There was a terrific clap of thunder and a monster appeared out of a
cloudless sky.
Startled, Fred looked up from book he was reading.
"Blimey, who are you?"
"I'm God!"
"Go on, you're not. You don't look anything like God (if you don't mind me
saying)"
"I am, too!"
"You're a bug-eyed monster from outer space, an alien!"
"Why, what do you think God is supposed to look like?"
"He's a stern old man with a beard - everyone knows that!"
"I'm sorry if I don't match your expectations."
"Alright then, if you're God, create something!"
"No, I'm not in the mood."
"There you are, you can't; that proves it."
"No it doesn't. Anyway, how d'yu know I'm not the Devil?"
"But you said you were God!"
"I could have been lying."
"But you don't look anything like the Devil, either!"
"Gee, you do have lot of preconceived ideas."
"Can't help that, it's what I learned at school."
"So, you'd accept someone as God, merely on say-so?"
"I'd need some kind of proof."
"Why should any God, worthy of the name, deign to humour you?"
"But you created us humans - we're centre of your universe!"
"Rubbish, I've more important things to do."
"But what about Eternal Life, and all the Savior stuff?"
"Purely wishful thinking. But I can grant Eternal Death."
"How?"
"By stepping on you - like this!"
There was another clap of thunder, and the Martian, whose name was Madam,
returned home to spouse Meve, and children Main and Mabel, in city of
Meden - to plan invasion of Mirth.
Moral: What Mantras won't accomplish, Morteen might.
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