Mitch Goodman is lying in bed asleep, the room is dark. The sheets are hanging halfway off the bed, and he is snoring loudly. His alarm clock buzzes loudly, he aimlessly slaps at the nightstand. "Shit," Mitch mumbles, as he knocks the alarm on the floor. The noise is distorted, but still remains. "Motherfuckinshitass," He growls as he nearly falls out of bed whacking the top of the alarm finally silencing it. He looks at the time, 8:30. He sighs loudly, lying back down. His eyes slowly close. His eyes open, sunlight streaming in through the window on his face. He squints. "Sonofacock," He growls some more, quickly hopping out of bed. The alarm clock is still on the floor; he grabs it and looks at it. "Ten thirty!" Mitch shouts angrily. "Fuck," He sighs, stumbling naked toward the bathroom. "Ten minutes for shower, five to shave, fifteen to drive, umm eight for the..." Mitch quickly thinks, trying to figure what he has time for. He has three days worth of beard and mustache. "No time," He thinks. Mitch flips on the shower, and turns back around to start brushing his teeth. Teeth cleaned he turns back around and steps into the shower. "Fuck!" He yells, falling backwards into the tub, halfway catching himself on the shower curtain which rips most of the way off the bar. Searing cold water bombards his face and chest, running down the rest of his body, shocking his system. He lays there, eyes wide open, he has large rage-filled breaths. "What the fuck! Are you just fucking fucking with me!" Mitch screams at his ceiling. He sits in the running water for a moment longer. The curtain bar falls from the wall, smacking him on the top of the head with a metallic thud. Mitch dazedly stares at the falling water coming from the shower head. He is visibly woozy. Watered-down blood starts to run down his face. His eyes close and his head rests back against the wall.
White. Not a room, just a white...space. Mitch is standing naked in a white area. He is confused. "Umm...Where am I?" He asks. He looks down at his feet. He is standing on some surface, but he can't see anything. It's all just white, in all directions. "It's like the Matrix," Mitch mutters. "Okay...let's see. I was at a Eric's...I drove home...I watched Sportscenter. I woke up late!...then I ...fell in the shower," He thought, this time out loud. "Am I dead?"
"No," A booming voice announced. A large man appeared in front of Mitch. He had a long white beard and a big belly. He had on a Hawaiian shirt and sandals.
Mitch looked at the man in an odd way. "Santa Claus?'
"No Mitch. I am god."
"Why do you look like Santa Claus?"
"I can look like anything, I am omnipotent, I can do anything."
Mitch looked around, "Omnipotent...right." Mitch was looking around for something. There was an awkward pause. Mitch looked downward and realized he was naked. "Then why am I naked, you could have at least put some clothes on me?" Mitch asked.
"I can see through clothes, so what difference does it make?"
"Well you're looking at my cock, that's the difference." God wasn't really talkative. "So...I'm NOT dead?"
"No you're not dead," God said.
Pause.
"Okay...So what am I?"
"Alive."
"No...what the hell am I doing here?...I mean...What am I doing here?"
"What aren't you doing here?" God asked.
Mitch looked very puzzled.
"I'm just fucking with you," God said, smiling and laughing now.
"Okay...so that whole shower and all that, you were just fucking with me?"
"No...actually that was just you, but when you asked if I was 'fucking fucking with you' I couldn't resist but to fuck with you," God explained. "Walk with me," God said. Mitch walked next to Hawaiian Santa God. "You see Mitchell, I am quite a lonely fellow. I don't have friends or drinking buddies or anything like that. So I have to create my own entertainment, which is why I made the universe to begin with."
"The meaning of life is to entertain you?"
"More or less," God said. "I do put some meaningful things in there though, but I was bored. Most of the time I just watch movies and television or listen to music or watch people doing strange and new things. It's amazing what humans have created. Godfather Part I...magnificent."
"Why can't you just make your own entertainment?"
"Ask a director what he thinks of his own movie. He'll tell you he...or she...can't enjoy it. They watch it and all they see is the work that went into it and think of the decisions and cuts and additions and on and on. Same with me. But you people create things that I don't have anything to do with...so I can enjoy that."
"Well...I guess I should ask. Is there a heaven and a hell?" Mitch asked.
"No," God said quietly.
"So I can do anything. No hell?" Mitch wasn't a believer in hell, but confirmation is always a good thing.
"Well, kind of. Some people create negative energy. Some create positive. When you die, the energy is recycled back into the system. If someone is really evil, then their energy is cut out of the loop."
"So there is reincarnation?"
"Sort of. But it doesn't work the way you think. But people still make choices...good and bad, so the energy is always changing, evolving. That is what makes the life worth living, otherwise it would be stagnant."
"Well what if it was all good, and there was no conflict?"
"Then I would get bored and blow you all away and start over," God said evenly.
"Okay...compromise is good. So what...what am I doing here?"
"I was bored. I need some entertainment," God said in the same even tone.
"So dance monkey? Is that the deal?" Mitch asked.
"Sort of. I have a deal for you. How would you like to relive the same day over and over?"
"What like in Groundhog Day?"
"Damnit...I can't ever get away with that can I? Yes like Groundhog Day," God said annoyed. "I told you I need people to entertain me."
"So...God. Can I call you God?"
"Call me Morpheus," God said. Mitch looked around the white void and nodded. "Okay, caught me again. I love that movie though. Call me...Maximus"
"So Russell, is it fair to say that you aren't a creative person?'
"Well, I'm not a person, but the creative part you're right."
"Seems Ironic," Mitch said.
"It's my curse," God muttered.
"So basic Groundhog Day scenario? I learn some lesson from it and when that happens tomorrow happens?"
"No, I didn't really like the exact set up. Here's how it works. You will wake up just as you did this morning."
"Oh great," Mitch mumbled.
"Oh don't worry about that, you'll wake up in bed. The day will go on just as it would have. You can do, whatever you want. There are no consequences. Remember what I said about energy and people making decisions and all that? It doesn't apply. It keeps going until you decide to start over. You can 'Save' your 'game' at any point."
"You like video games too?"
"Big surprise right? So you can save anywhere and go back if you want. Whenever you want you can reset to the morning of today. If you want you can go on for forty years without resetting."
"So I can do this as long as I want?"
"Yes. Whenever you want this all to stop, you tell me, and it stops, life goes back to normal. Play as long as you like."
"This sounds too good to be true. I can do anything?" Mitch asked incredulously. "No consequences?" God shook his head. "So...what's the catch? There has to be a catch."
"One catch."
"I knew it. Sell my soul right? Its always the soul."
"No you're confused, that's Satan...which is me...but anyway. The catch is that I have to be entertained. So if you are boring...I pull the plug, you go back to normal."
"You don't implode the universe? Just back to normal?"
"Yep," God said.
"Good, cause for a second I thought the weight of the universe was on me being entertaining...Why me?"
"Cause you asked to be fucked with," God said matter-of-factly.
"Fair enough," Mitch said. "So when do I start?"
Mitch is lying in bed asleep, the room is dark. The sheets are hanging halfway off the bed, and he is snoring loudly. His alarm clock buzzes loudly, he aimlessly slaps at the nightstand. "Shit," Mitch mumbles, as he knocks the alarm on the floor. The noise is distorted, but still remains. "Motherfuckinshitass," He growls as he nearly falls out of bed whacking the top of the alarm finally silencing it. He looks at the time, 8:30. He sighs loudly, lying back down. His eyes slowly close, then instantly open wide and he jumps up. "Entertaining...entertaining," He mumbles. "Wait...how do I know that wasn't a dream or a hallucination," Mitch asked the ceiling. I EXPECTED THIS. "God?" Mitch asked, hearing a booming voice that seemed all around him. Suddenly Mitch shoots upward, the ceiling and roof break away just around him. He is now floating a thousand feet in the air...naked. He awkwardly looks around. A few seconds later he is shot at high speed back down, screaming. He lands back where he started, everything falling back into place. "Okay...it's real," Mitch said. YES IT IS. "So umm, can I just talk to you whenever, will people hear you?" ONLY YOU CAN HEAR ME, IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME, JUST SAY START. "Start? Why not pause?" IS THERE A PAUSE BUTTON ON THE PLAYSTATION 2 CONTROLLER? "No..."
"Okay...entertaining." Mitch said again. ONE MORE THING. YOU GET THREE WISHES PER GAME. "Anything?" ANYTHING, EVERY RESET RESETS THE WISHES TOO. "Sweet fucking ass," Mitch said. "Do you mind if I curse?" NOT A FUCKING BIT. "Just to check...The catch...like how long will it take for you to get bored? Like can I seriously fuck this up in like a day or two." NO I AM PATIENT. "Okay..." Mitch said, smiling. "First Wish: Invisibility that I control at will." DONE. Mitch is standing naked in his bedroom. He suddenly turns invisible, unable to even see himself. "Second Wish: I can walk through walls and doors and floors and ceilings at will, but I can be perfectly solid and normal at will also." DONE. Mitch stood, naked, invisible, his fingers invisibly running through his bedroom wall. "I can float, fly, whatever you call it, as fast as I want," Mitch said. THIRD WISH? "Third Wish." DONE. Mitch smiled, invisibly, then he leaned forward, and flew like superman, through the wall of his apartment and outside at an incredible rate.
He flew at high speed over traffic and houses, skimming over trees. He realized that he could go through things, so he went lower, still going fast, flying through houses, through walls, people, anything. He comes up on the Freeway, flying beside cars. He flies up next to a blue Toyota, which is driven by an attractive young woman. Mitch looks in on the woman, then he becomes visible, floating beside her naked at seventy miles per hour. She glances out the window and is shocked to see him. He disappears. She looks around quickly; no naked floating man. Suddenly Mitch is sitting in the passenger seat...naked. "So, what's your name?" Mitch asked. The woman screamed. Mitch came up on a city bus. He popped in. The people were all reading papers, listening to music, staring out the windows and so on. Mitch stood in the middle of the bus, and made himself visible. No one paid any attention. "Hey everybody!" He said loudly. A few glances at his naked body, then they looked away. Mitch started floating again, still in the bus, still visible. "How about some pelvic thrusts!" He said, humping the air and floating. Now he had their attention. "I'm here all week!" And he vanished, moving through the ceiling of the bus. Mitch surfed the bus, drivers all around seeing his naked bus surfing. Then he vanished and flew off at high speed. He arrived at his destination: Work.
He touched down, starting to walk now. Mitchell worked downtown at an insurance company office. His job is to go over contracts, lawsuits, claims, anything that is written, and analyze the language, checking for possible problems, loopholes, and so on. Sound fun? That's what an English degree nets you. He realized he didn't have any clothes. Mitch walked through the door into his boss's office, literally through the door. "Hey Henry," Mitch said, naked in front of his boss.
"Goodman? What the fuck are you doing?" Sam the boss asked, standing up from his chair.
"Nothing," Mitch said.
"How the fuck did you get in here like that?"
