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SETTING: A space so immaculately white it's almost insulting. There are no clouds, just endless tiles that gleam like a luxury bathroom. In the center, a 1970s Formica desk. Behind it, a guy in a leopard-print bathrobe, sipping a blue cocktail with a pink parasol. It's GOD.
Ruhollah Khomeini enters. He looks rumpled. His beard is full of cosmic dust, and he's adjusting his turban with the nervousness of a job interviewer who knows he lied on his resume.
GOD: (Without looking up from his "Hunting and Fishing" magazine) "Ah, there you are. Come in, sit down. Actually, no, stay standing, we'll save time. What's your name again? Ayatollah 'Sulky'?"
KHOMEINY: (In a sepulchral voice, raising his hands to the sky) “O Creator! O Merciful One! I prostrate myself before Your splendor! I have led Your people on the path of purity, I have eradicated vice from Persia, I have restored divine order on Earth!”
GOD: (He drops his magazine and sighs loudly) “Oh, for fuck’s sake, another one. Listen, Ruhollah—can I call you Ru-ru?—we’re going to clear something up right now. The prayers, the bowing, the five times a day, all that… it was a misunderstanding. A massive celestial spam. I turned off the notifications in the year 400. It was too noisy for my naps.”
KHOMEINY: (Blissfully confused) “But… the Revolution? The Great Satan? The sacred laws?”
GOD: (Smiling with all his white teeth) "You're talking about your shitty laws? Here, look."
God snaps his fingers. A giant plasma screen descends from the void. Images flash by: people hanging from cranes, women whipped for a stray hair, kids sent to clear mines from the front lines with plastic keys around their necks.
GOD: "What's with this atmosphere, Ru-ru? You've turned a beautiful country into a giant episode of The Walking Dead, theocratic version. And that thing there, on page 450 of your book... 'marriage' to nine-year-old girls? Can you explain the concept to me?"
KHOMEINY: (Sweating under his turban) "It was to preserve virtue! The Prophet's law allowed for the guidance of souls from the youngest age..."
GOD: "Stop. Stop." Are you trying to explain to the guy who invented quantum physics and sexual pleasure that pedophilia is a "security measure"? Are you serious? You just legalized your disgusting old man's urges by slapping my name on the label. It's plagiarism, and besides, it's ugly.
KHOMEINY: "But I fought against the decadent West! I banned music, dancing, joy!"
GOD: "And that's precisely the problem!" (God stands up, furious.) "I created birds to sing, I created hips to swing, and I created wine—which is delicious, by the way. And you come along, you put a black veil over everything, you kill poets, and you turn existence into a perpetual funeral. Do you know who I love?"
KHOMEINY: "The martyrs?"
GOD: "No. The atheists."
KHOMEINY: (Almost choking) "The... the unbelievers? Those who deny Your existence?"
GOD: "Yeah, right! At least they do good because they're nice, not because they're afraid some imaginary bearded guy will roast them in an eternal barbecue. They don't kill anyone while shouting my name. They drink beer, they read science books, and they don't wonder if their underwear is "compliant" before they pee. They're relaxing. You're exhausting. You've spent your life lying."
KHOMEINY: "I never lied! Every word was for the Truth!"
GOD: "Oh, have mercy." "I don't want power," you said in Neauphle-le-Château. "I'll be a simple spiritual guide." The moment you set foot in Tehran, you decapitated your allies and installed a dictatorship that would make a nightclub bouncer look like an altar boy. You lied about God, you lied about humanity, you even lied about the color of your beard—I'm sure you dyed it with shoe polish or some other crap.
KHOMEINY: (He falls to his knees, playing his last card) "But Paradise... You promised it to the faithful!"
GOD: "Paradise? Ah, you mean the VIP area. Come on, I'll show you where we keep 'Great Men' like you."
God grabs Khomeini by the collar of his robe. The scene changes instantly. The pristine white becomes a dark, damp red, with a lingering smell of sulfur and a sports locker room after a football match. Low-grade techno music loops at an unbearable volume.
In a vast mass grave, historical figures are lined up, bent forward, hands on their knees.
GOD: “Look. Over there is Stalin. He’s trying to count his victims but he loses count every ten million. Next to him is Hitler; they’ve shaved off his mustache, he looks like a depressed accountant. Oh, and there’s Pol Pot, trying to wear glasses but they keep melting.”
KHOMEINI: (Horrified): “Why are they in this position?”
GOD: “Because it’s time for ‘Poetic Justice.’” You see, Ru-ru, you've spent your life wanting to invade people's privacy, ruling their asses, telling them how to wipe their holes and who to love. So, I decided that eternity would be one big lesson in reverse anatomy. Sodomy for eternity.
A colossal demon, strangely resembling a nightclub bouncer with a titanium dildo the size of a rocket, approaches, cracking his knuckles.
GOD: "Come on, hop! Go join your buddies. Guevara's right here, complaining that it's not 'egalitarian' enough, but he's taking his cut like everyone else. Mussolini's bridging the gap behind him."
KHOMEINY: "No! That's a mistake! I'm a Saint! I'm the Imam!" “
GOD: “No, you’re just an old guy who’s ruined the lives of millions of people to compensate for a misplaced libido. Now get to work. And don’t grit your teeth too much, this is going to take a while.”
God kicks the Ayatollah in the ass, sending him tumbling into the pit.
GOD: (Resuming his cocktail) “Ah… I’m going to go see if the atheists have finished preparing the barbecue. They have a recipe for pork ribs, it’s amazing. Too bad for Ru-ru, he’s going to miss it. Well, he’ll have other things to ‘digest,’ but on the other side.”
In the distance, a piercing scream is heard, followed by the sound of an industrial drill and a sardonic laugh that whispers: “Welcome to the club, comrade… shall we start at the top or the bottom?”
GOD: (Addressing the spectators) “Want me to show you what I did to Napoleon?” It's even funnier, he's forced to do the housework in a thong with a peacock feather.
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