Whatever
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The actors: God, Assistant God, Messenger.
[God and Assistant God are casually dressed but both wear a cardboard halo that flaps when they move their heads as it is supported by a single spoke. The Messenger wears a uniform that shows rudiments of golden wings in the area of the shoulder blades.
God is sitting at a massive desk on which piles of correspondence and records are heaped, all in genial disorder. On the left is a computer terminal of the old style, in IBM-blue. Apparently, the current program on the screen is a popular version of Star Wars.]
God (stares excitedly at the terminal screen, as Assistant God stands behind him, looking over his shoulder): “Wow!”
Assistant God (pointing his finger at the screen): “You didn’t catch them this time. They are a bit too fast!”
God (clapping his tights): “Little bastards! How come they are too fast for Me? Something must be getting out of hand.”
Assistant God: “Luminescence, You ordered it yourself. You were saying it was no fun catching them right away. So we had them decontrolled.”
God (with a startled face): “Decontrolled, huh? Is there a way to get them back under control? Who controls them now?”
Assistant God: At the time we did not concern ourselves with this question, Your Luminescence! I can order a search of the Statues if You wish.”
God: “Well, if nobody . . .”
Messenger (enters breathlessly, carries an old-style computer printout, part of which he drags behind, turns to God): “Oh my God!”
Assistant God (sharp): “I beg your pardon!”
Messenger: “Luminescence, we seem to have a trouble area.”
God (visibly disgruntled about the interruption): “What is it?”
Messenger: “How should I put it? The data say someone has been messing around with life in the Galaxy.”
God (impatiently): “There is no life in the Galaxy! Everybody knows that.”
Assistant God: “Your Luminescence, this is almost true, but I may remind You of the planet Earth you made in Your spare time? And remember your recent dispatch about a place called Arkansas?”
Messenger: “I’m afraid Your Luminescence may be right after all. We have spotted the release of an amount of energy so large it may have incinerated this parcel of Your Creation.”
God: “Ah, I had almost forgotten about that one. Well, it wasn’t exactly spiffy, was it?”
Assistant God (laughing, raising his eyebrows and winking with his index finger at God): “I think I know what You mean! No, it wasn’t spiffy!”
God: “So we just wait a little to let it cool down and get is started from scratch, sometime.”
Assistant God: “Not before Thanksgiving, though? We have a lot of business to attend before Thanksgiving.”
God (waves his right hand, turns back to the terminal): “Yeah, whatever. There’s no rush.”
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