God Talks To Himself

God The Father to God The Son:
                "You look beat!"

Son:        "I've been playing racquetball with The Spirit."

Father:   "I know. I'm both omniscient and omnipresent, either one of
               which would have been sufficient to ..."

Son:       [interrupting] "Yeah, I get it. But Jesus!" [Father casts a 
              disapproving sideways glance]

Son:       "I mean, but Me! That dude's freaking crazy! Tongues of fire darting
               all over the court. Constant stream of unintelligible gibberish.
               Wore me out!"

Father:  "I don't play with him anymore."

Son:       "More like he doesn't play with you. Not such fun when your opponent's
              omnipotent."

Father:  "Whatever. Why don't you take a load off? Can I get you a drink?"

Son:       "Nah, I'll get it. I'm thinking something refreshing, like maybe a
              Chardonnay on the rocks with a twist."

Father:  "Good thing I created grapes."

Son:       "Amen to that!" [both briefly bow their heads, eyes closed]

Son:       "On second thought, maybe I'll go down to the lounge and
               hang out with the Saints. Wonder what they have on tap?"

Father:   [furrowing brow in concentration] "They have ..."

Son:       [interrupting] "That was rhetorical! I want it to be a surprise. " 

Father:   "As you wish."

Son:       "Want to come with?"

Father:  "I'm already there."

Son:       "Ok, then, see you there."

Father:  "I may as well tag along. Don't have a choice anyway."