Ficlets

Divine Comedy

“G! How’s it going?”

God shook his head. “Do you have to call Me that?”

“Well, since the folks here couldn’t handle knowing who’s sitting near them, I figured it’s better than calling You God, Yahweh, or whoever You are this week.” Satan took a seat. “I already ordered You an herbal tea. Uh… Can you spot Me a fiver? I’m a little short. I’ll pay You back.”

“Right. How do I know I’ll never see it again?” God sighed.

“Because You’re all knowing, all seeing, and, hey, I have a rep to maintain. So, what did You need to see me about?” Satan asked, taking a sip coffee.

God looked crestfallen. “I need Your help.”

Satan sprayed coffee everywhere. “Sorry, folks (not). You need what?! You? Need My help?” Satan laughed. “Oh, man! You’re…! You…! Man, I can’t wait to tell the other Fallen about this! You’re kidding, right?” He laughed even louder, annoying the other patrons.

God looked up, smirked, then broke out laughing himself. “April Fool’s!” Satan stared. “Who says I don’t have a sense of humour?”

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