An Unfair Advantage1

1 requires familiarity with the Bible and Sailor Moon2
2 either the original or the terrible English dub.

In the beginning, there was the lake. It was placid. It was calm. It was empty. Then the Creator came, and moved his hand across the waters, and from the ripples of its passage came the world.

“But is it good?” asked the Advocate.

“I shall give it time,” the Creator answered. Years passed. Millennia passed. The Advocate grew impatient. He gathered darkness about himself and dove into the lake. In its depths he built a world of his own.

“Has aught formed of interest?” asked the Creator, turning from his meditations.

The Advocate did not answer; so the Creator passed his hand across the sky and a new Advocate was born. “No,” the Second Advocate said. “There is life; and civilization; and the Romans have created vomitoriums; but there is nothing of true interest there.”

The Creator nodded, and returned to his thoughts. The Second Advocate paced through the skies beside him.

“Look,” he said. The Creator looked down.

“Ah,” said the Creator. “They have made something worthy of my admiration.”

The Creator dressed up in a Sailor Moon costume. “Moon Prism Power — MAKE UP!” he cried.

“Admirable,” applauded the Second Advocate. “Admirable!”

“In the name of the moon, I’ll learn you!”

The Second Advocate looked nervous. “I’m already very learned, sir.”

“Ah,” agreed the Creator. “So you are.”

The Creator wrapped his glory around himself and dove under the lake, descending to the shadow world of the Advocate’s creation. He rapped his scepter upon its gates.

The Advocate’s Ancillary came and peered through the gates. “Hello?”

“Open, in the name of love and justice!”

The Advocate’s Ancillary held up his index finger. “One moment.” He went inside and spoke to the Advocate. “Sailor Moon is at the gates, sir.”

“I didn’t know she was real,” admitted the Advocate. “Nor can I understand how she was damned.”

“Her heart was true,” answered the Ancillary. “But I suspect that she did not abide by the instructions of Leviticus.”

“Ah, yes,” said the Advocate. “It’s the technicalities that damn even the best of them. Well, let her in.”

The Ancillary returned to the gates. “I shall take you to the Palace of All Shadows,” he said, and bowed. “The Advocate is rather a fan.” He led the Creator of all things before the Advocate’s throne; and bowed; and then withdrew.

“You do not kneel, Sailor Moon,” said the Advocate. “Surely you recognize that Hell is not Neo-Tokyo, and thus you are not its Queen.”

“You skulk in darkness and collect the souls of all humanity,” declared the Creator, “committing the worst of crimes against their virtuous hearts! In the name of the moon, the pretty sailor-suited soldier of love and justice will destroy you!”

“Bah,” said the Advocate. He waved his hand and tendrils of his shadow rose from the floor to wrap around the Creator. The Creator struggled helplessly. Suddenly, a rose flew into the room to thunk into the Advocate’s head. He blinked, and the shadows dissolved.

“Tuxedo Kamen!” cried the Creator. It wasn’t actually Tuxedo Kamen, however; it was the Second Advocate.

“As you walk in the valley of darkness, Sailor Moon,” cried the Second Advocate, “remember that you have infinite cosmic power!”

“She doesn’t have infinite cosmic power,” frowned the Advocate. “She has Moon Prism Power.”

The Creator looked embarrassed. “Well . . .”

“Now, Sailor Moon!” cried the Tuxedo Second Advocate.

“Right!”

Music played. The Creator swept his scepter around. “ALL-EMBRACING LOVE — EXPLOSION!”

“I recognize this power,” wailed the Advocate. “You’re not Sailor Moon. You’re . . . you’re . . .”

Hell exploded. The Creator’s all-embracing love consumed the shadow of the Advocate and shredded it into tatters. The Creator took everybody’s souls and went home.

The Advocate drifted, lost and alone, in the outer darkness. A whale swam up and ate him.

“Omnipotence is unfair,” he said, bitterly, as the digestion process began.

2 thoughts on “An Unfair Advantage1

  1. I couldn’t help but be reminded of this entry in Ambrose Bierce’s Devil’s Dictionary:

    SATAN, n. One of the Creator’s lamentable mistakes, repented in
    sashcloth and axes. Being instated as an archangel, Satan made
    himself multifariously objectionable and was finally expelled from
    Heaven. Halfway in his descent he paused, bent his head in thought a
    moment and at last went back. “There is one favor that I should like
    to ask,” said he.
    “Name it.”
    “Man, I understand, is about to be created. He will need laws.”
    “What, wretch! you his appointed adversary, charged from the dawn
    of eternity with hatred of his soul — you ask for the right to make
    his laws?”
    “Pardon; what I have to ask is that he be permitted to make them
    himself.”
    It was so ordered.

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