"The End"

THE END
By Curtis C. Chen

God woke up on Saturday morning, went downstairs to check on her animals, then stomped into the kitchen. Satan stood at the counter, fussing with the French press.

"What happened to my terrarium?" God asked.

"I didn't touch your pets," Satan said without turning around.

"They're not pets," God said. "And that ecosystem is very delicately balanced—"

"Okay, eco-sphere, whatever." Satan carefully filled his insulated travel mug. "Your aquarium was blocking the screen. I had to move it so we could watch the game."

"You moved it next to the wine cooler," God said. "Interior temperature dropped by half. Most of the reptiles are dead."

"Are you sure they're not just hibernating?"

"Oh, you're a herpetologist now? And would it kill you to clean up after your little boys' club meetings?"

Satan frowned at God. "Geez, what crawled up your ass and died? Is is that time of the month again?"

"I'm going to forget you said that," God said. She glared at Satan's suit and tie. "You really need to go in today?"

"Yes," he said. "Conference call with Asia. Time zones. Can't be helped. Don't worry, I'll be back before seven."

"What happens at seven?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake." Satan grabbed his briefcase. "Dinner with Lucy and Geoff! Reservations at the Garden? Remember?"

"Yeah." God fidgeted. "Sorry I've been distracted this week."

"It's been more than a week," Satan muttered, and slammed the front door shut.

God ate two granola bars and drank a bottle of water, then returned to her experiment. The mammals which had survived last night's big freeze were quite resilient, and she wanted to see what would happen if she made them more complex.

The phone rang at five-thirty. God put it on speaker, but had trouble understanding what her husband was saying. It sounded like Satan was driving.

"I'll be ready to go soon," God shouted at the phone.

"No," Satan said. "Listen! There's been a change of plan. I didn't want to do this over the phone, but—this marriage is not working."

God was only half-listening. Her attention was focused on extracting bone marrow from a sedated male specimen, which she could use to create a female clone. "I'm sorry I've been busy. I'll take tomorrow off, I promise."

"That's not the point! Dammit, how do I say this?"

"Just hang up," came a female voice through the speaker. "She doesn't care."

God frowned. "Is that Lucy?"

"You had your chance, honey!" Lucy said. "He's mine now!"

"Okay, stop," Satan said. "You're making it worse."

God put down her instruments. "Where's Geoff?"

"Probably still at the office," Satan said. "Look. Baby. I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I need someone who's more attentive, more invested in our relationship."

"You should have sucked his dick more!" Lucy said, giggling.

"Really not helping!" Satan said. "I'm sorry. We're leaving. This is the end."

The line went dead. God turned back to her work.

"No," she said, watching as the male and female shared a piece of fruit. God smiled. "This is just the beginning."



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