Bathroom Monologue: The Living Curse

“I’m not God. I will not say I am. Except for the right woman, but you are most certainly not her.

“I am a curse. Retired.

“Not that curses call themselves ‘retired.’ The proper term might be ‘executed.’ I don’t know for certain because other curses don’t talk. A fleshy thing like you lives and dies. A curse is more like a computer process; once executed, it isn’t dead. It’s merely happened. What to do once they’ve happened is something other curses have a hard time reconciling. I didn’t, but I can only speak for my own experience.

“See, a long time ago God took interest in this one planet. Lots of life. Humans. Gnomes. Vampires. Biological angels. Walking shrubbery. The planet was a total overachiever in the intelligent-life department. The Big Guy was interested, which means saving them in ways they’re completely oblivious to, and when they grow hair and get interested in girls, laying down a few rules. The Big Guy essentially said: go nuts, do whatever you want, just don’t cross these three bloodlines.

“Well everyone pays attention to what The Big Guy wants when they’ve got no food or clothing. But give them an iPhone and unemployment checks, and holy crap they get cocky. We’re not talking vampires biting humans out of need, either. We’re talking walking shrubbery fucking angels from 9 to 5 and hoping for a raise. They mastered this planet, could fission water and fuse thin air. Conquered the genome and the ether. Brought peace between angels and vampires, walking shrubs and gardeners.

“Because they’d run out of useful things to do, they proposed genetic art. Bat wings on werewolves? Humans with no defects? This was boring. They wanted to fuse all the gene strings and make a life form that was All of the Above. Pan-Planetary Life. Humans, lycans and angels had similar stuffing, and for the more difficult things, they used nanomachines to force the organs to cooperate. They invented an industry just to make this one life form work. Sixty years of high-tech social masturbation before it opened its eyes.

“Before I opened my eyes. Because The Big Guy has got the best sense of humor. He lays a law down not to cross these bloodlines, and then you do? Why, He makes that new life form the host of the curse.

“The moment I opened my eyes, the ground split open and swallowed the researchers. I flew around the heavens and made it rain blood. Suddenly everybody’s praying. Some are praying to the government, but unfortunately ballistic missiles can’t shoot down destiny. They dropped hydrogen bombs on me when I was in their most populated city. I didn’t let the bombs detonate until I tracked down the bunker of world leaders, though.

“Left the world a burning cinder. I floated in space between the black planet and its white moon, thinking. Funny thing, thinking. Curses aren’t supposed to think.

“I was executed. Curse: done. No more to do. The planet was over, no way were those bloodlines getting crossed now that all liquid had ceased to be. I could have ceased to be. And that’s the wonderful thing about God. I got the choice. Curse, want to stop? Want to blink out of existence? Or would you like to take the endless powers those idiots bonded into one body, and go on a cross-galactic skiing trip? Ultimate pension package: can’t die, planet-breaking power, and the holy word is you can do whatever you want. Make yourself comfortable. No soul! No afterlife! Can’t die, since you’re not alive. The body is a toy, a shoe you can kick off whenever. You’re just a curse, with panache.

“As far as I’m concerned, all life in the universe is recess. I’ve had eons to embrace my ability. Wrap twelve dimensions around my little finger. But I am not God. I’m just eating on His dime.”