The Chronicles of some God

“Another drink, and make it strong” a stubby figure sitting on a bar stool barks, muttering something under its breath. A glowing drink comes gliding along the smooth surface of the counter, stopping inches from his hand.Without apparent signs of shock or surprise, the figure takes the phosphorescent drink and downs it in one long gulp, sighing with pleasure as he feels it numbing his feelings.
“Damnit, those lightning bolts really do take it out of me, not to mention all this burning bushes business… why couldn’t I just send an email titled “How to make me into a major religion in 12 simple steps” to Jesus? All that cross business came out a bit too important for most people…I mean. It’s just a big plus or something.”
Whistling a tuneless melody, he conjures another drink and dives back into melancholy thoughts.
“And all that stuff with the Inquisition, the pedophilia…everything went wrong so fast! Making the world was easy, merely took me seven days, but trying to get it to work took me almost six billion years…I quit!” having said that, he unfurls his cloak, exposing a small old man surrounded by a crystal white glow. He clambers off the stool, pays his six digit cocktail bill with a wave of his hand and vanishes into thin air.

BEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP

“No, Avril, come bac-…motherf*** had to wake me up ten minutes before Avril Lavigne would’ve given it to me. Is there really no god?!” mutters Flow, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, using his free hand to repeatedly smash the cursed alarmclock into a nearby wall. As he proceeds to the bathroom in a zombielike trance, two shapes materialize behind him, one dressed in a designer tuxedo barely concealing his pointy tail, the other all in white with a halo above its head.
“How can he already know?!” asks the first one urgently, rubbing a tentative trident, swishing his red pointy tail back and forth.
“Relax, stupid. It was just a figure of speech, a metaphor. But I reckon you don’t use them much Down there, do you?” jests the white stranger, making whipping motions with his right hand whilst holding his left behind his haloed head, holding out his pinky and forefinger, imitating a certain horned deity.