‘I’ll be back at five-thirty to complain about being left out,’
she said to the angels, the lesser ones, watching a game
with real Christians and Tigers. One big cat had a pope in its mouth
while converts with halberds attempted to make the beast lame.
The angels gasped when a rank god with rabies approached from the south
and they raced to be first to mark up their screens with his name.
She, being a goddess herself, wanted live action more
so she shattered their tablets and shot a bolt closing the door.