Sidey’s Weekend Theme is “late”…
It had been a long day. But then, Judgement Day was always going to be. All of mankind having a list of their deeds read to them, then each being allocated to a particular line, was always going to take ages, like being in the “ten items or less” queue in a supermarket.
Most of Earth was in ruins, because War, Chaos, Famine and Pestilence had turned up, as foretold, and that’s a lot of crap for a planet to put up with all in one day.
The Devil had taken his people with him, through the door that read “You don’t have to be crazy to work here, being nasty gets you in as well”. The more fortunate had gone upstairs, where even now they could be heard practicing for the choir. Billions of voices were making a fairly bad first attempt at Hound Dog, and not for the first time God wondered whether it had been a mistake to make St Elvis choirmaster. Oh, well, he thought, they’ve plenty of time to get it right.
He was just starting his way up the stairway to heaven himself when out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. He turned. There was a man standing there.
“Sorry,” said the man. “I’m late.”
“For Judgement Day?” said God. “How could you possibly be late?”
“Oh, I’m always late,” said the man cheerfully. “My mum used to say I’d be late for my own funeral.” He looked at the devastation around him. “Funny, I’d always thought that was just an expression.”
“But where were you?” asked God.
“I was asleep,” said Dave.
“Seriously?” said God. “You slept through the clarion calls of the Angels? The trumpets? The weeping and the gnashing of teeth?”
“Gnashing of teeth is not actually that loud,” said Dave. “I doubt it’s ever woken anyone. As for the rest of it, two words – ear muffs.”
“Isn’t that just one word, hyphenated?” asked God.
“Don’t ask me,” said Dave. “You’re the one who knows everything.”
“Not everything,” said God. “For example, I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with you.”
“Why?” asked Dave.
“Well, all the files have been put away,” said God. “And the computers have been turned off and the doors have been locked.”
“I could stay here,” said Dave. “I could be a ghost.”
“And haunt who, exactly?” asked God.
Dave thought for a moment. “Well, there are still the animals,” he said. “They can’t have been part of all this, it’s a bit difficult trying to decide whether a goldfish has been naughty or nice.”
“You’re mixing me up with – oh, never mind,” said God. “Look, ok, if you want to spend the rest of eternity jumping out in front of zebras and going “boo” then go ahead. Sounds like Hell to me.”
God left, or at least had as good a go at it as any omnipresent being can. Dave sat down alone for a few minutes. They say Mankind is the great survivor, he thought, and they’re not wrong.
He whistled softly, and his wife Julie stepped out from behind a tree.
“It worked!” she said.
“Told you it would,” said Dave. “Now, we’d better get down to begetting. We’ve a human race to rebuild.”