God the Father

A table. LENNY and GOD sit facing each other.

LENNY: So…you're god, huh?

GOD: Yep. Sorry.

LENNY: No, no, that's okay, it's just…you know, not exactly what I expected.

GOD: Sure, well, that's kind of my thing, isn't it? Defied expectations, and all that.

LENNY: I guess that makes sense.

GOD: Sure. Like it says in the scriptures, "The Lord taketh many forms."

LENNY: Does it say that?

GOD: It does now.

He snaps his fingers. Lenny isn't amused.

GOD: Sorry, I couldn't resist.

LENNY: Well, nobody's perfect.

GOD: No, that's just the thing - I am.

LENNY: Oh, right, because you're...

GOD: Yeah.

An awkward silence.

GOD: So, look, I'm sorry if this is a little awkward, but the fact of the matter is, I don't like to do this very often.

LENNY: No kidding?

GOD: I never kid.

LENNY: Oh. Sorry.

GOD: I'm just kidding. Look, the reason that I'm here is that, uh…well…oh my me, I'm sorry. I am so bad at this...

LENNY: You're doing fine so far.

GOD: Do you really think so?

LENNY: Sure.

GOD: You're not just saying that because I'm god?

LENNY: Not at all.

GOD: Thank you. That means a lot, really.

LENNY: Don't mention it. So...

GOD: Right, well, all I wanted to say was that I've been a bit concerned about you lately because it seems like you've been having problems with your faith.

LENNY: I'm not having problems with it - I don't have any. I've lost it.

GOD: I'd say that's a pretty big problem.

LENNY: Well, of course you would. If I don't believe in you, than you don't exist.

GOD: That's cute, but I think my being here disproves that, don't you?

LENNY: Not necessarily.

GOD: How do you figure?

LENNY: You're clearly only my idea of God, right?

GOD: Well..,

LENNY: So if I don't believe in god, then my idea of god is nothing - it's a blank.

GOD: But I'm not a blank - I'm sitting right in front of you. That places the burden of belief on you. It shouldn't fall on me to prove my existence to you when I'm sitting here talking to you face-to-face.

LENNY: No, you just don't get it. There's no way for you to convince me that you're real, because I don't believe in you, so no argument you make is going to carry any weight because it won't actually be made. And furthermore, if I don't believe in you, then I cannot truly believe that you're actually sitting right in front of me at this moment, or that you could speak to me at all, let alone convince me otherwise.

GOD: Yeah, but I am sitting right in front of you, speaking to you, so explain me away.

LENNY: I must be hallucinating,

GOD: Come on, this isn't a movie. People don't hallucinate structured theological conversations.

LENNY: Well then maybe this is all just a physical representation of my own internal monologue.

GOD: What?

LENNY: This could just be my brain's way of processing a series of abstract questions and thoughts that I otherwise have no way of conceptualizing.

GOD: Really?

LENNY: Which I guess means that I can't really be here either. I must be a projection of my own image of myself, and my current state o find, while you represent some nagging trace of my former ideology.

He tries to put his right hand through his left arm, hits flesh.

LENNY: Or something like that...

He tries again.

GOD: Look, are you finished?

LENNY: I mean, I have to be close - I'm sitting here in the middle of this void, having a conversation with a god that doesn't exist - it must all be in my head. I hope it's not a tumor...

GOD: Just listen to me for a second - there's something else that you should probably know...

LENNY: I don't think I have anything else to gain from you. Hey, maybe that's the point of all of this - for me to finally be able to let go.

GOD: Lenny, you have to believe in me.

LENNY: Why? Just because you're an entity whose existence is based solely on the beliefs of others in it?

GOD: No, because I'm your father.

LENNY: Right, sure - in a spiritual, "God the Father of mankind" sort of way, I get it - you're emotionally needy.

GOD: No, more of in a "I took human form, had a few too many drinks with your mom, and nine months later you happened" kind of way.

LENNY: What?

GOD: I didn't exactly mean for it to come out like this.

LENNY: What the hell are you talking about?

GOD: Language, son.

LENNY: Oh, I get it - you're kidding again, right?

GOD: I would never kid about something like this. Now look, I'm about to let you in on a little secret that no one, save for a few very select individuals, has ever been privy to. I mean, this would shake the foundations of a whole peoples' beliefs to their very cores, do you understand?

LENNY: Not really...

GOD: Look, I've been around a while. I mean, I was here when there was nothing, if you could imagine how lonely that was. And it went on forever - I don't even know how long, if I'm being honest with you. Why do you thin I made all this to begin with? But even then, I always felt myself at a remove from the people I created. There was always a separation and a burning desire to feel the kind of connections they could feel. Not emotional or spiritual - I get enough of that. I'm talking about more…well, there's only so much that you can do with a heavenly body. Do you understand what I'm saying…?

LENNY: Oh boy...

GOD: For whatever reason, I had instigated the need for sexual procreation without ever getting a chance to taste its benefits for myself. I was always curious - and quite frankly, a little antsy after a while. See, I always knew that it would come eventually - Mary was in my plans all along. But afterwards? Well, I really got a sense for why my children took so much pleasure in biblical company - if you'll pardon the pun. So I figured, why not? What would it really hurt? And occasionally, I would pop back down and get my fix. I never used my powers, I never forced anybody - it was always consensual. I had become human before, why not a few more times? I didn't do it too often, and I was never careless. I never wanted to disrupt the greater plan. Until your mother. I was particularly anxious that time - the last one hadn't gone too well, I was worried that I wasn't going to be able to - well, you don't need to hear all of the details but, long story short, I got a little…sloppy. And, well…ta-dah!

Lenny has been listening in stunned, disgusted silence.

LENNY: Jesus...

GOD: Well, not exactly.

LENNY: I mean…my god...

GOD: Please, call me dad.

LENNY: I guess that would explain the birthday cards with communion wafers tucked inside. I always just figured my father was a very devout deadbeat.

GOD: Well...

LENNY: And the way mom used to talk about how she would be "visited upon by the Lord," and then always complained about sore hips the next day...

GOD: There may have been a few other times...

LENNY: So, what - does this mean that I'm some sort of…second coming?

GOD: Well, not exactly.

LENNY: But I'm your son.

GOD: Right, but you weren't planned, is the thing. You were a fluke, an accident. A wonderful accident, to be sure, and me and your mother are both very proud and have never regretted having you, but all the same, you're not part of the plan.

LENNY: So that's why you're so desperate to have me believe in you.

GOD: It's certainly a factor.

LENNY: Because you're my father...

GOD: Right.

LENNY: And so if I don't believe in you...

GOD: It's a bit of a problem-o, isn't it?

LENNY: Because if you don't exist, how can you produce something that does.

GOD: Bingo. 

LENNY: Unless I don't exist either.

GOD: Well…I mean, I guess…yeah...

There is a long silence as they both thing about the implications of that. After a beat, Lenny and God both cease to exist.

- cs