A story about... Overpopulation © 2000 Damon Diehl, Marg Frey, Greg Gbur, Bryce Graves-Hurst	DAMON	BRYCE	GREG & MARG
				MARG & GREG
			MARG	BRYCE & GREG
				GREG & BRYCE

So anyway, the time came when He decided to wrap it all up. He wouldn't neccessarily exterminate all the sentients that He had allowed to prosper, but He decided it would be better, perhaps, to recycle them. Use them in the next world. He had learned something about wastefulness from some of them, after all.

When the final moment of creation finally fell (which amounted to an arbitrary decision, because time to Him meant little) He raised His arms (in a metaphorical sense, of course; there were times when He had arms, and times when He didn't have arms. Omnipotence had its advantages) and surveyed the vast expanse of what existed one last time. Not a bad job, really, but He didn't do bad jobs. He took an instant to look it all over, in its entirety, from the hottest stars in the center of new galaxies to the coldest, deadest densest crap on the outskirts of the universe. And then, with a mighty wave of those metaphorical arms of His, He willed it all away.

Nothing happened.

It had stayed. It had not been affected by his mighty metaphorical wave. He was surprised, and not surprised, for he was omnipotent, and if it had stayed, no doubt he had a reason for letting it stay. But it had togo, so he waved his arms again. Harder.

Nothing continued to happen.

He put his arms down. It was only then that he noticed his pronoun was in lowercase. And so was his possessive adjective. This susprised him, and his surprise surprised him even more. He knew everything, what should be so surprising? And why did his creation defy him this way? Why did he even have to ask the question?

That's when it hit him. He actually did revise the Universe with the first wave of his arms. His perfect mind had remade everything, but in its eagerness to recycle it recreated everything just as it was before. Then, in its perfect wisdom, it had remade himself. He was no longer the Creator, no longer responsible for the great mess around him.

He stood silent, mouth open, in awe of himself.