"Some gentlemen to see you."
    "Yes?"  God looked up from his morning paper.
    "These men are seeking admittance, Lord."
    "Thank you, Peter.  I'll see them now."
    Nineteen young men walked in and prostrated themselves before the Deity.
    "Aw, come on, get up," said God.  "We don't stand on formality around here.  Just explain your business."
    "We have just struck a glorious blow for You and the Faith!" said one young man who appeared to be the leader.  "We have exterminated thousands of infidels in the advancement of the Holy War.  We are here to begin living the Infinite Paradise!"
    God nodded his head thoughtfully.  "Hmm.  So, you're the lot that demolished the World Trade Center, part of the Pentagon, and four jetliners, slaughtering thousands of people."
    "Yes, Lord!" they cried enthusiastically.
    "Well, let's just examine that statement of yours a little.  First off, did you know that several hundred of those people you killed were not what you call 'infidels?'"
    "That's ok, Lord!" said the leader.  "They were martyrs to the Cause.  They, too, will live the Infinite Paradise!"
    "Grateful as I am to you for explaining to me how my universe works, allow me to explain something to you.  Over the years, people have put all kinds of words in my mouth.  I'm getting used to it.  But remember what you said back there about 'Holy War?'"
    "Of course, Lord!  The Righteous Army of Islam shall triumph over the infidels!"
    "Uh, you sure have a lot of capital letters in your dialogue," observed God.  "And I'll thank you not to blame your psychoses on religion.  But here's the point:  'Holy War' is an oxymoron."
    "Oxy what?"
    "Moron, you moron!  There is nothing holy about war.  Why anyone thinks that slaughtering innocent people - or any people, for that matter - will please me is a mystery that even I can't fathom.  And you know what really disappoints me?"
    "Uh, disappoints you, Lord?"
    "That you had so little regard for the gift of your own lives, that you could throw them away so callously."
    "But ... but ... the Infinite Paradise...  The Prophet said ..."
    "If you're talking about my friend Muhammad, you may get a chance to hear him explain what he said himself when you've worked your way back up."
    "Worked our way back up?"
    "I think there's an echo in here," said the Deity.  "I'm going to give you lots of time to think over what you did.  You'll start as cockroaches.  If you do well, I may promote you to June bugs."
    "But you are the most merciful, the most compassionate ..." they pleaded.
    "Well, at least I'm not consigning you to the fiery death you chose for your victims.  On the other hand, wait and see what I have in store for your boss.  Slime mold, I think ..."