God has more words with Michele
Michele? . . . Michele! Where the hell are you, Michele?
Oh, Marcus, don’t you dare swear at me!
I’m not Marcus.
Stop kidding, Marcus!
I’m not kidding; I’m not Marcus. There you are: in the wine cellar you say you don’t have.
[sharp intake of breath] Huuuuuuuuuuuh! An intruder! Don’t touch me; I’m armed!
[snorts] Go ahead and shoot, Michele. Maybe you’ll hit a bottle of something cheap.
[shakily] Come out where I can see you! Who are you?
I Am That I Am.
[another sharp intake of breath] Huuuuuuuuuuuh! You’re God!
Gee, I’ve always wanted to use that. It’s a great movie line. Glad you got it, Michele.
My god – I’m sorry – the place is such a mess. You should have told me you were coming!
I’m always here. Remember?
Oh, that’s right. Is something wrong? Is Marcus okay? Do you have something you want to tell me?
No. Yes. Yes.
I just answered your questions.
Let’s see. No. Yes. Yes. Okay, what do you want to tell me?
Ixnay on the Odgay Pokesmansay business.
Knock it off on the prophecy stuff; you’re really bad at it.
Well, Lord, I just try to channel you.
That’s what I mean. You have a complete tin ear for Me. You’re a terrible prophet, or do you prefer prophetess?
As you wish. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, please don’t tell people I sicced a hurricane on them because of US foreign policy. It makes Me sound like a jerk. Jesus. [off stage: What, Dad?] Never mind, Junior.
Well, aren’t you a vengeful God?
Didn’t Junior teach you anything? Falwell or Robertson – I can’t remember which – pulled the same crap after Hurricane Andrew in 1992. That was Florida, and now we’re talking about the Carolinas. And by the way, that part of the country is where some of my biggest supporters live. Do you know what that makes Me look like?
Um, no, Lord. What?
A guy with a bad aim. That’s the part that really chaps My hide. As if I couldn’t take out Las Vegas with a single shot.
But the larger point, as your pal Katherine Kersten would say, is that I don’t appreciate being made out to be some kind of Meteorological Bogey Man. And it’s why I don’t want you and your brand of clerics – or any clerics, for that matter – in charge, especially of the government or foreign policy. It’s just a bad idea.
But, but . . .
No buts, Michele. Knock it off. See ya around.
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