Alternate Approach

"So how did the audit turn out, Michael?"

"Great, Lord! Ninety-nine percent of all species passed with flying colors."

"Fantastic," said God. "That's very goo ... 99%, you said? Why only 99? What about the other 1%?"

The archangel fidgeted. "That would be the, um, the humans."

God raised an ineffable eyebrow. "Ok," he said, "spill it."

"Disaster!" sobbed Michael. "Utter disaster. They don't get it at all. You give them something nice like that and five minutes later, they're spitting and arguing and fighting. The bigger, stronger ones bully the smaller, weaker ones. The weasely ones make up rules and claim special privileges for themselves."

"Rules?" asked God suspiciously. "What kind of rules?"

'You won't believe this," said Michael. "The number 1 rule is that it's forbidden unless you bless it."

"Oh, that's simple," said God with some relief. "I do bless it."

"No, you don't understand, Lord," said Michael. "When they say you have to bless it, they mean that some guy in a funny suit has to mumble some words."

"What guy in a funny suit?" asked God. "I don't know about any guy in a funny suit."

"It's not just one guy," explained Michael. "They have these things called 'religions' that purport to be the manifestations of your will on earth. There are a bezillion of them, each claiming to be the one and only True Religion (yes, in caps), and each of them has a shipload of guys in funny clothes who claim to be your mouthpiece. Robes are very popular. And silly looking hats. Oh, and get this: if the guy in the clownsuit - which is to say, your Right Hand on Earth - hasn't said the magic words, ... it's evil."

"Ok," sighed God. "I can see that this is not going to be sustainable. I'm just going to have to re-do humans a different way."

"Remember," warned Michael, "you're not only going to have to find another means of reproduction, but also find something to replace the pleasurable aspects."

"What?" laughed God. "Now, you are telling me how to run the creation business?"

*******

Little Rhonda was bouncing up and down excitedly. "Papa! Papa!" cried Rhonda. "The new baby's here! The new baby's here! And it's so cute! Can we call it 'Ethan?' Huh? Huh?"

"Well, that was what we agreed to before," said Papa."But what's wrong with Daddy? Ed, what happened?"

"The UPS guy attacked me," said Ed. "It's ok, Johnny. I already got the arm splinted up, and the black eye will go away in no time."

"But ... why?" asked Johnny.

"Oh, I let slip that we'd ordered Rhonda via Fed Ex," Ed explained.

"But we were is such a hurry, then," protested Johnny. "Didn't you mention that?"

"I did," said Ed, "but it didn't make any difference. Those guys are very jealous."

"Oh, right," replied Johnny. "You should've called me at work. I could've come home. Together, we could've kicked that bum's ass. Or kicked that ass's bum."

"Really," said Ed, waving away the partner's concern. "It's fine."

"I'll tell you what!" said Johnny. "Let's celebrate! How about some ice cream?"

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Rhonda was bouncing again. "Let's go to Creamy's!"

Johnny froze. "Creamy's?" Johnny asked suspiciously. "What do you know about Creamy's?"

"It was just a treat for the kid," said Ed quickly. "You were at work ..."

"It's ok," piped Rhonda helpfully. "Unca Ronnie came, too!"

"You took Ronnie?" Johnny's teeth were clenched. "And you didn't take me?"

"Ronnie just happened to be around," stammered Ed unhappily. "It was all very innocent."

"Daddy had a mikshake," offered Rhonda.

"A milkshake?" screeched Johnny.

"Tutti-frutti!" chirped Rhonda.

"A TUTTI-FRUITI milkshake?" gasped Johnny. "You whore!"

"Johnny, please," sputtered Ed. "Language. The child."

"Oh, no. It was fine," said Rhonda the peacemaker. "It was delicious!"

"AND you let THE CHILD Taste it?" screamed Johnny. "Have you no shame?"

"It ... it ... didn't mean a thing!" squeaked Ed, dredging up the curious phrase from some deeply buried species memory.

"Out!" screamed Johnny. "Out of my house! This instant! And stay away from my children! If you have anything more to say, you can tell it to my lawyer!"

*******

"Well?" asked Michael with eyebrows raised and an ill-concealed smirk.

God shook the holy head. "It must be something hardwired into the human circuitry," he shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me."