The prompt: read “God Went to Beauty School” (below), then begin your writing with the words “God went to ____.” (Or ____ went to ____.)
This prompt generated some great pieces, most less irreverent than my own.
God went to the movies. He’d heard that Titanic was good. All the angels said so, and for once, even the archangels were in agreement. God likes to keep up with what his peeps are into, although it must be said that these days, what with the interntets and all, obsessions change so rapidly it makes even his head spin.
Oh, and by the way, he doesn’t capitalize any of the pronouns used to refer to…well, him. He doesn’t know how that got started, but it wasn’t his idea. He doesn’t really have a problem with it, and he does agree that capitalizing any of his many aliases is probably a good thing, he just thinks that maybe his creations are sucking up with that big ol’ capital H.
Anyway, he thought he’d pop down to Des Moines and take in the 7 o’clock showing. He’d have preferred a matinee. He gets up before daylight, you know, and pulling the sun up over the horizon is harder than it looks, what with the law of inertia and all that. It’s like trying to roust a fifteen-year-old on Monday mornings. That big ol’ ball of gas just wants to sleep for five more minutes, so they struck a deal: in the spring and summer, Sol gets up a minute earlier every day–without argument–in return for getting up a minute later every fall and winter day. It works out pretty well for them. Mornings are much more tolerable now, althought as I say, it is pretty hard to get the sun to rise and shine, even for God.
So, God would have liked to watch the movie, eat some popcorn, maybe suck down a Coke slurpee, and be home before dark, but thought he might be less noticeable in the evening crowd. Des Moines is not very diverse–though he knows they’ve tried–so he figured that one more old white guy would blend right in. And he did.
In the crush of romantics yearning for admission, he was just one more patron without a ticket. (He did feel a bit out of place, though, the only unescorted male in the line that snaked from the Eden Mall Multi-plex entrance all the way to Applebee’s.) He considered pulling rank, but remembered just in time that when he had revealed himself to John Denver, he found himself locked into a three-picture deal with Warner Bros, and swore he’d never do that again.
The fact that he was the one and only deity in his party worked in his favor. The foursomes and couples ahead of him were unwilling to separated, and God got the very last seat. Which, of course, was in the very first row, where no one, even God, ever wants to sit. He scrunched down and stretched his legs out, grumbling a bit over not having a seat to put his feet up on, but he settled down once the Coming Attractions started.
As for the movie itself, he liked the special effects, and thought “Nearer my God, to Thee,” was a particularly nice touch. He wondered what his next-armrest neighbors (one of whom had apparently not learned much about sharing in kindergarten) would do if they knew how near to God they were, and got a fit of the giggles, which the usher came down to shush.
He was a lanky kid, gawky, with thin arms and bony shoulders. He pointed his flashlight at God. “I’ve got my eye on you,” he said.
“Me, too, Sparrow-boy,” God thought, but didn’t say. The usher retreated up the aisle, narrowing his eyes and raising his eyebrows meaningfully at God as he went.
God had every intention of sitting quietly, but after watching with increasing amazement as various characters got off and then back on the sinking ship, bellowed, “Oh, for the love of–” (remembering, at the last moment, to use the code name he sometimes employed among friends) “Pete! Will you just sink the dang thing, Jim? My Go–er, goodness, the real ship didn’t take this long to sink!”
He arrived home (earlier than expected), feeling smitey and set-up, and thought he should have known something was going on when all the angels and archangels were in agreement.
He entered his gates, muttering, “I bet I know whose idea this was. Me and Lucifer, we’re going to have us a long, long talk. I swear, that boy is just heading for a fall.”