God

by Jeff Goebel
Released to the public domain.

(The lights fade in to about 1/3 power and we see the end of a bed with two bare feet sticking out of the end.  There is quiet snoring.  Suddenly there is a clap of thunder and the lights zip up to the highest level possible, hopefully lighting over the bed)

Voice:  (Very loud and bellowing over a loudspeaker)  ROGER!  WAKE UP!  It’s 10:30.  This is God!  (Pause.  There is no action from the bed)  ATTENTION!  (Roger’s bed starts to shake.  God is impatient)  ARISE!!!

Roger:  (Startled, he jumps from his bed.  He is wearing pajamas)  What?  What?  (He covers his eyes.  It is too bright)  What the hell!?  Who turned on the spotlight!?!?

God: It’s no spotlight Roger.  It’s me; God.  The Supreme Being; the Lord; Him with a capital “H”.

Roger: Come on… you’re not God.

God: (A clap of thunder)  Believe me Roger, I’m it.

Roger: Oh no you’re not.  You can’t fool me.  I’ve seen God before.  He’s more that just a pile of light.  There’s no way you’re God.

God: Listen Roger.  You haven’t seen God.  You’ve seen movies.  That’s the main reason I’m here now.  I want to prove God isn’t like that.  I’m God.  Not George Burns!

Roger: I don’t understand.  Couldn’t you come down here and discuss this like two human beings over lunch?

God: No!!!  That’s precisely my point.  God doesn’t discuss things over lunch.  What does it take to get to get through to you.  I am the creator of the universe.  A true religious figurehead, not just the guy next door.  I’ve been commercialized against my will.  My image of thousands of years… shot to hell!

Roger: Hey!  Watch your language.

God: Why?  HELL!  HELL!  HELL!  What are you going to do about it.  No sit down and listen to me.

Roger:  (sits on the edge of the bed, still covering his eyes)  OKAY!  OKAY!  Don’t lose your head.

God:  I have no head!!!  I’m God!

Roger: Yeah Yeah, right.  I know..  Let’s hear your story.

God: And don’t patronize me!

Roger: I’m sorry. Go on.

God: Good.  I want you to stop my reputation as a commoner.  People these days refer to me much to casually.  I’m no longer the ultimate being; the creator.  People regard me as some sort of cartoon character.  I certainly don’t need that.  I command respect.  I want things to be like they were; when people went to church every Sunday to pray to me.  Now, the only time my name comes up is in swear words.

Roger: Or when they sneeze.

God:  What?

Roger: You know; Gesundheit.

God: What does that have to do with me?

Roger: It’s “GOD BLESS YOU”  in German.

God: Oh yeah.  Right.  Anyway, you get my point.  I want you to change all that.

Roger: But-  (Clap of thunder)

God: Worried about your job?  Aren’t you forgetting something?  I’m God.  (Money starts to float down from the ceiling around Roger’s bed)

Roger: No, I’m not worried about money… it’s just that-

God: (Thunder.  God is upset)  What’s this?!?!  I just gave you $100,000 dollars tax free and I don’t even get a thank you?  God doesn’t give money away everyday you know!!

Roger: Sorry.  I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I still have one problem with this.  You see, I don’t really believe in God.  At least not you’re type.

God: I’m confused.  I’m floating here; just a mass of light, talking to you.  How can you say you don’t believe in me.  You’re not sleeping you know?

Roger: Well, it’s hard to explain. I never really argued that there wasn’t a God.  I just didn’t take a stand.  I’m not religious at all.  If there is a God, fine. If not, that’s fine too.

God: Okay.  But you can’t very well deny that I exist now can you?

Roger: All I’m trying to say is that I’m not the right candidate.

God: So what am I supposed to do?   Get a priest?  You think I haven’t tried that.  It doesn’t work.  It’s their job to tell people they speak to God.  Nobody takes extra notice when one of them claims that God actually spoke back.

Roger: And what makes you think they would notice me?

God: You’re perfect.  You said yourself you never denied the possibility, but you’re not religious.  They’d listen to you.  Show them the faded carpet.  Prove that God exists and he’s not some old HAS BEEN.  I’m very much a STILL IS.  Tell them I’m the real GOD, just like the book.  Nothing has changed.  Tell everybody to worship me again.  They’ll believe you.  You’re a nobody.

Roger: Gee, thanks.

God:  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean that exactly, but it’s true.  They will notice you.  It’ll hit the papers.

Roger: No God. You’re wrong.  Face it.  You’re ruined.  If I tell a reporter I met God in my bedroom and he was just a mass of light that destroyed my carpet, he won’t publish that.  He’ll politely ask to borrow my phone and call the funny farm.

God: So tell them you don’t own a phone.

Roger: You don’t understand.  The messenger concept has been done.  You need something original.  How about a miracle?

God: AHH!  I knew you were going to say that.  That’s your solution to everything.  Let me tell you something Roger; nobody pays me to be God you know.  My budget was shot to hell creating mountains.  I don’t have the money to produce elaborate          miracles.  Anything I could whip up, could be re-produced in Hollywood for half the price, and they’d probably do it better, with top name stars.

Roger: You’re putting me on.  You just paid me $100,000.  What was that, your rainy month fund?

God: That was a fluke.  I happened to be out hovering around one evening when I caught St. Peter taking a bribe from a sinner.  No Roger, I’m afraid the miracle idea is out.  It’s got to be the messenger.  You’re it my friend.

Roger: And if I refuse?

God: Then you’ll wake up tomorrow as a dwarfed elm tree.

Roger:  What if I leave town?

God: Don’t make me laugh.

Roger: Oh yea, you’re God.  Okay, I’ll do it, but only on one condition.

God: What is it you want?

Roger: Can we discuss the plan over lunch, my eyes can’t take much more of this light?

God: Well…

Roger: My treat.

God:  Can I have anything I want?

Roger:  ANYTHING!

(Instantly on the word anything, the lights fade right down to normal room light.  There is a puff of smoke and in walks an old man with glasses.  The two walk off together talking quietly to each other about the arrangements as the lights fade right out to black)

(BLACKOUT)

NOTE:  Over 20 years after this script was written, a friendly web visitor notified me that “Gesundheit” in fact means “Health”, not “God Bless you” as I had originally believed.  This tragically changes that whole portion of the sketch.  How weird.  How sad.  I suppose God could be rewritten to correct Roger.