One January Morning, Part 27
Now Pirate Morgan is confused. Or at least she looks it. Her eyes dart from God to me, from me to God. When she came up here, it was me that she thought she needed to make nice with, but now that the Big Boss is back, now all bets are off.
“Who do I need to speak with?” she asks. “Whose ass do I have to kiss to get this done?”
God laughs as He sits himself down in one of the two chairs on that side of my desk. “Well,” He says, “my ass needs kissing. So, unless Morgan over there intends on kissing my ass after you kiss his—”
“Which I do not,” I say.
“—then, I’m afraid it’s me you’re answering to,” says God.
Pirate Morgan groans. This will be more difficult than she’d imagined.
To be continued…