Grandiose fantasies

I’m in a twilight state when God and Satan present before me.

God appears rather charming and playful. He strokes his goatee repeatedly.

Satan, on the other hand, has assumed the form of a humorous and good-natured middle-aged gentleman; he has the smile of Robin Williams.

I greet them with a quizzical look.

“We’re not happy with you,” God says.

“What have I done again?”

I’m trying to remember my latest transgressions. Sadly, I can’t find any of importance. Apart from my trademark misanthropy.

But even that I keep under check when I’m obliged to interact with human beings.

“We’re not impressed by your lack of faith,” Satan continues.

I’m even more puzzled now.
“But I do have faith,” I exclaim.

“In what?
Do you believe in God?”
“Yes, in an abstract way.”
“You see?”
God nods.
“Do you believe in Satan?”
“Not really. I happily take all responsibility for my evil actions. Nobody made me do them.
And the demons that torture me, they’re of my own creation.”

Satan rolls his eyes.
“Such a solipsist. I bet you think nothing exists outside your head.”
“Sometimes, yes.
I’m not quite sure why I conjured you two, though.”

Their appearance is stereotypical but for a slight twist.
I’m not that imaginative after all.

“You are guilty of hubris.”
“I always suspected that.”
“And you won’t commit yourself to any of us.”
“I’m not too good with commitment. Never have been.
Fair enough.
I don’t believe much in anything.
Sometimes I doubt if I even believe in myself.”
“That’s more of an issue of confidence,” Satan winks at me.
I shrug.
“I think I can see what you’re getting at.
I’m almost always in between. I do my best not to take sides. I’m neither good nor evil.
Maybe I’m just. Maybe I’m just indifferent.”

“You are lukewarm.”
God is getting a bit harsh now.
I can’t blame him.
He seems like a nice fellow, anyway.

“You’re not even passionate enough to have fun without limitations,” Satan challenges me.
“You’re probably right.”

“What are we going to do with her? She’s impudent.”
C’mon, Satan, don’t lose your cool over me.
God knows better.
“What we have always done with her.
We’ll let her carry on. In limbo.”

They fade away slowly.

I’m totally awake now.
I realise that I’m in my bed in Villa Kirkegaard.

And I scream in anguish.

Note: This is all Luke Haines' fault. It began with Satan Wants Me (from Das Capital) for some reason.