The Big Bang Theory

It's not easy being God.

You think I'm joking? I've got a six day working week, where I have to work 18 hours of each of those days. My job description is "make a universe, and put some life in it." Carte blanche is all well and good, but that doesn't diminish the amount of effort that goes into it. So I'd like to think that on the seventh day, I'm allowed to rest.

"You'll take this ship down to the surface!"

I grunt, turning over in my bed, thinking that I've got to shave my beard at some point within the next millennium. Oh, and I've got to lay off the apples. There's far too much sugar in them.

"We're already moving away."

I grunt again, opening an eye to my omni-viewer. I spent Saturday evening playing an RTS on God mode (I'm entitled to it, damn it), but now it's switched to something else. The interior of a starship set in one of the universes I created. An interior that has three normally-dressed males, one normally-dressed female, and one abnormally dressed madman that happens to be male. Oh, and waving some kind of glow stick at them.

Huh.

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the screen. I'm not sure why this is being brought to my attention – I get why Santa would want this kind of thing, he's a bloody creeper if you ask me, keeping tabs on everyone in this universe as to who's been naughty or nice. But this? Why would this interest me?

"Then get it back!" the madman yells, continuing the drama.

"If you kill us there is no way you can run this ship," one of the normal men says. Normal, as in, what the hell did they do to your mind, you poor sod? "You're getting further and further away from your precious drug."

And I'm getting further and further away from my precious sleep. I let out a yawn – I really shouldn't be doing this. It's Sunday. Day off, then back to creating another universe. I've had some great designs for the pattern of the cosmic background radiation – on sale, in case you're wondering.

But I keep watching all the same. The madman laughs. And I can't help but smile.

"There is no drug," he exclaims. "A simple compound. The disease is a mild poison that clears itself. But for centuries the followers have believed in the disease, believed in the cure just as you have believed."

Huh, I think. Scumbag.

"So you and those before you built your power on fear," the sane man says, his venom running through his voice. "And ruled them with it!"

Ah. I get it.

It's how the omni-viewer works. Worship, false gods, blah blah blah. At this point I'm past caring. Yeah, I went through my teenage phase at some point, demanding the whole "worship meh!" thing but now…well now, I should really disable the "false god alert" on this thing. Maybe I can finally get cable.

"I ruled!" the insane one yells. "I ruled a small prison planet with never more than five-hundred people. But with this…" He trails off, looking round the starship.

What does a god need with a starship anyway?

"With this…" he continues, "I could rule a thousand planets!"

I lean forward – this is getting interesting. Can't really strike down people in space with lightning or whatnot, but there's plenty of other ways the universes I create seem to want people dead.

"So for that prize," the man whispers, leering like a demon, "do you think I would hesitate to kill any of you?" He begins to walk backwards.

Wait, why are you doing that?

"Now take this ship back to Cygnus Alpha."

No, seriously, why? You've got them on the ropes, walking backwards is a sign of weakness.

"Now!"

The sane ones aren't buying it. They've got the right idea. Especially when the madman starts to go into 'god mode.' And no, I'm not talking about gaming here.

Besides, I only use god mode in RTS games. FPS ones are another story.

"I was their priest!" the lunatic screams. "I shall return to them…a godddddd!"

Man, he loves the letter d.

And the sane ones love irony. Because it's at that point that one of the crew presses a button, revealing that the priest has walked onto a teleport pad. One moment he's there, screaming "god." The next, he's out in space, screaming "god."

Huh. Guess you can hear people scream in space.

"Goddddddd!"

And then he blows up. The would be god has detonated. And all is silent. All that remains is me sitting on my bed.

Huh, I think to myself. I guess that's what you call a big bang theory.

A/N

So I've been watching season one of Blake's 7. And if there's one thing that's clear, it's that Brian Blessed can ham it up. :)