A long, long time ago God was all alone in the world. He lived alone, ate alone and drank alone. He had no friends, no followers, no believers—just himself and all the power in the universe.

Then, one day God decided to change things. He made the Earth, the heavens and all of the stars in the sky. When he made Earth, he realized he could put stuff on it and it wouldn't fall off. (Later, he heard you could put a spoon on your nose without it falling off. That was bullshit.)

Bewildered by his ability to put stuff on a sphere without it falling off, he proceeded to put animals, plants and fish on there as well. He even put a bunch of rocks in bizarre formations just to mess with people. But, alas, he still felt alone. He had created this Earth and nobody knew it. Sure he was God, but he wanted some damn respect from the stuff he put on the Earth. So he decided the rulers of the Earth, the dinosaurs, had to worship him. How would he do it? Well, he'd send his only son of course. How would he get a son when he was all alone? Don't ask so many fucking questions, hippie.

He decided to pick a bird to deliver his message. He selected the dodo bird because of its unfortunate name and appearance. He selected the ugliest dodo bird because it would have thrown itself into an oncoming carnivore if God hadn't intervened and made him his right-hand, messenger bird.

God had a couple problems to solve. First, this bird was dumb as a post. You don't get a name like dodo breaking the bank on survival tests like "Find the Fish" and "Don't Get Eaten." Anyway, God decided to make the bird wise. And it was so, ‘cause that's just how kick ass things work when you're God. So he had his messenger, his plan, and the dinosaurs. Now, all he needed was to pick a dinosaur.

God thought about this one because he couldn't just pick any of his great dinosaurs, he had to pick the right kind and the right specific one. After a few millennia of mulling it over, he decided on Wendy the brontosaurus. He chose a brontosaurus because they were big enough to intimidate everybody else, but never really did anything since all they ate were plants. They basically ate leaves off of trees for 70 percent of their lives and spent the rest of the time sleeping. God chose Wendy because….well….you see, all brontosauruses look alike. That sounds racist but it's true. Their genitals are on the inside so you can't even tell if it's a lady brontosaurus or not. Frankly, eeny meeny miney moe would have produced the exact same result. But, God's a strange guy much of the time so the bearer of his child would be Wendy.

Upon making this decision, God called upon his saved dodo, who he called "Shitbox." Shitbox got this name because dodo birds are not housebroken and God did not realize this until he scooped up Shitbox to be his right hand man. But since God is as stubborn as they come, he stuck with his decision and just gave him the name Shitbox as punishment. Anyway, Shitbox heard the news and was excited because he wanted some credit as well. He hadn't done anything deserving credit yet besides shitting all over God's house, but that's not really something to brag about, is it?

So, Shitbox went on his way to Earth and found Wendy at home (which for most brontosauruses is nothing more than somewhere within five minutes of the nearest forest). Wendy was sleeping and Shitbox burst onto the scene in a manner fitting for a dodo named Shitbox.

"Jesus, what is that smell?" Wendy wheeled around to see Shitbox and his gift to her.

"Don't worry, God usually cleans that up."

"Who's God?"

"He's great, he saved me from being extinct and named me Shitbox."

"I was going to say I've never seen anything like you before."

"That's right, you haven't. But the reason I am coming to you is that you will bear a child in the near future."

"Yeah, I know. I do that pretty often; I've already got like 20 kids."

"Yeah, but this one is different. He's the son of God. God created you and everything on this Earth. He even created the Earth. Don't you ever wonder why you don't fall off the Earth? God did that."

"I don't ask those kinds of questions, Shitbox."

"Well, this kid is special because he will have special powers to heal and make a small amount of stuff become a larger amount of stuff, within reason."

"Why didn't this God tell me this himself?"

"He's actually a very poor public speaker. He was alone for a long time so all he gets all sweaty and nervous and his voice cracks. If you saw him speak you'd never believe anything he said."

"So….he sent an extinct bird named Shitbox to tell me instead."

"Exactly."

"Alright, let's say I buy all this nonsense and the kid's special. How do I know? I lay like 14 eggs at a time, and in case you haven't noticed, we all look exactly the same. I almost started hitting on one of my sons today in the forest… it was so awkward."

"I don't know. He'll be doing cool stuff. He'll be telling you about God and all the great stuff God has done and will do if you just do what God tells you to do."

"Will he be like….black or something?"

"Wendy, that's ridiculous. God is not black and he is not making his kid black."

"So, basically, one of the kids I'm having is special and I am to be nice to him."

"No. He's the messiah. He's God on Earth. He's the cat's pajamas, baby!"

"Listen, Shitbox. I don't know what you want from me. I'll keep an eye out for any special kids, but if I start giving one special treatment then they're all gonna get jealous. So, I'll do my best."

"Just you wait. It's gonna be awesome. He'll probably be able to fly."

"Well, if he can fly then I'll do whatever you want but until then tell ‘God' to stay away from my eggs."

Proud of himself for delivering the message and explaining God's plan so clearly, Shitbox headed back to God's House. When he got there, he found God slamming his head into the wall.

"I know it doesn't hurt you but that noise is really obnoxious."

"YOU! I SAVED YOU! I SAVED A FUCKING RETARD OF A BIRD TO BE MY MESSENGER! ‘Oh yeah, God, totally, he'll be fine. He's quirky. They'll love him down on Earth.' Wendy doesn't even care that one of those eggs is my kid and YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL HER WHICH ONE HE WAS GOING TO BE!!" The Lord was not exactly happy at this point. He had watched the interaction take place and reacted like most people would react when they send someone to do a simple, yet important task and that person turns it into a complete mess.

"Listen, she was totally cool about it. She gets me. She'll take care of business," Shitbox replied.

"Shitbox, if she doesn't, then it's on you. And there's going to be nobody but me and my almighty stick up your ass for the rest of your stupid life."

"I can see you're mad but…..I picked up some Oreos and milk on the way home. Because I know you love dunking Oreos in milk."

"Listen man….ah, Shitbox….I can't stay mad at you."

Wendy had just finished her birthing of a whole bunch of eggs and she frowned. All these eggs look alike. She hated the stereotype, but it was true, they really did all look alike. If that Shitbox was right, then one of these guys was special. And, within the first hour of their lives, they were all the same.

Ten years later things were different. One of these kids was different. And if that one kid didn't shape up she would have no problem dropping a three ton boulder on his face because that's what this kid was like. The kid's name was Bruce, and Bruce would not shut his mouth long enough to let his brothers and sisters say anything. He talked about all the stuff he knew, but nobody really cared because the life of a brontosaurus was really just eating leaves and sleeping.

Then one day, Bruce decided to go for it all.

"Hey guys, check out what I can do." Bruce wagged his tail and looked around for approval.

His brother Donald frowned, unimpressed. "Dude, you always do this and we never see anything? What did you just do?"

"He didn't do anything! Just ignore him. He just wants attention," said Kelly, the oldest sibling.

"No, no, guys, look, I made 70 trees into 120 trees. We'll have leaves forever now! How great is that?"

Donald, again, was unimpressed.

"Do you see anybody starving for lack of leaves? If there's one thing we do NOT need any more of it's leaves. There's gotta be like 50 billion trees around here it would take forever for us to actually care that you made 50 trees just appear."

"But isn't that cool? I can make trees appear. Guys?" the son of God pleaded.

Everybody shook their heads, they usually just heeded Kelly's advice and ignored him. This time was no different. Wendy came over now to see what all the commotion was about.

"Bruce, are you talking like an idiot again?"

"Mom, they don't believe me that I can make 50 trees appear," Bruce whined.

"Nobody gives a shit, Bruce. Of all the things you could do, why would you decide to make more trees? They don't taste any better and we can't even tell you made them because we already have so many."

"Yeah," Donald added, "so shut up, eating time is almost over."

Wendy was in a constant state of conflict. If this kid was really the special kid Shitbox had told her about then this God was really quite something. The bird gave her no instructions on what to do witch the kid, only that he was going to come. But this couldn't possibly be him, could he? This kid was obnoxious and nobody liked him. Shouldn't the son of the creator of all things be cooler than this? All this guy does is make trees 50 at a time.

The next day, Bruce decided he would try something other than making trees. He would try to fly. As usual, nobody believed him when he told them of his next amazing feat. So, he got everybody to come watch him leap off a cliff and fly around and come right back. They reluctantly agreed and to the cliff they went.

Bruce gave a dumb speech about life, or something stupid, nobody was really listening. And then he lept off the cliff…and fell quite a long way into a cavern.

A long silence followed, then Kelly spoke the sentiment of everyone in attendance.

"I knew he couldn't fly. What an idiot. I'm glad he's dead."

And that was it for God's son on Earth.

God once again started banging his head against the wall. Where had he gone wrong? He'd admit that maybe Shitbox was not the best choice to handle his message, but that wasn't even the problem. Nobody liked his son and his son killed himself thinking he could fly. Nobody can fly! Why wasn't the power of creating food for his family good enough to impress people? Should he have given Bruce more powers? Should Bruce be able to do pretty much anything he feels like? Should a parent really let their kid do that? Good parents don't just give their kid free reign.

Oh, and Shitbox? He died. God killed him. This wasn't in the Bible ‘cause it was a pretty big misstep. Later on, God tried sending his kid to earth again with mixed results.

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