Friday, March 19, 2010

Hands of God

Hey, Hands of God! What you sayin'?


Hey, Neil.


Made anything lately?


Naw.


Well, why not? You're the Hands of God, aren't you?


I know. I guess I'm just feeling kinda, you know, down.


Feelin' blue, huh?


Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if there's any point to all this –


Shut up! You're the Hands of God! You got no right to be a crybaby.


Hold on; that's not true.


You should be makin' shit all the time. Like a hurricane. Or a new animal.


(sigh)


I'll tell you what I'd make if I were the Hands of God.


What?


First, I'd make myself a big motherfucking sandwich: ham and swiss cheese on focaccia.


Well, that sounds positively delicious!


Then I'd give myself two solid-gold hands, so I could sell them each for a cool million.


But, Neil. Wouldn't you miss having hands?


And after that, I'd make me a sex woman. A huge one. And she'd love me forever!


Hmmm.


Fuck it, Hands of God! Why don't you make me all that shit right now?


I can't... really... do that. For you.


Yeah you can! You made the mountains and the sky and all the beasts of the field. You gotta help out your old friend Neil!


It's not as simple as you think!


You know I could just as easily ask the Hands of the Devil.


DO NOT DO THAT.


....


OK, fine. I'll give you one solid gold hand. And a small sex woman.


No sandwich?

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