming and I don’t exist.
I’m not falling for this shit. You’re real, I can tell. I’ll let you slide on that question but what about this one. When I go back, can I tell anyone I met you?
Yes, but most likely you will be thought of as crazy.
Good point. Alright, what if I tell them about the multiverse thing? I know that it’s true now.
But of course, nothing more scientifically viable than ‘God told me’. Remind them I spoke to you through your dog.
Well, I suppose I’m ready to go back. Thanks, God, I’m enchanted, truly. One last question. How did I die?
Huh. I guess I figured that. Probably alcohol poisoning or coke.
No, but close. It was aspirin. You mistook them for oxy.
Ain’t that a bitch. If I took the equivalent of oxy, I’d have survived.
Ok. Bye for now God. Nice to meet you.
Peace out, nigga. Keep it real.