First, there was nothing.
From the Great Abyss emerged the mother of all creation; clad in hood and cowl, dark as the perpetual night she was from, and known only as Bahtmawn.
Bahtmawn had 3 sons, and then returned to the shadows of nothingness, promising to fight crime, no more, forever.
The first son was God. He was put in charge of everything he saw before him. All he saw was a vast empty universe and his two brothers.
“This existence needs a little spice. I can do better than Bahtmawn,” announced God.
“What’s spice?” asked the second brother, Bad God.
“What’s spice? I’ll show you what the fuck spice is! Go to Hell!” And so, God created a Hell and banished Bad God to live there, forever. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
“Alllll right! Time to play Sims Existence.”
God went over to his third brother, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure of Turtles in Time samurai Leonardo, and placed him in the microwave, which he just invented. Into the microwave God also placed a can of hairspray and a potato.
The entire concoction exploded. The parts that remained on fire became the suns and stars of our universe. The parts that didn’t became the planets and moons. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
God found one planet. It was favored by God above all other planets. He created a pair of beings in his image, and he favored them above all other creatures. He made them mate and made them masters over all the beasts of the planet.
For millennia God watched over and cared for this planet, ensuring peace and prosperity; a true utopia.
“This is gay,” said God. He sent down that virus from 28 Days Later and watched the carnage unfold. When that got boring, he sent an asteroid the size of Texas. Finally, he picked up the whole damn thing and chucked it into a Supergiant. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
“Making a real fucked up planet should be funny,” mused God.
On the planes of an ordinary planet, God created the first man. His name was Jeff Goldblum.
“Jeff, this is your planet.”
“What the fuck was that?! Who’s talking?!” shouted Jeff Goldblum.
“Jeff, I’m God. I like just created you.”
“Yo.”
“Yo, Jeff.”
Silence filled the space between God and Jeff Goldblum.
“So…um. You should take a day or two to look around, you know, get used to life and whatever. And uh, if you need anything, just sort of shout it, I guess. Yeah, I’ll hear it.”
“’kay.”
“…well…okay. See ya, Jeff.”
“See ya, God.”
A day passed.
“God? Hey, God!”
“What is it, Jeff?”
“I’m hungry.”
God created a Wendy’s Baconator Burger and gave it to Jeff Goldblum. “Eat as many as you can; grow fat on them and you shall be happy.” Jeff Goldblum did. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
The next day Jeff Goldblum spoke to God again.
“God, I’m horny. I just finished reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban in the series and I gotta say, I’m really fucking randy right now. Do you think you can, you know, materialize Hermione for me?”
“Whatever.”
A bolt of lightning struck the book and in its place was a 15 year old Harry Potter standing before Jeff Goldblum.
“God, that’s not what I wanted. God? Hey, God?!” But God was no longer listening to Jeff Goldblum. He looked over to Harry Potter.
“Meh,” he shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
What a terrible night for Harry Potter. The forced sex, the beatings, the partially digested Baconator Jeff Goldblum threw up on his back when Jeff Goldblum got motion sick from sodomizing Harry Potter.
The next morning Jeff Goldblum left the cave to go kill something for shits and giggles. Harry eventually rose. He didn’t remember much. He didn’t remember last night – his subconscious blocked his memory. Gone were his memories of Hogwarts, his friends, his life.
Harry Potter stumbled over to the river. He glanced at his own reflection. Across his face was a wide, redish-brownish mark. Was it blood? Excrement? Both? In his daze, Harry Potter tried wiping it off.
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark.”
Jeff Goldblum returned. He was carrying a dead rabbit with a broken neck and a turtle who’s shell was completely caved in.
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark,” Harry Potter was still mumbling.
“What are you saying?” Asked Jeff Goldblum. “Mark Reiss?”
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark.”
“Is that your new name, Mark Reiss? Mark Reiss? Mark Reiss. Ok, Mark Reiss, let’s get going. I have a busy day of killing things and fucking the shit out of you.”
And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
From the Great Abyss emerged the mother of all creation; clad in hood and cowl, dark as the perpetual night she was from, and known only as Bahtmawn.
Bahtmawn had 3 sons, and then returned to the shadows of nothingness, promising to fight crime, no more, forever.
The first son was God. He was put in charge of everything he saw before him. All he saw was a vast empty universe and his two brothers.
“This existence needs a little spice. I can do better than Bahtmawn,” announced God.
“What’s spice?” asked the second brother, Bad God.
“What’s spice? I’ll show you what the fuck spice is! Go to Hell!” And so, God created a Hell and banished Bad God to live there, forever. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
“Alllll right! Time to play Sims Existence.”
God went over to his third brother, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure of Turtles in Time samurai Leonardo, and placed him in the microwave, which he just invented. Into the microwave God also placed a can of hairspray and a potato.
The entire concoction exploded. The parts that remained on fire became the suns and stars of our universe. The parts that didn’t became the planets and moons. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
God found one planet. It was favored by God above all other planets. He created a pair of beings in his image, and he favored them above all other creatures. He made them mate and made them masters over all the beasts of the planet.
For millennia God watched over and cared for this planet, ensuring peace and prosperity; a true utopia.
“This is gay,” said God. He sent down that virus from 28 Days Later and watched the carnage unfold. When that got boring, he sent an asteroid the size of Texas. Finally, he picked up the whole damn thing and chucked it into a Supergiant. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
“Making a real fucked up planet should be funny,” mused God.
On the planes of an ordinary planet, God created the first man. His name was Jeff Goldblum.
“Jeff, this is your planet.”
“What the fuck was that?! Who’s talking?!” shouted Jeff Goldblum.
“Jeff, I’m God. I like just created you.”
“Yo.”
“Yo, Jeff.”
Silence filled the space between God and Jeff Goldblum.
“So…um. You should take a day or two to look around, you know, get used to life and whatever. And uh, if you need anything, just sort of shout it, I guess. Yeah, I’ll hear it.”
“’kay.”
“…well…okay. See ya, Jeff.”
“See ya, God.”
A day passed.
“God? Hey, God!”
“What is it, Jeff?”
“I’m hungry.”
God created a Wendy’s Baconator Burger and gave it to Jeff Goldblum. “Eat as many as you can; grow fat on them and you shall be happy.” Jeff Goldblum did. And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
The next day Jeff Goldblum spoke to God again.
“God, I’m horny. I just finished reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban in the series and I gotta say, I’m really fucking randy right now. Do you think you can, you know, materialize Hermione for me?”
“Whatever.”
A bolt of lightning struck the book and in its place was a 15 year old Harry Potter standing before Jeff Goldblum.
“God, that’s not what I wanted. God? Hey, God?!” But God was no longer listening to Jeff Goldblum. He looked over to Harry Potter.
“Meh,” he shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
What a terrible night for Harry Potter. The forced sex, the beatings, the partially digested Baconator Jeff Goldblum threw up on his back when Jeff Goldblum got motion sick from sodomizing Harry Potter.
The next morning Jeff Goldblum left the cave to go kill something for shits and giggles. Harry eventually rose. He didn’t remember much. He didn’t remember last night – his subconscious blocked his memory. Gone were his memories of Hogwarts, his friends, his life.
Harry Potter stumbled over to the river. He glanced at his own reflection. Across his face was a wide, redish-brownish mark. Was it blood? Excrement? Both? In his daze, Harry Potter tried wiping it off.
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark.”
Jeff Goldblum returned. He was carrying a dead rabbit with a broken neck and a turtle who’s shell was completely caved in.
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark,” Harry Potter was still mumbling.
“What are you saying?” Asked Jeff Goldblum. “Mark Reiss?”
“Erase…mark. Erase…mark.”
“Is that your new name, Mark Reiss? Mark Reiss? Mark Reiss. Ok, Mark Reiss, let’s get going. I have a busy day of killing things and fucking the shit out of you.”
And yay, t’was a good day, thus spoketh God.
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