Problem Child

He lounged in his purple suede easy chair smoking an ornate pipe in a dark room. A loud noise drew him to the window. Peering through a gap in the drapes he saw a small crowd of people outside of his house looking towards his balcony window. Opening the door he strode magnificently to the balcony railing. The crowd hushed as one representative stepped forth. “God! We’re sick of your son making us feel guilty, and we’re sick of you. We are now officially on strike from life!” God puffed his pipe thoughtfully and adjusted his bathrobe. “Then get the hell off of my property,” he called down and retired to his chamber.

- D. Richard Scannell