Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction created for enjoyment purposes, and I do not intend to offend anyone with this work. Please enjoy.

An original story by Crazyeight

The First Word

"God and the Devil are the hardest people to interview," I confided to a friend one Friday night at a bar. My friend looked at me with a raised eyebrow, wondering just where the hell that complaint came from.

"Oh?"

I nod in response to his question. "God is the author of creation. He's written books; lots of books, but I haven't been able to get a hold of Him. The devil is no better. I heard he's in everyone, being the source of original sin, but there are just so many facets and shades that I can't tell if he's being straight with me." I frowned. "Can't even tell if that's him either, or just one of his secretaries, like Beelzebub."

"Sounds like quite the dilemma," my friend says, knocking back a drink. He waves to the bartender and indicates with his glass to refill it. He's settling in for the long haul.

"You said it," I continue as bronze and froth fill his glass. "So I figured, forget the devil for now. Focus on the Big Man. He's got all the answers."

"Yet you couldn't get to Him," my friend says, taking a sip.

"Thought I'd get a foot in the door," I shrugged. "Talk to people close to Him. Work my way from the ground up instead of the top down. So I looked up His son."

"And?"

"The guy has been missing since he came back from the dead. How the heck does that work?"

"What about the Apostles?"

"The ones that talk can't keep their stories straight," I scoffed. "And I can't even find Jesus' crucifixion partner."

"Hmmm…" my friend says simply, looking into his glass. "But you went somewhere else, right?"

"Adam and Eve," I nodded. "They didn't say much. Clammed up real fast when I broached the subject."

"No subtlety?" My friend chuckled. He knew me too well.

"Getting tossed out of the house doesn't make people very happy."

"At least He gave them some clothes," my friend supplied.

"He cursed the ground though. Didn't do Eve any favors either, what with the whole childbirth pains." I sighed and shook my head. "Their family is still killing each other. Cain and Able all the time. You'd think they'd be tired of it by now."

My friend bunched his lips together and bobbed his head up and down, tossing the thought in his mind for a moment. "Blood runs deep, I suppose. So where'd you go next?"

"Turned up Adam's ex, Lilith," I continued.

"And?" My friend noticed my conciseness on the matter.

"She told me to go to Hell." I scratched at the side of my nose, furrowing my brow. "Not sure if she was being literal or just telling me to get off her lawn. She smiled though. That's a good thing, right?"

My friend gave me an odd look, as though I were marked for death or something. I preferred to think that was just my imagination.

"Moving on," my friend said, taking a swig from his drink.

"I decided to avoid Hell. Getting there's easy, but getting out is a pain in the ass, and I didn't feel like crisscrossing all seven layers just to get lost each and every time." I leaned back in my chair, hanging my arms on the back. "So I went to go see Michael. I figured that since he's God's second. He's got to have some pull."

"He didn't," my friend said, predicting my next words.

"He didn't," I added. "He just looked at me and said that I'd 'know soon enough'. Is that creepy or what? Whenever the divine say something like that, it's never a good thing."

"Some might say that it's a good thing."

"Always a silver lining to every cloud?" I snorted. "If it's part of a storm that doesn't change the fact that it's still a storm."

My friend held his drinking glass, now half-empty, in front of his face. "I don't mind thunderstorms. I rather like them in fact."

"Not everyone would agree with you. My dog bunches up the bathmat and damn near has a panic attack every time one hits. Crack and boom." I smack a fist into the palm of its brother for emphasis, creating a loud smack. My friend eyes the scene with amusement.

"A real storm would be more impressive."

"Sorry I can't conjure up the appropriate thunderheads." I lean forward and sigh again, leaning my head into one hand despondently. "So that's how it went. A whole day wasted, for nothing." My brow continues to build its own thunderheads. "At least the devil calls, even if it's just a crank call that wastes my minutes."

"Are you going to take him up on his offer to conquer the world?"

I look at him, startled. "How'd you know about that?"

My friend smiles and laughs. "He offers it to everyone. Not that anyone can really afford his prices."

"I don't care about the world," I grumble. "Wouldn't be able to hold onto it anyway."

My friend swirls his drink for a moment before placing it on the counter and pushing it over to me.

"What's this for?" I ask.

"Call it a gift. You need it more than me. You can pay me back though. I know you can afford that at least."

Too true, I think, breaking out my wallet while accepting the drink gratefully. I chug it down, and it burns all the way to the bottom.

...

A/N: Weird? Very. Outside of my normal boundaries? VERY much so, and I can't help but wonder…even worry…if someone is going to take offense to this little drabble. Rest assured that I don't mean any at all. I had a bit of inspiration from a poetry reading at my Internship this evening, so I wrote this up. I wasn't going to publish this on this site, but then I thought I'd give it a shot just to see what happens. Questions? Concerns? Comments? Tips? Feel free to push the review button.