“Don’t you believe in God?” the man said.
“Yep,” Maynard replied. “You’re looking at him.”
The man’s face went pale, his formerly fiery eyes now hollow and blank. Maynard could almost read his thoughts using his stupid face. What if that was true? He’d never thought of it that way. Bible God was nothing like this skinny, geeky guy with the power of life and death over everyone in the world. Maybe God was a pathetic, angry person with nothing but malice towards all. Maybe everything until now had been a lie.
Predictably, the man started weeping. Maynard stood and watched him, feeling nothing. His elated response to breaking down alpha males and stuck up women hit its peak quite a while back. The man fell to his knees, sobbing, shoulders rising and falling, babbling incoherently. God, he was annoying!
Maynard shook his head and looked up at the sky. It was still pervasively orange, thanks to Wish number four. Was there a time limit on wishes? If so, he would wind up headless and dragged through the streets like Mussolini one day. The thought amused him as he pictured himself the eternal bogeyman of the misguided human race.
“You..can…fix this,” the man said between sobs. “You…have…powers!”
Maynard smiled. “Sorry, they’re all used up.”
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