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He's watching the end of an American football game when it happens. It might be the Super Bowl. Then again, maybe not. It doesn't matter. He's not like invested in sports; it's just where most of the name-dropping tends to happen. That and award shows are like Christmas. Or... not Christmas. That's an entirely different ball game. Huh - for as much as he doesn't care about sports, they sure provide great metaphors.
The fact is, one second He's staring at the wall of infinite televisions focused on hearing one name and one name only, and the next He's hearing a pop and seeing someone (or something) who is definitely not Sanjay or Rosie. So that's new.
"Hello," it (she?) says. It looks familiar, probably an angel He's dealt with in the past.
"Uh, hi," God says in return. "Something I can help you find?" How did she (it?) get in anyway? There's restrictions, or there's supposed to be restrictions, power limiters to keep just anyone from wandering into His offices.
"Yes," the being replies, then frowns. It looks Him up and down. If he didn't know any better, God would think it was judging Him, or his sense of fashion at least. That hardly seems fair. He's an important guy, after all. He's allowed to wear sweatpants and socks with sandals if he wants. Not like He has the time to get all dolled up like this one seems to...
The being blinks at him, still frowning. "Are you... God?"
It's the snappy fashion sense that jogs His memory. The skirt suit, the blouse, the pumps. He hasn't seen one of these in eons.
"Janet!" God jumps to his feet. "You're a Janet." The Janet in front of him smiles slightly and nods, and God feels the slightest pang of regret for forgetting He made them (and then for remembering He made them so He wouldn't have to deal directly with the rest of the Celestial Bureaucracy.). "Oh wow, well come... forward?" He didn't realize how close it'd appeared to Him until He stood up. Yeesh.
The Janet stays put, staring Him down. "We need your help in the Medium Place."
It's God's turn to frown. "There's a lot of things wrong with that sentence," He says without meaning to. He's confused, though. Janets are the epitome of self-sufficiency, and to His knowledge there aren't any Janets in the Medium Place. If there were, it'd be a Neutral Janet, but this one is colorful and expressive like a Good Place Janet. If there was a mix-up in assignments, then it's HR's problem, not His. "Look, I don't know what you're working with right now, but I think someone in the lower - "
"No," Janet interrupts. "This is a You problem." God gives her His best unimpressed face. "I mean a problem for You."
"Is it really though?" He asks.
"Yes," says Janet. "It's crucial."
God groans and flops back down on the couch. "Sit, sit. So you're in the Medium Place, huh? Mindy always was a problem child."
Janet sits next to Him and smooths out their skirt. "This isn't about Mindy."
"Huh," says God. Must be more residents there than He thought. The times, how they change. "So, did Gen send you?"
The Janet frowns at Him. "You know Gen?"
"Ugh." God buries His face in his hands. Gen is great; Gen is the best judge. She really knows how to handle her shit, but by Him, He just couldn't handle listening to her talk about her TV shows anymore. The last time He'd talked to her was years ago, and it was Mark Harmon this, Kyle Chandler that. Maybe she was onto something by focusing on fictional shows and not torturing herself with the continual stream of news and sports God has going in His living room, but still. There's only so much fandom talk He can take. "Yes, I know Gen, and if you haven't already run this by her, you should because she's really - "
"No," Janet interrupts. "No, going back to your question, Gen did not send me. Gen knows I'm here, but I came of my own free will."
God looks up at Janet. "Your... your free will? Since when do Janets have free will?" Dang, but He really is out of the loop here.
"They don't usually," says the Janet. Its already perfect posture seems to straighten up further, and there's something like pride twinkling in its eyes. "But I'm the most advanced Janet of my kind, maybe ever. I've been rebooted over 800 times and - "
"Yikes," God says. "Kiddo, what are they doing to you down there?"
Janet frowns again. "It's a long story."
"Eh, then don't bother," God replies, picking up the remote and intending to turn back to His TVs. "Look, Heaven's a pretty boring place, but I'm sure we can find work for you up here, or we can get whoever's doing that to you sent downstairs - "
"NO!" God jumps at the Janet's outburst. He glances over to find it staring at Him with renewed intensity. "No, please don't. They're my friends."
It's God's turn to frown. "Who is?"
There's a pause, like Janet doesn't want to tell Him. Like He's going to do anything with whatever information it tells him. It gives a little shake of its head, and then the Janet is back to staring Him down. "You can't send them to the Bad Place. We've already been there. And then Earth. And now the Medium Place."
"Doing what?" God asks. "And how? Is there like an elevator I don't know about?"
"I made a neighborhood there," the Janet continues. "In the Medium Place - "
"You made a neighborhood?" This story gets wilder by the minute, God thinks. "You and not an architect, or a team of worker angels?"
"I had some help, but for the most part, yes," says Janet.
"You know anything about making restaurants?" God asks.
"Mmhmm," Janet replies, seeming confused by the change in topic but rolling with it regardless. "Lots."
God claps his hands together, feeling gleeful for the first time all day. Or week. Or hour. However long it's been since He sent Sanjay down to the Department of Genitals. "Great," He says. "You're hired!"
Janet keeps frowning, shaking its head again. "No, you don't understand. I already have a job I need to be doing."
"We'll get someone else in there," God replies. "I need your restaurant-building expertise for the Lazy Susan."
"The Lazy Susan, or cānzhuō zhuànpán, has already been invented, though no one knows its exact year of origin," Janet tells him. "It's currently being used in many restaurants on Earth."
"Yeah, no," says God, "I'm making a restaurant called the Lazy Susan out in space. I'm making it where Earth is now once I blow it up."
Janet's face falls into a look of terror. Huh. Good to know He can instill that kind of fear into inanimate objects too. "What."
"Earth, I'm getting rid of it," God tells her. Now who's out of the loop, huh? He's still got it. "But you're - you guys are in the afterlife, yeah? So it shouldn't affect you and your 'friends' since they're already dead."
The Janet jumps to its well-heeled feet. "You can't just do that." Janet towers over Him, furious. "What the hey? No, when Michael and I wanted to change the system, they told us we have to go through millennia of committees and subcommittees - "
God spreads His hands out to the side, palms up, a clear 'what are you gonna do about it?' gesture. "Not if you're at the top, kid."
"No, this decision will affect them," Janet continues, "because everyone - literally everyone on Earth is going to die."
"That's the plan, yeah," God says.
"And literally every person on that planet is going to Hell." The Janet puts its hands on its head, like it's in pain. "The entire population of the world, seven billion people are going to be wrongfully damned for eternity."
God looks up at the Janet. If He didn't know any better, He'd say its eyes were tearing up. "Oh."
Janet throws it arms down, glaring at Him again. "Yeah, 'oh.'"
God stands up and moves past it. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."
Janet watches Him walk toward the refrigerator, but it doesn't follow Him. "Look," it says. "I'm sorry for the attitude, but the points system - "
"No, I meant I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear all of that." God grabs a bottle and turns back to the Janet. "You want a beer?"
"No!" Janet stalks over to Him. "No, this has gone on long enough! No one has gotten into the Good Place in 521 years."
"Huh," God replies, at a loss for any real contribution to the conversation. That's... well that can't be right. That's what the plethora of accountants are around for, isn't it? To make sure the right people are getting where they need to go? That's out of His control now, isn't it? Numbers were never His strongest suit. Still, 500 years is enough to make Him uncomfortable. Wow. Well thank Him and His infinite wisdom for nuking the whole entire planet in two weeks. Then no one will ever have to worry about math again, not this life or... well, this life.
God takes a step toward the Janet. "My advice, my child, is don't worry about it."
"Don't worry about it," Janet repeats flatly.
"Yeah, don't think about it too much," He tells it. "You'll go crazy."
In the blink of an eye, Janet has its hand around His throat and God's back pressed up against the fridge.
"It's too late for that!" Janet shrieks.
"No it's not," God grumbles, His voice not affected by what would otherwise be a chokehold. "It's never too late to ignore your problems. You know what kind of meeting I had yesterday morning?" Janet says nothing, just continues to stare at Him. "I was supposed to discuss my plan to end all human suffering." He gestures toward the wall of TVs with the hand holding His beer. "Check that out. The ice caps are melting, there's overpopulation, homelessness epidemics, a typhoon one of my recent transfers caused by accident that killed thousands of people. So... yeah." He brings the bottle up to His lips, avoiding Janet's icy stare. "Big advocate of ignoring your problems right now."
Janet doesn't let go of his neck, but when it speaks again there's what can only be compassion in its voice. "I'm sorry," Janet tells Him. "But it has to be dealt with. You're the highest up here. We need your help."
"You're better off handling it on your own," God tells Janet. "And I mean that, I'm not just saying it to get you off my back." Janet cocks its head. "Okay, I'm kind of saying it to get you off my back. You said you made a neighborhood?"
"I did, yes," says Janet.
"Did you make people to go in the neighborhood?" God asks.
Janet hesitates. "I did, yes," it tells Him.
God's a little jealous of that, He won't lie. "Individual people, no clones? No robots, no werepeople or humans with three legs and no arms?"
"What?" says Janet. "No, I made them... like me." He can see the moment Janet gets it.
God smiles back at Janet sadly. "You don't need me. I haven't dealt with the bureaucracy in years, and now I'm threatening to blow up the only livable planet we have. I doubt they'd take any plans to overthrow the system seriously coming from me." He takes a chance and reaches out to touch Janet on the cheek. "You have my power, yeah? Take it for a test drive in the Medium Place, come back in a few weeks and maybe I'll have a completely different position you can fill up here."
Janet lets go of Him but doesn't shake off the hand on its cheek. "Please," it says. "Please just consider it. Consider talking to someone about the points system, about where all those people are going to go once the Earth is gone. Things can only change if we make them change."
God snorts. "You send me a memo, put it in my inbox, and I'll see what I can do."
Janet glances over at His desk, at the tray already overflowing with requests. "Why do I doubt that?"
"Doubt from a being designed specifically to serve me and my followers?" God winces. "That one stings a little."
Janet smiles at Him then, teeth and all. "800 reboots will do that to a Janet. You should see my passive aggression."
"There's that streak of pride I know and loathe," God replies. "You'll make a great creator. Or, well, you already did the creating. Now go, overthrow the government or whatever while you're up here. Get out if you're not gonna help with the restaurant."
"Okay," says Janet, taking a step back. It looks down at Him for another long moment. "You know, speaking of restaurants, have you been to the IHOP lately?"
"Oh yeah, I put in a tenth dimension!" God crows. "Pretty neat, huh?"
"Yeah, it was," Janet tells Him.
"Yeah, but now I actually have to make food for this interdimensional restaurant, so that's gonna be fun," God says.
"Yeah," says Janet, crinkling its nose at Him. It's almost a smile, but it's more judgmental than that. "Yeah, fun."
God takes another swig of His beer. "You'll have fun again someday too, once you get everything you need straightened out, uh, straightened out."
"I hope you're right," says Janet, taking another step away from Him. He doesn't need to be omnipotent to know that their conversation is over
"Hey, and Janet?" God says, sensing it's impending departure. "Don't be a stranger, yeah?"
Janet gives Him an enigmatic smile. "We'll see," it says, and then it's gone, disappearing with another pop.
God looks around His empty living room, then down into His nearly-empty bottle of beer. "Yeah, that's fair."