Tevun-Krus #28 - Theological SF

Smith & Jones Act II Scene V

Jones stared at the television screen. Well it wasn't really a television screen but it was most definitely a screen and at that particular juncture, he supposed that the images it was showing were most likely being transmitted via a digital television network so whilst it was and simultaneously was not a television screen, what it most definitely was, was a television.

"Apparently, the 'Buffy,' your attire mentioned whilst we were within the FanFic portion of the loop as just been sworn in as President," said Smith, glancing at the rolling bar of text that was making its way along the bottom of the eighty-foot screen.

"So it would seem," Jones replied with a shrug as the newly annointed President of the World strode towards a podium in the centre of the picture. "Although I hardly feel her attire is fitting for one of such standing."

"It's not her attire I'm worried about," said Kris, because she was there, too. "I mean, look at those stains..."

Her companions did, indeed, look at those stains, and they saw that they were...

"...blood," Kris finished.

"I hardly think..."

"It might not be..."

"She's the vampire slayer," said Kris. "At least, she was. Now she's President of the World."

"President of the World in a world where vampires exist?"

Smith and Jones both shuddered but in doing so, they simultaneously realised something completely and totally unrelated although before either of them could say anything about the missing pair of H'ver and Boogaloo, there was an interruption.

"I did that, y'know."

"Excuse me?" Kris asked, turning around to face, well, whoever it was who had spoken.

"I did that," the individual replied. He was a scrawny looking fellow with an unruly mop of shaggy brown hair, cracked lips and the most obvious case of red eye that Kris had ever seen. "Made Buffy President, I mean. Used to love that show, so I did."

From his hair he retrieved a half-smoked joint and put the tip between his lips. He did not appear to put any kind of flame to it and yet it seemed to be smoking quite perfectly.

"Yeah, I mean 'course I was mostly in it for the lesbians but y'know, killin' vampires is cool so I thought to myself, why not? I mean, I'm God which basically means I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"Hold your horses, Sir," said Jones, his head inclined. "You just claimed to be the Almighty."

"Aye, that I did," God replied. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me, to be fair. I'll be honest, most people don't."

"I can't even begin to imagine why..." Kris muttered.

"'Course it's prob'ly got something to do with the fact people refuse to see the Creator of All Things as anything but a perfect, infallible being. An' I try to tell 'em, just 'cos I like to puff the good shit don't make me a bad dude."

"Quite..." Smith paused, and sighed, and then paused a little more. "So this 'Buffy,' President of the World... What on Earth possessed you to do such a thing? She is, I gather, a fictional character, a creation directly from the mind of a brilliant man. But surely as a fictional character, the role of President of the World is a little, I don't know, above her?"

"Meh." God shrugged. "You say anal sex I say hakuna matata."

"And what, exactly, does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything, and nothing," said God. "Listen, right. D'you have any idea how astronomically fucking boring it is, being God? I bet you don't... It's lonely, too. I mean, sure, there's a gazillion other Gods, all of them lesser incarnations of me that I allowed to come into existence during a couple of tequila fuelled weeks but I'll be frank, they're all absolute fucking dicks. Even Thor's a twat since he went and got himself an acting job."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Smith, nodding grimly. "I once enjoyed the company of a young lady who subsequently went on to join a travelling show. She was the star, of course, and I don't mind telling you my good man, that fame went straight to her head and the next thing you know she's balls deep in strong men and lion tamers..."

"Right?!" God nodded, smiling, and then took another drag upon the spliff, holding his breath whilst he continued speaking. "Seriously, guys. This dude gets it. He's like... like my fuckin'... like my fuckin' brother or some shit!"

"I think I've worked it out," said Kris. "The appearance of God is a bit of a giveaway of course, but given his current state I suppose not realising before is forgivable, but I do believe we're in the Theological SF portion of the loop."

"Theological SF?" God asked, pouting. "Surely that's a little bit pointless, eh? I mean don't get me wrong, I don't give a fuck whether people believe or not, you're all going to heaven or hell, but unless this eighty foot widescreen has been telling me shit wrong for thousands of years, then religion always has been and always will be part of the life of everyone whether they know it, accept it or not."

"That's a fair point."

"So why dedicate an entire fuckin' sub-genre to something that's prob'ly part and parcel of every single science fiction work anyways... I mean, that'd be like living in a SteamPunk world and dedicating an issue of a reasonably popular ezine to SteamPunk."

God paused, took another hit on the joint and shook his head.

At that point a brilliantly bright white light appeared, which was probably a good thing...