As the story goes, in the beginning, there was darkness. This prelude was not entirely accurate but completely understandable since it was a second hand account. If it was truly the beginning it would stand to reason that there would be no one there to document it. Still, that isn’t a really important plot point, so let’s move on shall we?
In the beginning, there was not darkness, but chaos. An unformed energy that housed the self-proclaimed Lords of Chaos. Again, another glaring inaccuracy as it would be hard to be a lord if you had no one to lord it over.
Anyway, one day, which I will not point out that that is also false as days are a function of time that didn’t exist at this point, a friendly and omnipotent being showed up and took hold of the chaos. With a few blinks, nods, and exertions of power that are without a doubt immeasurable by any standards, this fellow formed a universe with the building blocks that had previously been the home to the Chaos beings. This fellow then introduced himself to the now displaced creatures as God.
On this day, many things were implemented. For the Chaos Lords, the most annoying of those things was order. This caused them no end of grief. They even tried to figure out a way to form a committee to formally protest this new wrinkle in creation. Sadly though, they had no frame of reference for doing so, they quickly grew bored with the idea. They just grumbled a lot but accepted that they were no longer alone in the universe.
Well, most of them did as such. The most powerful of the Chaos Lords, a being that had designated himself as Plosmo, except on Tuesdays as they would one day be called, took it upon himself to go and ask God where he got off. God, being infinitely wiser and more powerful than the complaining blob that was the Chaos Lord, simply smiled at his creation which bathed Plosmo in an ethereal and near unbearable glow of love. Plosmo noted that it kind of tickled, but managed to push the sensation aside to state his case.
“You were aware that we lived in that?” Plosmo grumbled.
“Of course, I am aware of everything, past, present and future.”
“Well, I have no idea what you are talking about, which is fine and happens a lot, but I must protest. That was our home.”
“I made the chaos too, so if I want to make something else out of it, you’ll just have to deal with it,” God replied.
Plosmo didn’t know what else to do, so he went about trying to deal with it. It had never occurred to him that they were the tenants not the owners. With that he went to see if anything new had popped up in this burgeoning universe while he had been conversing.
In a while, which may have been several millennia or seven days, God finished his work on the Universe. To the Chaos Lords, who were bereft of time pieces, it just seemed as if suddenly there was a bunch of new stuff. Although it had a certain natural order about it, it was easily disrupted and therefore fun to play with. God didn’t seem to mind, so they rejoiced.
Eventually a few of them discovered a small bipedal creature called man on a rather small blue planet. These creatures showed a tremendous lack of imagination and called the planet they lived on Earth. Plosmo, for one had found that vexing. He could not comprehend why they didn’t change the name of their planet every once in a while, just to keep it fresh. It may have even allowed them to fool themselves into thinking they had just gotten a whole new planet.
Order took hold. Then God noticed that in their order they had grown very arrogant and downright nasty. After some deliberation with Himself, God opted to send in the rains and drown the majority of the people. The Chaos beings that got to witness it found it very interesting and not just a little bit funny. They particularly liked how the humans would wait until the water got over their heads before they began to panic. When it dawned on them to do so, they would take turns going to God and thank him for the amusement.
“It was not for your amusement that I did this thing,” God would tell them. “It is not a joke. As a matter of fact, it makes me very sad. They had just gotten too naughty for their own good.”
That just made the Chaos beings, in general, laugh harder. All, except for Plosmo. It made him curious. When it occurred to him to sate his curiosity, he once again approached the Creator. “So how did they get so naughty?” he posed with the proper reverence.
“They grew arrogant in their order and forgot who made them.”
“Then why did you make them so orderly?”
The familiar feeling of tickling love washed over the amorphous frame of the Chaos Lord. Plosmo liked that.
“They had to have order in them,” God began to explain. “That is how they survive. But they have chaos in them as well. That is the stuff that makes them alive.”
Plosmo didn’t understand exactly what God meant, but he did like the fact that the force he represented was part of these weird creatures. He absently wished he had a chin to rub while he pondered these words but having no chin or hands for that matter, he nearly chose to dismiss the whole thing. On a whim, he instead opted to ask for clarification “I don’t understand.”
God smiled, in his pleasant condescending way, “Of course not. I didn’t make you to do so.”
“You made me?” Plosmo asked, shocked by the revelation. For a moment it made sense, since he had claimed to own and or make everything else.
“I made everything," God stated, stating what the Chaos Lord had already realized and promptly forgot.
Now Plosmo was wishing for shoulders to shrug, as this didn’t seem all that important anymore and he was growing bored with the whole thing. He decided he had learned enough for the time being and since it wasn’t in his nature to retain knowledge, most of what he learned was largely useless. As he turned to leave, however, another idea popped into whatever was serving as a brain for him. “You did save some of them, did you not?”
God nodded. “A few of my favorites.”
“Can we teach them to embrace our ways as opposed to orders?”
“You can try, but they aren’t made to understand you completely either. You see, I only made them smart enough to think they are smarter than they are.”
“That is funny,” The Chaos Lord observed.
“Yes, yes it is.”
Somewhere, across both time and space, a solitary voice cried out. It wasn’t really a voice, more of a thought, a desperate plea formed as a prayer. It sped through the universe, seeking the ear of the Creator in anguished tones. “Lord, I’m going to be late for work. Help me find my shoes!”