“Oh, Creator…” Divan says to me with a cheesy smirk on his face.
“I can’t believe this rental house has a portrait of you!”
(Very funny. **glares** Isn’t it time to leave? After all, you aren’t making any money and your funds are so low, you might not be able to pay your bills.)
“Aww…did you have to remind me? I’ve got work tomorrow.” Divan sighs, kicking at an imaginary stone.
(Wah. Life’s plum. Sorry, Divan, but until you can build up funds, you must work for a living.)
“Yeah, yeah…and what do you do all day besides bug me?”
(I work…but I’m on vacation now, so I’ve got LOADS of time to bug you.)
In a flash, the family jettisons home. Divan rubs his temples. “Can you possibly do that in a way that doesn’t cause headaches?”
(Hey. I’m just the Creator, not the Designer.)
“Well, tell the Designers I’d like to meet them in a dark alley sometime. I’ll be packing my ray gun.”
Later that evening, I find Divan in Hunter’s room on the computer.
(Divan! What is up with Hunter’s décor? And HOW did he get the money to change it?)
“I kind of like the ambiance in here. And the money? Heh. I’ve got that all taken care of.”
(I don’t like the sound of that. What are you up to?)
Divan taps out something on the computer. It looks as if he’s chatting with about five other people.
(Divan. DIVAN! What are you doing?)
“Hold on, Creator! You’re going to be AMAZED at my ingenuity! Remember how tired I’d always get when I’d have to do a shift at work and then endlessly have to garden to make enough money to give my family a nice home?” He hits the SEND button. “Well, now I’ve got people who WANT to tend my garden and all I have to do is go to sleep.”
Divan yawns and stretches, arching his back like a cat. “I believe I will retire to my bedroom.”
I glance at the garden. It’s in shambles.
(Divan! You’d better not be bluffing because any more neglect of your plants will be detrimental to your money situation!)
Divan seems to not hear me. He just sleeps away. And then I notice a strange crown on his plumbob.
To his word, in the middle of the night, like the shoemaker’s elves, five people slink out of the night and start pulling up weeds, spraying for bugs and watering Divan’s plants!
And then I see a notification.
(That snake! He lets those poor people labor in his garden while he sleeps? And he calls them his slaves???? Oh…it’s worse than I thought. **rubs temples**)
The next morning as Divan’s garden sparkles from his slave’s toil, he heads to work.
(What is that smile, Divan? I’m scared.)
“Aw, c’mon, Creator. Give it up! You know you’re proud of me.”
(Well…I’ll have to admit…you did say you had everything under control. And those people did seem happy to garden in the middle of the night. I don’t know how you did it, but as much as I hate to say it, Divan, nice job!)
“Thank you, Creator.” Divan cracks his knuckles. “And now to get on with my promotion.” He whips out his ray gun.
(I don’t think your promotion depends on you using that thing.)
“Um…yes it does! And I’m going to inject a little fun around here. See that new girl who just started working in the lab? She’s been following me around all morning, flirting. So, I’m just going to give her what she wants!”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
He saunters up to the blonde lady. “Hey, beautiful.”
WHIR WHIR WHOOSH!
Immediately, she’s standing there in nothing but a negligée.
(Okay. Stop. The sexual harassment bit is getting old.)
Divan doubles over in laughter. Wiping tears from his eyes, he says, “Oh contraire, Creator. It never gets old.” Skipping over to the poor receptionist, he blasts her into her lingerie.
Divan lifts his arms, hooting and hollering.
(**crosses arms** You do realize you’re acting like a junior high kid. Now stop this nonsense and get back to work.)
“Okay, Creator, but you’ve got to admit. I make you laugh, don’t I?”
(Grrr…I’ll never admit to that.)