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The Divine Director Loses It

Short Story

By Steve B HowardPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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The Divine Director Loses It
Photo by Davide Cantelli on Unsplash

He looked again at the text message glaring across the screen and he felt the rage and wrath rising in him. “Yahweh!” the text message screamed. “ I give you a singularity with enough power to create an immense amount of time and space and a 13.5 billion year deadline and this is all you got? Call me back pronto. The producers are screaming for a meeting.”

When he got to the office they were already waiting for him in the conference room: Maggie, the assistant director, immortal name Athena, Anderson, the producer, immortal name Odin, and Larry, his agent, immortal name Mephistopheles (they had all adopted human names after Yaweh had first pitched the idea to them for some reason) all had worried looks on their faces. Shaking his heavy mange of hair and beard twice he gave each one a cold stare before sitting down.

“I think it needs more yellow. Don’t you think it needs more yellow?” Maggie, the assistant producer, piped up as soon as he was in his chair.

“And, Yaw, baby, what’s with all the time spent on that little blue rock in some galactic backwater shit hole? And then it turns out that a bunch of the hairless super monkeys all worship you? I mean, directors are naturally a bit narcissistic, but I think you went a bit overboard here. Am I right?” Anderson, the producer, asked.

“Loved the opening explosion though. But I don’t know, several billion years of hazy opaque energetic clouds before we even get to the first nebula? It just doesn’t grab me. Does it grab any of you? And where’s the dialog? We gotta wait how many billions of years was it again before we even get a grunt? And what’s this pixelated crap? A pear tree? An apple tree? What the fuck is it and why is the chick talking to the snake? Come on, Yaw. This isn’t like you. You’re the king of holographic universe shows, no one is questioning that, but we can’t ride out another bomb again,” his agent, Larry, said.

He left the studio in a ferocious mood. A few lighting bolts had escaped from his fingertips and scarred the table top before he had stormed out of the conference room. As he walked towards the parking lot, he pulled up the entire database on his phone, the script, shots filmed, budget info, the entire quantum conversion matrix, everything and viciously stabbed the delete tab with his right index finger.

Part 2

Yahweh and his lawyer Loki, mortal name Lou, sat at the Seven Loka Tavern and nursed their Beyonder Brews slowly. A stack of court files sat in front of Loki. Names like Athena , Aphrodite, Ishtar, and Kali appeared on document after document.

“Doesn’t look good Yaw. Anyone of these charges could be a career ender. That Mary chick was definitely underage at the time. No doubt about it.”

Yahweh shook his thick head and glowered at his lawyer. They’d only combed through six thousand years of this shit so far. He couldn’t help wondering what was coming down the pike once they got to his notorious “casting couch” era.

“Gotta piss,” Yahweh said as he slid off the bar stool and walked to the toilet.

“Shit, did I really do all that?” he thought. “There was so much Anti-Matter-Coke going around in the 800’s I have no fucking clue what I did. A Golden Calf? Really? And those Greek chicks, shit. All this time I thought Aphrodite was just her stripper name. Me/Jesus!”

As he returned to the bar he watched Loki flipping through more files.

“Hey, buck up Yaw. It ain’t the end of the world. Other deities have bounced back from worse. Remember when Shiva cut Ganesha’s head during that bar fight? Won the Oscar a few eons later didn’t he?”

“I know Lok, I know. It’s just, I had this whole new project in mind, a multi-verse hyper holographic quantum singularity thing with cosmic rainbow unicorns all planned out.”

“Unicorns? Shit Yaw, you tripping again? I thought you made the shrooms for the hairless super monkeys on earth not us immortals?”

“Fuck off Lok. Now I got to put it on hold with the trial coming up. And your bro, judge hard ass Thunder Bolt isn’t your biggest fan.”

“Half brother. Should count for something though.”

“Trickster God as a shyster should count for something too, but look where it’s got my ass.”

Yaw pounded his fist on the bar top. And sparks of blue lightening flowed along the brass railing.

“You need to relax Yaw. You tried Hot Yoga yet?”

“Fuck this pity party,” Yahweh said standing up. “I’ll see ya around Lok.”

“Be at the court house on Monday morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yahweh said with a backhanded wave as he exited the bar.

In the parking lot he found his heavenly white roadster chariot. He started it up and roared out of the parking lot heading towards the trans-dimensional airport.

“Wonder which dimension doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the heavenly realms?” Yaw thought. “Fuck it. Maybe I can go back to doing B grade holographic universe porn flicks like the old days.” he thought as he parked his roadster in the trans-dimensional airport long term parking lot.

Satire
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About the Creator

Steve B Howard

Steve Howard's self-published collection of short stories Satori in the Slip Stream, Something Gaijin This Way Comes, and others were released in 2018. His poetry collection Diet of a Piss Poor Poet was released in 2019.

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