Scene: The Cosmic BBQ
The scene opens in a vast, serene expanse—perhaps something that would normally feel divine, but today is casually transformed. There's a celestial patio set up, with clouds as cushions and stars twinkling in the distance like fairy lights. The sky has the soft hue of a warm evening, as though it’s just past sunset. The divine aroma of grilled meats wafts through the air, but there’s something oddly human about this setting.
At the centre, standing behind a sizzling grill, is God—a much more down-to-earth version than we’re used to. He’s sporting a “World’s Best Dad” BBQ apron that’s slightly wrinkled from the rigours of cosmic cooking, and it bears a small patch with a "Best Father of All Time" certificate pinned proudly to the front. The apron covers a slight paunch—a reminder of His long history of divine feasts and maybe a few too many universe-shaking decisions.
God is flipping a few divine burgers, probably made from an otherworldly blend of cosmic energy and the occasional mortal soul (though He assures everyone it’s all ethically sourced). The grill sizzles, sending little bursts of light into the sky, which momentarily flicker like stars in a cosmic dance.
God: (squinting slightly, trying to manage a perfectly grilled burger)
“Alright, alright, I know, I know, you guys are still a little miffed about that whole flood thing... and, uh, the whole ‘burning cities to the ground’ ordeal. But hey, we all make mistakes, right? I’m, like, thousands of millennia old. Give me some credit!”
A messenger angel, floating nearby, is carefully inspecting the burgers, giving them a glance of judgment. The angel is holding a clipboard, checking off items like “Sodom and Gomorrah, 90% done,” “Flood survivors, check,” and “Innocents... yeah, well, it’s complicated.”
Messenger Angel: (nodding slowly)
“Divine Father, I have to admit, this is a pretty unexpected twist. BBQ over smiting?”
God: (flipping a burger with a bit too much gusto, sending it spinning into a nearby nebula)
“Well, I figured I should try a different approach. You know, that whole ‘wrath of the almighty’ thing might be getting a bit tired... I mean, come on, if I don’t mix it up, what’s next? More fire and brimstone? Maybe... but, hey, let’s talk about something lighter for once, huh?”
Messenger Angel: (eyeing the celestial grill suspiciously)
“Divine Father, about those babies... the ones you... well, you know...”
God: (pauses, shrugs, looking a bit awkward)
“Okay, okay, I may have gone a bit overboard. But listen, you’ve got to admit, that was a very intense situation. Maybe I shouldn’t have let things get that out of hand. But look at me now! BBQ apron, grilling some intergalactic sausages... it’s a redemption arc, right?”
Messenger Angel: (nodding, trying to be supportive)
"Yes, definitely... a redeeming BBQ arc. Perhaps a small gesture of repentance. But, Father, is there anything you might have learned from this whole... divine intervention spree?"
God: (flipping a cosmic veggie burger that looks suspiciously like a supernova)
“Yeah... maybe I could’ve dialed it back a little. Not everyone deserved that kind of treatment. Maybe it’s time I focus on making things better, rather than just... ending things. It’s like trying to fix the universe with a cosmic hammer. You can't always do that.”
There’s a brief, awkward silence as the cosmic creatures who were almost destroyed in the flood approach—dressed in their finest celestial garb, trying not to bring up past grievances. They can’t help but eye the grill suspiciously, but God offers them a plate, piled high with sizzling burgers.
God: (handing over a burger to a confused angel)
“Here. Try one of these. They’ve got a little ‘grace’ seasoning. You’ll love it.”
As the guests begin to accept the burgers, a starry sky flickers briefly, almost as if the universe itself is having a moment of reflection. There's a slight murmur of approval.
Messenger Angel: (glancing at the grilling action)
“Well, Father, this is an interesting turn of events. Redemption through grilling. I guess it’s one way to go about it.”
God: (grinning proudly, flipping another burger)
“I’m just trying to prove that sometimes, the best way to heal the world... is with a BBQ and a little bit of humility. If I can handle a grill, I think I can handle my mistakes. It’s a start.”
And with that, God continues flipping burgers, his heavenly apron fluttering in the cosmic breeze. There’s a slight shimmer of light around the scene, like the universe itself is letting out a collective sigh of relief—perhaps for a moment, there’s hope for a less destructive future in the hands of the universe’s creator.
