11/2/98 - 2/7/99
Disclaimers: Marvel thinks they own the X-men. But really God does. And God owns God too. Either way we make no money from this.
Warning: *sigh*. Take a look at the title. If you find it even remotely offensive, you are really not going to enjoy the rest of the story. It is exactly as blasphemous as it sounds. Or more so.
Feedback: Begged for. Send it to BOTH Kaylee1109@aol.com & Poilass@aol.com.
The Adventures of God
* Yea, and a time came when God looked down upon the earth, and saw that it was in dire need of his divine assistance. Lo, was there war and famine and pestilence, until it seemed indeed that the Apocalypse was approaching well before it was scheduled. And God sighed unto himself, and said "I'M REALLY GETTING TIRED OF PICKING UP AFTER THESE HUMANS, I TELL YA." And in fact it had come to pass that God was tired with most things, for he was God and had done pretty much everything already. Even bungee-jumping.
And for some time he occupied himself with learning to knit, but he was God, and thus it didn't take long. But after he had made all of the Angels nice sweaters (in a very clever herringbone pattern) and accepted their devout thanks (for it sometimes got quite chilly, even in heaven), he became listless once again, and no talk of skiing holidays could rouse him from his apathy.
And he looked down upon the earth one last time - and took note, becoming interested once again. For running (and flying, and so on) all over it were strange men and women that he didn't remember creating, wearing some really wierd clothes.
And yea, they seldom wore sweaters.
And thus did God watched these beings for some time, for they occupied themselves with saving the world, an activity which God, having made it, really approved of. And they traveled the cosmos and the dimensions which men and women were not meant to do, and some among the host spake against them most vehemently. But God cautioned them to be less hasty, and said that this was his decision to make, for aren't they all, and you'd better remember that buster, if you expect a nice scarf come Christmas.
And after he had thought on it, and had knitted some more mittens for the cherubim, God finally spaketh his judgement on these matters. And it was:
"I BET _I'D_ LOOK GOOD IN SPANDEX..." *
The Book Of X-Men I:i-viii
PART ONE: GOD Joins The X-Men.
Salem Centre, Westchester: Home of the Uncanny X-men.
One particularly fine morning, there was a great and thunderous knock at the mansion's front door. They got great and thunderous knocks all the time, however, so no-one paid a great deal of attention.
"Ah'll get it!" Called Rogue sunnily, and ran down to pull it open. "Oh my God..." she gasped as she laid eyes upon their visitor.
"YES." God (for indeed it was he) said agreeably. "THAT'S RIGHT."
"Wha - how - who - *_Oh my God_*."
"YES." He said once again, his _VOICE_ shaking the very foundations of the mansion. "YOU'VE GOT IT EXACTLY RIGHT, WELL DONE. I'VE COME TO JOIN THE X-MEN. NOT THAT I DON'T APPRECIATE YOUR SAVING MY WORLD ALL THE TIME, BUT I'VE DECIDED I SHOULD DO A BIT OF MY OWN DIRTY WORK FOR ONCE. ONLY FAIR. DONT YOU THINK?"
Rogue, not thinking quite straight, slammed the door in his face and ran.
"Rogue?" Scott asked, as she dived behind the sofa. "Who's at the door?"
"Rogue, don't waste time swearing, speak to me. Who's at the door? Is it an enemy? Is it -"
"No, you moron!" She stuck her head over the sofa, eyes wild. "It's *God*. You know - GOD. Lord of all creation! Father of Jesus! God. You know? _GOD_." She crossed herself, and then stopped. "What am ah doing?" she said hysterically. "Ah ain't even *catholic*..."
"...Oh." Scott said very gently. "I see. Of-course. That's fine." He backed away from her carefully. >>Jean!<< he called urgently through the psionic rapport he shared with his wife. >>I think you'd better come quickly!<<
>>It's Rogue. She's gone insane. She says God's at the door. <<
>>Yes. Apparently he just... knocked.<< Jean took this in without blinking.
>>Try to keep her calm until I get there.<<
"Ah'm not crazy Cyke!" Rogue hissed at him, reading his expression if not his mind. "_God_ is at the _door_! He says he wants to join the X- men and - oh my G -" Rogue slapped her hand over her mouth, and looked around nervously. "I mean... oh... dear. I slammed the door in his -"
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" God said, coming into the room. (He'd blown the door down. Having watched the X-men for so long, he had come to believe this was their normal method of entering a building, and was trying to fit in.)
"Oh my God!" Scott leapt behind the sofa too.
"YES, THAT'S MY NAME. DON'T WEAR IT OUT."
"THAT WAS JUST A LITTLE DIVINE COMEDY THERE."
"AND THAT WAS A JOKE TOO. NOT BIG ON HUMOUR DOWN HERE, ARE YOU?"
"That's really... uh... you... is it?"
YES. AS I TOLD EMILY THERE -"
"That's mah real name." Rogue said in a very small voice.
"Oh. Really? We all thought it must be Wilma or something..."
"YES, WELL, AS I TOLD HER, I'VE COME TO JOIN THE X-MEN. WHERE DO I SIGN UP?"
"So... we're not dead then?" Scott asked, just for clarification.
"NOT UNLESS YOU REALLY START TO ANNOY ME." God said. "AND FRANKLY, YOU'RE GETTING THERE." Just then Jean came in.
"Oh my God!" she said, fairly predictably.
God rolled his divine eyes. "AH, PHOENIX." He said, not letting his impatience show (he was God, after all. His patience was infinite. More or less.) "NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN. ENJOYING EARTH, ARE YOU?"
Jean just stared at him, swaying slightly. "Um." She managed after a while. "Sorry, what?"
"ME, GOD." He enunciated (fairly unnecessarily, given that he was using the _VOICE_, and they could hear him clearly in Brooklyn.) "LORD OF ALL CREATION, AS EMILY THERE PUT IT. YOU, PHOENIX. CELESTIAL AVATAR, AS YOU ALWAYS INSISTED ON CALLING YOURSELF. A BIT SHOWY, I ALWAYS THOUGHT." No-one dared point out that the title "Lord Of All Creation" might, from certain points of view, also be seen as a tad showy. "I MEAN, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT MEANS, AND I KNOW EVERYTHING." God looked slightly put out. Everyone cringed.
"Uh..." Jean said politely. "I think you're getting me confused with someone else. You see, I'm not Phoenix. I'm Jean. There was this whole - -"
"NO, NO, YOU'RE PHOENIX ALLRIGHT." God insisted. "I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE." Jean opened her mouth, but: "DON'T CONTRADICT ME, THERE'S A GOOD CELESTIAL AVATAR. I'M GOD. I DON'T TAKE WELL TO THAT SORT OF THING."
"Yes... so I've - heard... but - Phoenix - she wasn't me, she just -"
"I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONFUSION. AND IT'S - WELL, I'D SAY IT WAS MY FAULT, BUT I'M PERFECT, SO OBVIOUSLY IT WASN'T. BUT, THERE WAS THIS LITTLE... MIXUP... IN THE AFTERLIFE." Insofar as the Lord Of All Creation is capable of looked embarrassed, he looked embarrassed. "YOU UNDERSTAND."
"Oh. I see." Jean/Phoenix said faintly. For indeed, when God said it, it all seemed to make perfect sense. "So, these recent.. urges I've been having to wear my old Phoenix costume..."
"GO RIGHT AHEAD. MUCH NICER THAN YOUR PRESENT ONE, I'VE ALWAYS THOUGHT. AND I HAVE PERFECT TASTE IN COSTUMES." He considered a moment, before adding, "AND IN EVERYTHING ELSE, OF-COURSE."
"Ah... excuse me... God?" Scott said. " I was wondering... could we discuss your... reason for being?" He heard his own words and went pale. er. "*Here*. Your reason for being *HERE*, is what I meant. If that's all right." It occured to Scott that he'd just interrupted God, but he had always believed in treating everyone equally, and anyone who turned up at the door and said they wanted to join the X-men... was... well... allowed to, usually... Scott decided that they really did need to review their membership policy, but that it would have to wait.
"OF-COURSE." Was all God said, before taking a seat on the couch. Some men might have been made uncomfortable by the presence of God sitting on their living room couch. Scott Summers, it must be said, was definitely one of them. But he hid it well.
"So", he repeated, just for clarification, as he paced with forcibly measured strides across the living room, "you want to join the X-Men."
"Um. Now I know you sort of explained this, but...well...*why*? I mean, you're *God.* Can't you just fix everything from Heaven, or something?"
God glanced down, admiring his brand new spandex costume. "THEN WHO WOULD GET TO SEE MY UNIFORM, HMM??"
Just then a voice broke in as someone came down the stairs. "Would someone mind telling me who's making so much damn *noise*?? Hell, forget that part...just SHUT UP! There's a sick person in the house!"
God turned to look at the new arrival, perplexed. "I'M _GOD_," he said, as if that explained everything and made it all okay.
Cecelia stopped in the doorway, eyes going impossibly wide. "Dios," she breathed.
"YEAH, THAT TOO." God sat back, looking again at Scott. "NOW AS I WAS SAYING--"
"Now hold on just one minute here!" Cecelia interrupted, swallowing down the lump of fear and awe in her throat. "Just because you're God doesn't mean you have the right to interfere with a sick person's much needed rest!" Jean, Scott and Rogue (still behind the sofa) just looked at her, thinking, `and we'd just started to get to know her too. Oh well.'
God turned very, very slowly, shocked beyond reason. God hadn't been chastised in, oh, millennia. "YOU _DARE_ TO SPEAK THUS TO _ME_? I'M _GOD_. I'M ALL POWERFUL. I'M _OMNIPOTENT_."
Cecelia was not impressed. Well, actually she *was* impressed, what with it being God and everything, but she was in full `Annoyed Doctor Reyes' mode, and she couldn't seem to turn it off. "Then you can use that omnipotence to know that someone in this house *needs* his *sleep.*"
Just then Logan walked through, chewing on an unlit cigar. He slanted a disapproving look at Cecelia as he passed her. "No need to kick a man while he's down, darlin'." He stopped briefly in front of God with a nod. "Don't worry, bub. Happens to the best of us." Nodded once more at Scott, then walked on out of the room.
God, Scott, and Cecelia stared silently after the departing Canadian.
Phoenix the celestial avatar joined Rogue behind the sofa.
*And yea, God _DID_ look really good in spandex, better even than Olivia Newton-John.*
The Book Of X-Men I:xx
PART TWO: God And an Atheist.
God enjoyed the tour of the mansion immensely. He'd always liked being the centre of attention (that's why he'd created, y'know, the universe and everything - so it could revolve around him), but somehow being worshipped from a distance wasn't quite as much fun as having a flock of anxious and awe-struck mutants trailing behind him everywhere he went.
Sam in particular, followed God around like a faithful little puppy.
"Ah'm your biggest fan! Ah've got _all_ your books!"
There were, of-course, improvements to be made, and so God snapped his fingers and made them. The Danger Room became a lot more dangerous. The wallpaper in the living room became a great deal more attractive (or so thought everyone but Jean, who'd chosen it). There were suddenly a lot more bathrooms, and the leftover gumbo in the fridge, which Hank had insisted not be moved on the grounds that it might eventually develop intelligence, was transported to the other side of he galaxy where it would one day evolve into a star spanning race of diplomats who would bring peace to the entire galaxy.
Other `improvements', such as the sudden addition of sweaters to everyone's wardrobe, were less well received, but no-one said anything.
"And this is the medlab," Rogue said, almost keeping her voice free of nervous tremor and wondering desperately why _she_ was elected tour guide when Storm was _right there_ and could've done it just as well, if not better. "This right here. But ya can't go in there, 'cause the doc says--"
"I'M GOD. I CAN GO WHEREVER I WANT TO."
"Well, y-yeah, o'course ya can, an' no one's gonna tell you different, but--"
"EXCUSE ME." God pushed past Rogue -- not really much of an effort, since she was quick to leap out of his way -- and blasted the door down into the medlab. There was a person on a bed over to the left side, and God, being a curious sort, and having nothing better to do (if you don't count, like, running the universe and everything) went over to investigate.
Pete Wisdom, battling some dreaded unknown illness that served no purpose except to have him bed-bound for this scene, opened his eyes groggily and looked up into... _the face of God_.
"Who the bloody hell're you?" Not the impact God had been going for.
He blinked (yes, God has eyelids), and stared. All things considered, God was used to being recognised fairly quickly. I mean, when it comes right down to it, not many people look like _God_. A few look like Ghandi, and some like Mother Theresa - and one or two are the spittin' image of Winona Ryder - but _no one_ looks like God except for God. And occasionally the Holy Spirit when God is sleeping late, but that's only with signed permission and no company benefits.
Of course, God (being an honest sort) told him the truth. "I'M GOD."
"I'm an atheist." said Pete. "I don't believe in God."
"I'M GOD." said God. "I DON'T BELIEVE IN ATHEISTS."
"Yeah, well -" Pete started.
"Goddess!" Storm exclaimed. "What have you done?!"
"I REALLY DO PREFER JUST TO USE GOD, ACTUALLY." God said. "I MEAN, _YES_, EQUAL RIGHTS, _YES_, WOMEN'S LIB, BUT A DEITY JUST GETS USED A CERTAIN... FORM OF..." He trailed off in the face of Storm's glare. (She'd been a goddess herself once. She know how it was done). God sighed. "NEVER MIND."
"Goddess." Storm said sternly. "If you wish to be an X-man then there are certain standards to be upheld. And it does not befit an X-man to negate the existence of a team-mate just because of ... theological differences. Please bring him back at once."
"Then again Ororo," Kurt offered, "This is God, after all. If He wants to make Pete Wisdom vanish, who are we to -"
"Kidding, I was kidding -- No really, Katzchen, I _was_..."
Some time and several miracles later...
"Fine, whatever, I believe in you." Pete admitted finally. "I still don't bloody _like_ you though."
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND." God said, genuinely bewildered (insofar as one who knows everything can be bewildered). "WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE? I'M PERFECT. NO, HONESTLY, HOW COULD YOU NOT LOVE THIS FACE?" God pushed `this face' into Pete's less perfect one. _The face of God_ glowed like a sun in the confines of medlab. It was a face which would convert any sinner short of the Devil himself. It was a face to launch a thousand angels. It was a face - well, y'know. It was a face. And it belonged to God. Cool, huh?
"Yer breath stinks." Pete said. "And yer nose is too big. Now is there any chance of my gettin' some kip here, or what?"
*And yea, while God tended to the affairs of mortals, the angels and the cherubim and the good souls -- and the bad souls who foundeth their way through the Golden Gates of Heaven with bribes and promises of chocolate -- looked about the sacred realm and wondered...
Where _does_ he hide the holy wine?*
"The Book Of X-Men III: ii-xxi"
PART THREE: God Plays Poker.
The mansion still reverberated with shock and amazement at the arrival of the _Lord of All Creation_. Birds were hushed in their trees, awed beyond the ability to sing. Clouds drifted by, carefully silent lest they incur the wrath of the Great Creator. Remy's motorcycle stopped roaring. Bishop stopped bellowing "I Wanna Be Loved By You" in the shower. Rogue found an old rosary in the garden and took up religion.
Logan invited God to play poker.
"Full house, sevens high," Logan announced with satisfaction, spreading his cards on the table.
God looked at his own hand. "DOES THAT BEAT...THIS?"
"Here, bub, lemme see..." Logan looked seriously at God's hand. Straight flush. Logan's expression didn't change by a hair.
"WELL? DID I WIN?"
With a regretful sigh, Logan shook his head. "Sorry, pal. Better luck next time."
"THIS IS THE TENTH GAME TONIGHT."
"Some people just don't got the gift for it," he explained sympathetically. "You're not doin' too bad, though. 'Nother round?"
God looked doubtfully at the cards. "HOW MUCH DO I OWE YOU SO FAR?"
"About...twenty keggers, if I'm figurin' straight."
"HOW 'BOUT TEN AND A RAIN OF MANNA?"
Logan shrugged and started dealing. "That'll do. Beer?"
"IS IT FATTENING?" Logan looked up from the cards.
"WELL, SPANDEX IS VERY REVEALING YOU KNOW... CAN'T BE TOO CAREFUL..."
Meanwhile, Jean was doing terrible things to the lawn as she got back into celestial avatar mode.
"I AM PHOENIX!" she cried, bursting into flame, so on, and so forth. "I AM FIRE AND LIFE INCARNATE!"
"I am He-man." Bobby muttered under his breath. "I - have - the power...!"
Jean put fiery hands on fiery hips and glared at him.
"Am I going to have to get God out here?" She demanded.
"Oh God - I mean - _no_. Please. _Anything_ but that." Jean was slightly shocked at the violence of his reaction. "He keeps trying to make me wear sweaters." Bobby explained plaintively. "I keep taking them off, and y'know, _losing_ them, but every time I see him, he snaps his fingers and bam! I'm wearing a sweater again. I told him I don't _get_ cold, I told him I get _claustrophobic_ in warm clothes, but he's obsessed, man..." his voice dropped and he looked around as if afraid to be overheard, "and geez, Jeannie... they're so _ugly_. I mean, who knew God had such bad taste in clothes, you know?"
"I think they're very nice." Jean said, a little defensively. "They _do_ look a little funny over our costumes, I admit..." She glanced down at her own apparel. Somehow the daring, skintight, red and green Phoenix costume just didn't look as - well, as _dangerous_, as it used to.
Not when coupled with a pink and purple check patterned sweater.
In fact, she admitted to herself, she now looked rather more like an colour blind aerobic instructor than a superheroine and celestial avatar.
But she'd be damned (quite literally) if she'd say that where God might hear.
"What've ya got?"
"THREE KINGS, TWO QUEENS."
Logan clucked regretfully. "Pair o' twos, bub. Read 'em an' weep."
"YOU WOULDN'T BE _CHEATING,_ WOULD YOU?"
A hairy hand clamped against a barrel chest, eyes wide. "Ya wound me."
"And Friends. It's just not funny anymore."
"And beards. Outlawed, for sure. And flares. And premature baldness."
"It's just something I worry about, okay? Oh yeah, and you've got the whole, mutant-human conflict thing down, right?"
"I was _wondering_ if you'd ever get to that..."
"And George Lucas has to make the three Star Wars sequels after all! Yes!"
"_These_ are your priorities?"
"Get into the spirit Cece, it's not - Oo! Wait, I thought of another one! The Spice Girls must die!"
". . . Okay, that's a good one."
Doctor Reyes scribbled industriously (and illegibly, she's a doctor after all), on her notepad as Bobby bounced up and down beside her. Scott entered the room, glancing nervously over his shoulder. (He'd left the toilet seat up again, and Phoenix the celestial avatar was on the warpath.)
"Oh, sorry, I thought this room was empty..."
"It's okay." Bobby waved him in. "We're just making a few notes for God."
"Yeah." Bobby beamed cheerfully. Cecelia rolled her eyes. "Well, we just thought, y'know, while he was on Earth and everything, he could maybe fix some stuff." Scott took the outheld pages dubiously, and looked them over.
"... End to famime... death to all mimes... no more war... no more gameshow hosts..." Scott put the papers down with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "Um... look, this is all very... _enterprising_ of you, but... how can I put this...?" He paused a moment, summoning tact. "Somehow, I just don't think God will take well to being given a "To Do" list."
Bobby was crestfallen. "But... they're just _suggestions_ Scott..."
"But Scott," He pleaded, "the _Spice Girls_."
Scott looked down at the list again. No more Spice Girls... mmm...
But he wasn't the leader of the X-men for nothing. He straightened his spine. He gathered his strength. He put on his sternest face.
"Well..." he said very firmly, "... I guess it couldn't hurt to ask...."
God stared in bewilderment at the huge pile of IOUs beside Logan on the table. So far the Canadian had the deed on Purgatory (which God didn't really want; it was a pretty boring place), the Golden Arches (a cunning sleight-of-hand on God's part, meaning that Logan now held the rights to every McDonald's sign in the world, rather than actually having rights to the splendiferous Golden Gates), and the seventh ring of Heaven (which God didn't really remember putting there, so figured it couldn't be very important). It was very hard for the Almighty One to understand this. God was normally one of those people who picked things up rapidly. All in all, He was used to being... well... perfect. Without trying. He'd conquered the challenges of Super Mario Brothers without breaking a sweat. He could program a VCR without referring to the instructions. It was beyond comprehension that He would fail so utterly at poker.
"Lay 'em down."
God laid out his cards. "FOUR ACES AND A WILD TWO."
Logan looked at him pityingly. "This just ain't your day, is it?"
"... YOU WIN _AGAIN_?"
Sighing, Logan spread his hand on the table. "Royal mix-up. Two Queens, a King, a Jack, and a four of diamonds."
God shook His head slowly. "I JUST... DON'T UNDERSTAND..."
Logan smiled encouragingly as he collected the rights to God's firstborn. "Maybe this just isn't the game for ya. I can give you a chance to win it all back, though. How 'bout Gin?"
"You'll love it."
Just then, Sam walked in and caught the proceedings. His eyes widened as he looked at the cards and the stack of winnings by Logan's arm. A small, strangled "Eep!" escaped from his chest. God looked up, still frowning.
"WHAT IS IT, SAMUEL?"
Sam smiled tremulously at God. "N-nothin', sir. Ah just... Mr. Logan, sir, can Ah talk to you for a second?"
Logan, busy shuffling cards and lighting a cigar simultaneously, didn't look at him. "What about, Guthrie?"
Trying to keep the smile for God's benefit, Sam tugged ineffectually at Logan's arm. "NOW. Sir."
"All right, all right... hold your damn horses..." Logan stood and nodded at God. "Back in a sec, bub. No stackin' the deck while I'm gone."
Sam dragged Logan into the next room, then rounded on him sharply. It took him a minute to manage to get words out of his mouth. "You... you... YOU are cheatin' GOD!"
Logan chewed his cigar for a moment. "So?"
"But He's... He's... Ah mean... that's..."
The short man shrugged impatiently. "It's a _game,_ kid. I'll give 'im back his stuff at the end."
Logan slapped his shoulder companionably. "You worry too much, Guthrie. Need to learn to relax." Then he turned and walked casually back to the table, sitting down and glancing questioningly at God.
"Ya didn't use that whole 'knowin' everything' thing t' eavesdrop there, didja?"
God shook His head quickly. "YOU ALREADY EXPLAINED THAT DOING SO WOULD BE CONSIDERED CHEATING."
"It's a real pleasure playin' with you, bub."
Sam's heart was pounding, his face was hot, his eyes were wide...
In short, he was a bit upset.
"He's... cheatin'... GOD," he muttered to himself. "That's just so... _wrong._" In the other room, he could hear the good-natured game-talk as the cards were dealt again. Sam's _Sense of Justice_ (tm) suddenly sprang up and slapped him in the face. (It was a rowdy _Sense of Justice_ (tm)).
"All right, Mr. Logan," he said quietly. "Ya wanna mess with God? Well you're gonna hafta go through _me_ first."
Resolute with new decision, Sam strode into the room, pulled out a chair, and seated himself firmly at the table. God said nothing. Logan didn't show apprehension, but Sam noted his sudden blink-blink of surprise.
With a small, grim smile, Sam told them-- "Deal me in."