Meeting Minutes 6

We’ve got a chick flick to write! Over and out!

Les cardinaux Beauchamp et Richelieu (29 October 2020)

God: Good morning, everybody. Please, be seated. We are gathered here today to close out case number 4,022,785,102. Subject by the name of Florence Belleville. Peter, could you please read the final closing report?

Peter: I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.

God freezes in the action of pouring himself a cup of Krug Grande Cuvée Brut.

Peter: I’m terribly sorry, sir, but I don’t have it.

John: He doesn’t have it, sir.

God: Doesn’t have it?

Mark: That’s what he said, sir.

Peter: It’s Nancy, sir. She never put it in the vault.

God: Now why in hell would Nancy disobey an order? Pressing the call button on the phone: Nancy, get your ass in here!

Peter: You’re wasting your time, sir. She’s not in the office.

God: Not in the office?

Luke: Not in the office, sir.

Matthew: Gone, sir.

John: In Chopper Force One, sir.

Père Joseph Bertrand LeBoeuf (30 March 2021)

Mark: With Magdalena, sir.

God: Those blasted raunchy tramps!

Jesús: ¡Hijas de puta!

God: Two-bit whores!

Jesús: ¡Malditas chuchas!

God: Trolloping good-for-nothing slu…

Peter: Sir?

God: What is it, Peter?

Peter: Sir, there is an email. Matthew, can you please read the email?

Père Emmanuel Philibert Foucart (8 January 2021)

Matthew: Right away, Peter. Clearing his throat and reading from the email:

Magdalena A. Platz <>


Re: Your plan for Florence Belleville

“Hi Sir,

Just a quick note to say that Nancy and I looked ahead at the plan you and Peter wrote up for the subject Florence Belleville yesterday, and we happen to think it’s complete shit.”

Soeur Marie-Claudette des Bénédictions de l’adoration perpetuelle du Saint-Sulpice (8 November 2020)

Luke: They’re not wrong, sir.

John: I’d have to agree, sir.

Mark: Complete shit, sir.

Luke lifts his left buttock off the chair and makes a pretend fart noise with his mouth.

Matthew: Sir, there’s more. Shall I? God, nodding his head: By all means.

Matthew, reading from the email: “So we burned the file.”

Luke: We already checked into this, sir. What they did was a sin.

John: A terrible sin, sir.

Mark: Punishable by death, sir.

Luke: Shall we go after them with the stones, sir?

Jesús, moving to block the door: Él que de vosotros esté sin pecado sea el primero en arrojar la piedra contra ellas.

Dead silence and zero movement from the Apostles.

L’Evêque Anatole Dupuis des Augustines de l’Assomption (14 November 2020)

Matthew: There’s more, sir. Shall I?

God, nodding his head in approval: Of course.

Matthew, reading from the email:

“Please don’t be mad at us.


Nancy and Magdalena

p.s. When you are ready to write the new plan for Florence Belleville, we have an idea to run by you involving case number 4,766,203,445.

Luke: We already looked into this, sir. The subject is a thirty-seven-year-old Lebanese architect by the name of Antoine, alias Noni. Another defector, sir.

Matthew: But sexy as fuck, sir. Hairy. The manliest hands. Deep voice.

John: Also very manly, sir.

Mark: Sir, you just want to lick this guy up one side and down the other.

Luke: And then some, sir.

John: Sir, I would go further. I would eat him.

Mark: Me, too, come to think of it, sir.

Silence as God caresses his beard.

God: Good dresser?

John: You should see his shoe collection, sir.

God: Romantic?

Mark: Bleeding heart, sir.

God: Physically and emotionally available?

Luke: Soon to be, sir.

Long silence during which God caresses his beard.

Mère supérieure Marie-Marthe Desneiges (5 February 2021)

God: Thirty-five, you said?

Peter: Six, sir. Thirty-six.

Mark: And a few months, sir.

God: And the subject Florence Belleville is forty-…?

Peter: Four, sir. Forty-four.

Matthew: That’s right, sir. A cougar.

John, scratching at the air like a cat: Rowr.

Luke: Rowr, rowr.

Mark and Matthew: Rowr, rowr. Rowr.

God, to Peter: Rowr?

Peter: Rowr.

Somewhat long moment of silence as God caresses his beard.

Matthew: There’s more, sir. Would you like me to finish?

God, nodding his head in approval: Go ahead, Matthew.

p.p.s. You never told us that Chopper Force One has a liquor cabinet in it! We hope you won’t mind that we opened a few of the bottles! The Kors Vodka 24K George V Limited Edition is exquisite!

p.p.p.s Also, sir: love love loooooove Dick!

God: Dick?

John: Riccardo, sir.

God: Perfetto?

Mark: Your pilot, sir, that’s correct.

Luke: The Eye-talian Stallion, sir.

John: Sometimes referred to simply as The Stud, sir.

Matthew: It’s true what they say, sir.

Luke moves the pointer finger of his right hand in and out of the tunnel he has created with the thumb and fingers of his left hand.

God: That low-life treacherous swine!

Jesús: ¡Víbora!

God: Good for nothing rat!

Jesús: ¡Hijo de la chingada!

God: Worthless hound!

Jesús: ¡Pendejo!

God: Useless bastardly sku…

Peter: Sir?

God: Yes, Peter?

Peter: The subject Florence Belleville, sir?

God: Who?

Archevêque Ambroise Boniface dit “Le Sage” (30 December 2020)

Peter: Case number 4,022,785,102, sir.

God: What about it?

Peter: The closing report, sir. It’s been stolen.

Matthew: Stolen and burned, sir.

Mark: By Nancy and Magdalena, sir.

God: Now why in hell would they do that?

Peter: They didn’t like the plan we drafted, sir. They want to help write a new one involving case number 4,766,203,445, subject by the name of Antoine, alias Noni.

Long silence interrupted once by a burp from Luke, another time by a sneeze from Matthew, and twice by a phone pinging in the pocket of John’s frock.

God: Peter, son of John, do you love me?

Peter: Yes, sir, you know that I love you.

God: Peter, son of John, do you love me?

Peter: Yes, sir, you know that I love you.

God: Peter, son of John, do you love me?

Matthew, whispering to Peter: Is he going to do this all day?

Peter, elbowing Matthew in the ribs: Yes, sir, you know that I love you.

God: Then tell me what to do.

Peter: Write a new plan, sir. Immediately. With the help of the ladies.

Long silence during which God looks longingly at the bottle of Krug Grande Cuvée Brut.

God: All right, then. Peter. Get me them self-righteous bitches on the radio. And pronto.

Loud cheering from the Apostles.

Peter: Right away, sir. Mark, quick! The Transceiver Comtalk CT0-998!

Mark: With the Polycom Soundstation 2 EX LCP?

Peter: Pronto!

Mark runs from the room and returns with the walkie-talkie, a bunch of cords, and the conference phone, and sets it all up in front of God. All the Apostles gather around.

God, taking the walkie-talkie and yelling into it: God Control to Chopper Force One! God Control to Chopper Force One! Dick, do you read me? Over!

Riccardo: Reading, sir! Over!

God: Riccardo, get me them bitches on the radio! Over!

Riccardo: Wilco, sir!

Laughter and the sound of glasses clinking and chopper wings whirring, some radio fuzz and a click.

God: Nancy! Magdalena! You bitches read me? Over!

Them Bitches: Reading, sir! Over!

Sœur Marie-Agathe de la Sainte-Miséricorde (28 November 2020)

God: What do we have on this subject Antoine, alias Noni? Over!

Magdalena: Sexy as fuck, sir! Over!

God: We’ve established that! Over!

Nancy: The subject Antoine, alias Nonni, is currently residing in Tokyo, sir, but scheduled to set up residence in the city of Providence within the year! Over!

God, to the boys: Where in hell is Providence?

Mark: Beats me, sir.

Matthew: Never heard of it, sir.

Luke, consulting Google Maps on his phone: Rhode Island, sir. Three hours away, sir.

John: From Brooklyn, sir.

Mark: Three hours, sir.

Nancy: Details, sir! You’ll figure something out! Over!

Peter: You always do, sir.

God, yelling into the walkie-talkie: Wilco, Nancy! This subject Antoine, alias Noni, he’s gainfully employed? Over!

Nancy: Employed, sir! Gainfully, maybe not so much! Again, details, sir! Over!

God: How’s the 401K? Over!

Nancy: Non-existent, sir! Over!

Magdalena: But he’s got love, sir! Over!

Peter: True, sir. The guy’s got love.

John: A shit ton of it, sir.

Mark: Just looking to give it away, sir.

Peter: The subject Florence Belleville will believe she has walked into a dream, sir.

Les Archevêques Josephat Baduel d’Oustrac et Théodule Colrat de Montrozier (8 December 2020)

God, to the boys: Seriously? We’re just going to write another chick flick?

Matthew: Looks that way, sir.

John: I don’t know, sir, I kind of like a good chick flick.

Mark: Can’t say I disagree with John, sir.

Luke: Ditto, sir.

Peter: Why not, sir? There are worse things we could write.

God caresses his beard for a while. The sound of scratchy noises and chopper blades whirring coming from the walkie-talkie.

God: With wedding bells at the end?

All the Apostles: Oh yes, sir! Wedding bells, sir!

God: In an Alexander McQueen cream-colored hourglass dress with flounce hem and faux pearl detail across the shoulders?

Mark: Size small, sir.

God: And a new pair of Julia Bo Kent Oxfords with a cone heel that she can wear with other outfits for the rest of her life?

Matthew: Stunning, sir.

Père Francis Maillard de la Morandais (10 December 2020)

God caresses his beard for a while more. The sound of scratchy noises and chopper blades whirring coming from the walkie-talkie.

God, yelling into the walkie-talkie: Dick! Bring me them bitches immediately! We’ve got a chick flick to write! Over and out!

Loud cheering and clapping from the Apostles and them bitches.

Riccardo: Wilco, sir! Over and out!

God, to the Apostles: Go in peace, boys. Them bitches and I will take over from here.

All the Apostles: Praise and thanks to the Lord, our God! It is right to give him thanks and praise!

Matthew: Fin.

Luke: , Matthew. The n is silent.

Matthew: Fã.

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