When I got to the door that morning, it had a new name on it: Hurtin’.
I reached for the knob, and had to actually open the door myself. The All-Powerful was lying on one of the couches with ice on the left side of his face. It was a little disturbing, but also a little funny.
“Excuse me, Sir, but are you Hurtin’?”
Still with the cheesiness. “I brought you the best hangover breakfast, from my favourite deli: Bacon, egg, and cheese on a toasted bagel; orange juice on the side. Come on. Sit up and eat this. It’ll make you feel better.”
The Lord sat up and removed the ice from his face. Wow: Black eye, bruised cheek, swollen lip. “You look like shit, Jeff.”
He took the breakfast from me. “Thanks, dick.”
Did the Almighty just call me a dick? “Mind if I ask you a question while you eat?”
He was cautiously biting into the sandwich. “G’head.”
“I’m having a little trouble with the fact that I watched The Supreme Being get his ass kicked. How did that happen?”
“He took me by surprise. You could have warned me that he might punch me back.”
“But you’re a god! Couldn’t you just have shoved a lightning bolt in his gonads?”
Jehovah gave me a look of disdain. “It just didn’t occur to me. Like I said, I was taken by surprise when the bastard punched me back – each time!”
Then a tiny smile. “He may wake up with a nasty rash though.”
He is a vengeful god.
“How does that breakfast make you feel.”
“You were right, Paul. The first couple bites were a little nerve-wracking, but each bite after that made me feel better. And the orange juice is wonderful. Does anyone else know about this ‘Hangover Breakfast’?”
“That’s what they actually call it on the menu.”