(Story) A Bad Day at the Office.
Posted: 2002-08-11 01:55am
This is something I wrote a couple years ago. A reference to the TOS episode "Who Mourns For Adonis?" in another thread made me think to post it.
-----------------------
Sighing his frustration, the heavyset man drummed his fingers and stared
fixedly at the telephone that stood alone in the center of his desk.
Finally, his patience exhausted, Odin picked his battle axe up from its
place on the floor and began to pace his sparsely decorated office. It
had
been an eternity since he had received any calls, and the lack of
attention
was grating on him. Abruptly the telephone rang, and the god's eyes
lit up.
Dashing over to the desk, he dropped his axe back on the floor and
snatched
up the receiver.
"Odin, God of the Norsemen, how may I help you?" he boomed in his most
impressive voice. A few moments passed, and Odin's face darkened. "No
this
isn't Jesus!" he bellowed angrily. Suddenly sensing an opportunity, he
softened his voice and continued. "Why worship a little wimp like Jesus
anyway? Why not worship a manly god like me, Odin?"
The door swung open, and a smallish man with long hair and a beard
poked his
head into the office. "Did I hear my name?" Jesus asked.
"Go away, I'm busy!" Odin replied annoyedly, waving the interloper off
with
his free hand.
Jesus just grinned. "The operator connected you with the wrong prayers
again, didn't she? Someone really should speak with her."
"I said go away!" Odin yelled, still trying to talk the misdirected
worshipper into converting.
"You can just transfer them to the line in my office, thanks. Mary will
pick it up." Jesus said. "By the way, when was the last time anyone
actually called for you?"
Odin slammed the phone down angrily. "I have my followers!" he said
defensively.
"Sure, a few." Jesus replied. "But how many of them live outside of
mental
institutions?"
"Beat it!" the Norse god screamed, grabbing his axe and flinging it in
the
general direction of the Messiah's head.
Jesus ducked back into the hallway as the weapon flew past him and
buried
itself in the opposite wall. Greatly amused, the Son of God chuckled to
himself as he continued down the hallway. He briefly contemplated going
back to his own office and letting his mother take a break from the
phones,
but discarded the idea and began looking for another less-than-busy
deity to
tease. Stopping at one of the seemingly endless doors, Jesus looked up
at
the nameplate. Grinning, he stuck his head into the office of Apollo.
The Greek god paid no attention to the intrusion, being entirely
engrossed
in a copy of Playboy. "You're not stroking your beef at the office are
you?" Jesus asked.
"If I were, I wouldn't stop for you." Apollo answered disdainfully,
never
looking up from his magazine.
"Well it's not like hordes of demanding worshippers are about to cut in
on
you, is it?" Jesus shot back.
"No it's not, and let me tell you, I'm ever so jealous of your
popularity."
Apollo said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Abruptly, he switched to
a
friendlier tone. "So Jesus, let me ask you a question."
Caught off guard, the Messiah just nodded.
"Okay." Apollo began. "Mary is your mother right?"
"Well, yeah." Jesus answered.
"And God, the Father, made her pregnant correct?" the Greek continued,
still
poring over his pictures of naked women.
"Yes, it's all written down." Jesus replied, not sure where this line of
questioning was going.
"And the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are all one entity right?"
Apollo asked.
"That's the going doctrine..." Jesus answered uncertainly.
"So in a way, you knocked up your own mother then!" Apollo concluded, a
smirk spreading across his face as he turned to the next page of his
magazine.
Jesus turned bright red. "Yeah, well..." he spluttered, looking for a
comeback. "Remember that episode of Star Trek, where the Enterprise
crew
kicked your ass?!"
"Yes, I remember the episode." Apollo answered tiredly. "It was
called 'Who
Mourns for Adonis?' and at least the guy playing me put up a bit of a
fight.
You, on the other hand, walked to the slaughter like a bloody sheep."
Before Jesus could reply, he continued. "Furthermore, it took a whole
starship to finish me off in that episode. You though, you were nailed
to a
stick by a couple of Roman soldiers."
"Listen here!" Jesus spoke up indignantly. "I died for the sins of the
world!"
"Oh spare me the bleating." Apollo said, finally closing the magazine.
He
decided to change the subject. "Did you hear? The latest ratings are
in
from the Vatican?"
"Really?" Jesus asked, his anger of a moment ago pushed aside.
"Yeah." Apollo answered. "You would have gotten them already if you
ever
stayed in your office."
"So what were they like?" Jesus asked anxiously.
Apollo picked up the Playboy and tossed it to Jesus, who caught it
instinctively. "You may as well sign up for a subscription now." he
said.
"You're going to have a lot of time on your hands in the future."
His patience exhausted, Jesus stormed out of the office and stomped off
down
the hall and into the cafeteria. As the various deities and demigods
stared
up from their lunch at him, he suddenly realized that he was still
holding
the Playboy. "Interesting articles, huh?" something with two heads
said.
"I... uh... just confiscated this from some sinners!" Jesus answered.
He
threw the magazine on the floor and halfheartedly stamped on it a few
times.
"Bad, bad pornography!"
Nobody seemed to be buying it. Mortified, Jesus bolted from the
cafeteria
and ducked through the first door he could find. He turned around and
found
himself looking at something resembling an elephant holding telephone
receivers in all eight of its hands. It looked at him quizzically,
curious
at the sudden interruption. The Messiah yelped and ran back out of the
room.
"Damned Hindus..." he muttered. This was turning out to be quite a bad
day.
Having had all he could stand of disrespectful pagans for one day, Jesus
decided to head upstairs and finally check on Mary. On his way to the
elevator, he bumped into three angels on their way out. Each carried a
large sledgehammer over his shoulder. "Hey guys, what are you up to?"
Jesus
asked.
"Oh, it's your dad again." the first angel said annoyedly. "We're
supposed
to break into the Smithsonian tonight and smash all the fossils."
"He keeps trying to pawn that 'young earth' routine off on the mortals,
and
then wonders why our numbers are down." Jesus said, irritation creeping
into
his voice. "Even the Catholics aren't buying that crap anymore."
"No wait, that's not the worst part!" the second angel interjected. He
tapped the third angel on the arm. "Tell him what he wanted us to do
first!"
"Okay." the third angel said, leaning his sledgehammer against the wall.
"This schmuck, I mean our Holy Father, wanted us to shove every stellar
object visible from Earth into a sphere 12,000 lightyears in diameter!"
"What?!" Jesus exclaimed. "Why would he want you to do that?!"
"Well see, it's the Baptists." the first angel explained. "They're
tired of
trying to explain how stars millions of lightyears away can be visible
in a
universe supposedly only 6,000 years old."
"I mean, we could do it if we really had to." the second angel
said. "But
it took us an hour to make your dad understand why it would be a bad
idea."
"Yeah, not too many worshippers left to be had after a large chunk of
the
cosmos collapses into one massive black hole." Jesus muttered. "Look,
why
don't you boys put the hammers away and find something else to do? If
you
want to impress the boss, you could always help Pat Buchanan get elected
President."
The three angels looked at Jesus incredulously. A moment passed in
silence,
and then Jesus could no longer keep a straight face. The entire group
burst
out laughing.
"You were just fucking with us! Good one!" the first angel said after
he
regained control of himself.
"Yeah, yeah I was." Jesus said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Just take the day off. I'll clear it with my dad."
"Wow, thanks Jesus. We could use a break." the third angel said. "Man,
President Buchanan? I think I'd rather just take my chances with the
black hole." The three angels walked
off down the hall, still laughing.
"By the way!" Jesus called after them. "If anyone says anything to you
about me being seen with a certain magazine, they're lying!"
-----------------------
Sighing his frustration, the heavyset man drummed his fingers and stared
fixedly at the telephone that stood alone in the center of his desk.
Finally, his patience exhausted, Odin picked his battle axe up from its
place on the floor and began to pace his sparsely decorated office. It
had
been an eternity since he had received any calls, and the lack of
attention
was grating on him. Abruptly the telephone rang, and the god's eyes
lit up.
Dashing over to the desk, he dropped his axe back on the floor and
snatched
up the receiver.
"Odin, God of the Norsemen, how may I help you?" he boomed in his most
impressive voice. A few moments passed, and Odin's face darkened. "No
this
isn't Jesus!" he bellowed angrily. Suddenly sensing an opportunity, he
softened his voice and continued. "Why worship a little wimp like Jesus
anyway? Why not worship a manly god like me, Odin?"
The door swung open, and a smallish man with long hair and a beard
poked his
head into the office. "Did I hear my name?" Jesus asked.
"Go away, I'm busy!" Odin replied annoyedly, waving the interloper off
with
his free hand.
Jesus just grinned. "The operator connected you with the wrong prayers
again, didn't she? Someone really should speak with her."
"I said go away!" Odin yelled, still trying to talk the misdirected
worshipper into converting.
"You can just transfer them to the line in my office, thanks. Mary will
pick it up." Jesus said. "By the way, when was the last time anyone
actually called for you?"
Odin slammed the phone down angrily. "I have my followers!" he said
defensively.
"Sure, a few." Jesus replied. "But how many of them live outside of
mental
institutions?"
"Beat it!" the Norse god screamed, grabbing his axe and flinging it in
the
general direction of the Messiah's head.
Jesus ducked back into the hallway as the weapon flew past him and
buried
itself in the opposite wall. Greatly amused, the Son of God chuckled to
himself as he continued down the hallway. He briefly contemplated going
back to his own office and letting his mother take a break from the
phones,
but discarded the idea and began looking for another less-than-busy
deity to
tease. Stopping at one of the seemingly endless doors, Jesus looked up
at
the nameplate. Grinning, he stuck his head into the office of Apollo.
The Greek god paid no attention to the intrusion, being entirely
engrossed
in a copy of Playboy. "You're not stroking your beef at the office are
you?" Jesus asked.
"If I were, I wouldn't stop for you." Apollo answered disdainfully,
never
looking up from his magazine.
"Well it's not like hordes of demanding worshippers are about to cut in
on
you, is it?" Jesus shot back.
"No it's not, and let me tell you, I'm ever so jealous of your
popularity."
Apollo said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Abruptly, he switched to
a
friendlier tone. "So Jesus, let me ask you a question."
Caught off guard, the Messiah just nodded.
"Okay." Apollo began. "Mary is your mother right?"
"Well, yeah." Jesus answered.
"And God, the Father, made her pregnant correct?" the Greek continued,
still
poring over his pictures of naked women.
"Yes, it's all written down." Jesus replied, not sure where this line of
questioning was going.
"And the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are all one entity right?"
Apollo asked.
"That's the going doctrine..." Jesus answered uncertainly.
"So in a way, you knocked up your own mother then!" Apollo concluded, a
smirk spreading across his face as he turned to the next page of his
magazine.
Jesus turned bright red. "Yeah, well..." he spluttered, looking for a
comeback. "Remember that episode of Star Trek, where the Enterprise
crew
kicked your ass?!"
"Yes, I remember the episode." Apollo answered tiredly. "It was
called 'Who
Mourns for Adonis?' and at least the guy playing me put up a bit of a
fight.
You, on the other hand, walked to the slaughter like a bloody sheep."
Before Jesus could reply, he continued. "Furthermore, it took a whole
starship to finish me off in that episode. You though, you were nailed
to a
stick by a couple of Roman soldiers."
"Listen here!" Jesus spoke up indignantly. "I died for the sins of the
world!"
"Oh spare me the bleating." Apollo said, finally closing the magazine.
He
decided to change the subject. "Did you hear? The latest ratings are
in
from the Vatican?"
"Really?" Jesus asked, his anger of a moment ago pushed aside.
"Yeah." Apollo answered. "You would have gotten them already if you
ever
stayed in your office."
"So what were they like?" Jesus asked anxiously.
Apollo picked up the Playboy and tossed it to Jesus, who caught it
instinctively. "You may as well sign up for a subscription now." he
said.
"You're going to have a lot of time on your hands in the future."
His patience exhausted, Jesus stormed out of the office and stomped off
down
the hall and into the cafeteria. As the various deities and demigods
stared
up from their lunch at him, he suddenly realized that he was still
holding
the Playboy. "Interesting articles, huh?" something with two heads
said.
"I... uh... just confiscated this from some sinners!" Jesus answered.
He
threw the magazine on the floor and halfheartedly stamped on it a few
times.
"Bad, bad pornography!"
Nobody seemed to be buying it. Mortified, Jesus bolted from the
cafeteria
and ducked through the first door he could find. He turned around and
found
himself looking at something resembling an elephant holding telephone
receivers in all eight of its hands. It looked at him quizzically,
curious
at the sudden interruption. The Messiah yelped and ran back out of the
room.
"Damned Hindus..." he muttered. This was turning out to be quite a bad
day.
Having had all he could stand of disrespectful pagans for one day, Jesus
decided to head upstairs and finally check on Mary. On his way to the
elevator, he bumped into three angels on their way out. Each carried a
large sledgehammer over his shoulder. "Hey guys, what are you up to?"
Jesus
asked.
"Oh, it's your dad again." the first angel said annoyedly. "We're
supposed
to break into the Smithsonian tonight and smash all the fossils."
"He keeps trying to pawn that 'young earth' routine off on the mortals,
and
then wonders why our numbers are down." Jesus said, irritation creeping
into
his voice. "Even the Catholics aren't buying that crap anymore."
"No wait, that's not the worst part!" the second angel interjected. He
tapped the third angel on the arm. "Tell him what he wanted us to do
first!"
"Okay." the third angel said, leaning his sledgehammer against the wall.
"This schmuck, I mean our Holy Father, wanted us to shove every stellar
object visible from Earth into a sphere 12,000 lightyears in diameter!"
"What?!" Jesus exclaimed. "Why would he want you to do that?!"
"Well see, it's the Baptists." the first angel explained. "They're
tired of
trying to explain how stars millions of lightyears away can be visible
in a
universe supposedly only 6,000 years old."
"I mean, we could do it if we really had to." the second angel
said. "But
it took us an hour to make your dad understand why it would be a bad
idea."
"Yeah, not too many worshippers left to be had after a large chunk of
the
cosmos collapses into one massive black hole." Jesus muttered. "Look,
why
don't you boys put the hammers away and find something else to do? If
you
want to impress the boss, you could always help Pat Buchanan get elected
President."
The three angels looked at Jesus incredulously. A moment passed in
silence,
and then Jesus could no longer keep a straight face. The entire group
burst
out laughing.
"You were just fucking with us! Good one!" the first angel said after
he
regained control of himself.
"Yeah, yeah I was." Jesus said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Just take the day off. I'll clear it with my dad."
"Wow, thanks Jesus. We could use a break." the third angel said. "Man,
President Buchanan? I think I'd rather just take my chances with the
black hole." The three angels walked
off down the hall, still laughing.
"By the way!" Jesus called after them. "If anyone says anything to you
about me being seen with a certain magazine, they're lying!"
