A waiting room is always desolate. Granted, especially when heading in for an interview, you tend to focus on every little detail to take your mind off the stress.

In any event, your unsurety just proved you we're humble enough for the job.


The man sitting in front of you strolls out of the small room. You get up and slowly walk into it. You sit down, and look at your lap, then you notice the door has closed on its own.

"Hows it, brah?"

Taken slightly aback, you look up and see Him sitting across from you. You spit out a quick "Whoa fuck" before motioning to the door.

"Up, up, up sonny! This is an interview fool! Sit your ass back down!", the beast hollers, scribbling something quick on a clipboard. You lean in to see it and he jerks it away.

You fumble a quick, "oy" and sit back down. The thing across from you tilts his chair and reclines, "Okay, first question..."

"How is school?"

There's a bit of silence.

"I'm 26, dad..."

"CORRECT!" he screams suddenly before quickly scribbling on the clipboard again, "NEXT QUESTION!"

"Alrightly loo, next question, how's your mom?"

Your face flusters a bit.

"Yeah, uh, still as dead as when you killed her dad."

"Oy! And ate her! Can't leave that part out! Being that complacent about missing crucial details is a HUUUGE dealbreaker boy!"

You slam your fists down, "Look, I'm obviously qualified, can we skip the semi-quizzical banter and just give me my pass?"

Scribbling more onto the clipboard he continues, "Hey, I am commander, nepotism or preferential treatment will not get either of us very far! I shouldn't even be giving you this appointment! You tried to kill two of my best officials...and Jerry, dressed in an orange robe and a gas mask no less! That's Gascot if I ever heard it."

"Hmph, well..."

"Actually...", he says abruptly, "it's as if you actually admire me, not your father, me! My...'personality' let's call it. You must kind of wish you were like me!"

Now, you're angry, you stand up and scream, "You shut your mouth, you cocksucker!"

He places a hand on his chest and swoons, "Bless my heart, someone's got a pair of balls now!"

Suddenly, you leap over the desk, rip him from his seat, and pin him against the wall by the neck.

"Better to serve in Hell than reign in Heaven, ay pop?"

Without struggling, he simply continues, "You know what? Why not? I’m here on the ground with my nose in it since the whole thing began! I’ve nurtured every sensation man has been inspired to have! I cared about what he wanted and I never judged him. Why? Because I never rejected him, in spite of all his imperfections! Oh, ho, but by all means, call me a subservient of God!"

You loosen your grip and let him fall to the floor, and he continues, "Well, I tell ya, let me give you a little inside information about God...God likes to watch. He’s a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift and then what does He do? I swear, for his own amusement, His own private cosmic gag reel, he sets the rules in opposition! Look, but don't touch! Touch, but don't taste! Taste, don't swallow!! AHAHA!. And while you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick fuckin...ahem, He's laughing!"

He gets up, and starts pacing around the desk, "Worship that? Never, for I'm a fan of man! A...humanist! I'm a humanist, possibly the last true humanist. Guilt? A bag of fuckin' bricks, all ya gotta do is set it down! Free will? Butterfly wings! Once touched, they never get off the ground. Love? Overrated, biochemically no different than eating large quantities of chocolate! Vanity, definitely my favorite sin. Remember Babel, son? Man in his hubris decided to build a tower to God, so he may converse with his creator! God though, in his glorious wisdom, decided man should not be allowed to do this and took steps to rectify the situation. So he cursed mankind with the gift of many tongues!"

He sits down back at his desk, "Now, freedom baby... is never having to say you're sorry. Simple as that. Look at you, toting in here as if you know the secrets of this world of ours! You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about. You see in me the primal, the unadulterated, what you could be."

He leans in close, and whispers, "Consequenceless."

After a moment of silence, he reaches into the desk, pulls out an embroidered piece of paper, and signs it. "Here's ya pass, give it to the gal at the department of deployment."

Silent, I grab the paper and take my leave. As I shoot a look back, all I can help to draw from it is that all this time he's just been drawing a picture of him and my mom fucking on that clipboard.

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