Scene: The Dawn of Creation
The void is dark, chaotic, and humming with potential. Elohim stands ready to speak the universe into existence. A divine script is unfurled before Him, but His delivery is… less than precise.
A courtroom appears in the void, complete with a judge, lawyers, and a jury of confused cherubs.
The courtroom dissolves, and a dim, flickering bulb appears instead, casting a pathetic glow.
A large brewery materialises, barrels of ale bubbling merrily as hops fly through the air.
The brewery vanishes, replaced by a thin sheet of paper precariously balanced over a puddle.
Humans pop into existence, holding plates of tofu and kale, looking perplexed.
The vegetarians reluctantly transform into shrubbery, waving leafy arms in protest.
A cascade of glitter falls from the sky, coating everything in a sparkly mess.
A helpful angel timidly steps forward, holding a celestial dictionary.
An army of accordions leaps out of the oceans, wheezing loudly in dissonant harmony.
Elohim takes a deep breath, summoning all His divine composure.
A bewildered human emerges, cushioned by a very plush king-sized bed.
Elohim slumps onto the newly created mattress, surrounded by a flickering bulb, glittery heavens, a puddle with a paper firmament, and a forest of disgruntled shrubbery.
The angel flips a page in the dictionary and hesitantly pats Elohim on the shoulder.
And thus, the world was born—a glorious, chaotic, malaprop-laden masterpiece that would keep future theologians scratching their heads for millennia.
