Would you run? Drop the phone? Ask Him who He really was? Tell him He must have gotten a wrong number? Pretend to be someone else answering? Read what happens when Donald Garvey gets his call from God… and then post your own stories, poems, or notes.
Donald Garvey Gets a Call from God
by Randy Mazie
Donald Garvey gets a call from God.
God says to him:
Listen, I need you to lead the nation in non-violent ways to get the world back on the right track.
Garvey thinks it over and declines.
Why? God asks him.
Garvey says to God:
Look what happened to Gandhi, JFK, and Martin Luther King.
Even John Lennon.
Everyone who preached non-violence has been killed.
Your Son even got killed.
No thank you. I don’t want the job.
God says:
I don’t get it, Garvey.
How can you turn me down?
Garvey shakes his head replying to God:
Listen, something is very wrong with this non-violent approach.
It always ends in violence.
Especially for the guy who preaches non-violence.
I really don’t want that job. Thanks, but no thanks.
You need to come up with another way to reach the world to make it a better place.
But there isn’t another way to change the world other than through preaching goodness, God reveals to Garvey.
How about going back to floods and stuff like that? Garvey retorts.
And then adds, just kidding.
God says:
Remember Garvey, in the beginning was The Word.
It is through words that the world will change.
But why me, God? Garvey snaps back.
Why not you? God retorts.
Silence.
Garvey shrugs and says,
If I do it, I’ll need some sort of guarantee from you.
You can’t make deals with God, says God.
Now God gets a little testy here with Garvey.
He raises his voice and cries to Garvey:
Garvey, who the hell do you think you are?
Gandhi? JFK? King? Even John Lennon?
Dare you compare yourself to my Son?
All I asked you to do was a simple, little task – nothing all that big or difficult.
And this is how you respond?
Garvey thinks it over.
While Garvey is considering God’s words,
God shoots him.
Fucking ingrate. Fucking crumb. He mutters and walks off.
The Writer's Village 
love it!
thanks, mimi.
God does call me up to chat, and so it’s really like what do I do? I gotta be honest. Last time… my first reaction was to push frantically at the snooze button for several moments before I realized I had my cell on vibrate. After that, it went something like this:
Bzzzzzzt.
“What the fuck?”
“Annie?”
“What the fuck?!”
“It’s God. Can you talk?”
“I have fucking Caller ID, moron. Call me the fuck back. It’s 4:38 in the fucking morning.”
I tucked the phone between my legs and went back to sleep.
Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [voicemail]
Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [voicemail]
Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [pause] Bzzzzzzt. [voicemail]
It was enough to put me in a slightly better mood.
Bzzzzzzt.
“Hello?”
“What the fuck?”
“Oh, come on, we worked hard on this, don’t make me hang up again.”
“You put me between your legs again, didn’t you?”
“Mmm…… if I did, you’ve lost something. Why the fuck are you calling me at 4:38 in the fucking morning?”
“You’re the only one I can talk to.”
“Oh shit! Not her again! You know how cheap it makes me feel when you buzz my crotch over her?”
“You bitch! Your phone was on your nightstand when I called the first time. I checked GPS.”
“Whatever. Dude! She doesn’t love you.”
“But she said she believes in me, not magic.”
“You’re unreal. Why can’t you get wood for someone like Anne Coulter. She’ll straight fuck you if you endorse her book.”
“Come on. You know I don’t even endorse my own book.”
“Holy crap! We’ve been through this! It’s not your fucking book if you didn’t write it!”
“You’re a woman, Annie. You can talk to her.”
“Do you hear yourself? No one can talk to her. God can’t talk to her. Get a clue!”
“But you’re a writer. She’ll listen to you.”
“What is the matter with you? I’m Anne who-the-fuck Schilde. She’s J.K. fucking Rowling! She’s not going to listen to me!”
“I can arrange for you to meet her.”
“Oh my fucking… BLANK! Didn’t you go through this before when you had that gay thing for John Lennon? Who the fuck did you call at 4:38 in the morning about that?”
Silence.
“Exactly! She’s bigger than you are now. Just get over it!”
[Call Ended]
[Open text message]
“Psst… fuckin with you again… she’s been here with me the whole time. :)”
I tucked the phone between my legs again.
Here’s the thing, Randy. This post is like super old, and so if someone besides you does happen to suddenly read this a-characteristic comment of mine… well, I obviously have friends in high places. 😉
♥ Annie
OOOHHHH, are you in trouble.
That was funny.
I wonder what carrier God uses?
Persistent callers do have their uses. 🙂
Mmmm.
So many new ideas, new uses, new ways, new pleasures.
More dialogue, except this time it’s between Randy and Annie;
Though God must be listening (maybe reading, since this is a blog) –
Randy: Did I really understand correctly that you were writing that God had the hots for both John Lennon and J.K. Rowling?
Annie: Naw, it’s me he has “the hots” for. He just says stuff like that at 4:38 in the morning to make me mad. The stuff about John Lennon was leftover from an old argument. I reminded him that John said he was more popular… he said John was dead… I said, yeah, well Nietzsche said the same thing about you… it didn’t end very well.
Bahahahahahahahha! Putting my phone between my legs when there’s an incessant caller. Brilliant! Also loved: I’m Anne who-the-fuck Schilde. She’s J.K. fucking Rowling!
You’re so brilliant, Anne! I would tell you to post it on your blog but the language… you’d need a couple of warnings for your readers. 😛
– Ermisenda
I sent it on to Anne by email as well as posting this on my page. Thanks. She is great, isn’t she.
To be honest, if I’m not reigning myself back at all, I’d say, “Where the fuck have you been?”
– Ermisenda
😉 I love it!!!!!