I know why they picked me. Because I'm just a guy, and you're not going to powerplay God. Send the President, or the UN Secretary General, or the Pope, you done fucked up. But send me, and I'm going to get a little bit drunk and then get to it. So that's what I did. And it worked, or you wouldn't be reading this. Or you might be, but we may all be dead and this is what being dead is like. You wouldn't know really. Just because God said He would spare us, doesn't mean that He did.

That pisses people off most of the time. That I assume that God is capable of lying, but that really foregoes the obvious statement here that God was about to murder all of us. So you think that He would kill us all on a whim, but that he's straight with you all the time? Do you tell your dog the truth all the time? Honestly, to think that you have any idea of what God wants begins with the conceit that you have the capability to understand even small parts of how God thinks. Which is the conceit that you are in someway God-like. So what's more conceited: thinking that God could be a liar, or thinking that you know what God wants?

But to your question: What did I say to God? I'm not overly tactful in general. I just told him that I didn't want to die, and that many other people didn't want to die. So he shouldn't kill us. That was it really. I kind of assumed that no matter what I did that I would fail anyway, so there wasn't going to be a lot of effort put into this. I was kind of pissed in the first place that I had to do this because everyone else had the day off from work, it being the last day ever and all, but here I was schlepping back and forth to heaven on humanity's behalf. It worked out though. I haven't had to pay for a drink in a long time.

God doesn't talk, at all. It's fucking weird. Dude just looks at you like you look at the drunk guy at the party who is standing in front of the person you've actually come to see. But his angel, Jimbo, he talked to me and told me that God would spare humanity, but that God had one question. Why do so many kill themselves to escape living if they don't want to die?

And I couldn't help it, blame the booze or blame me. I don't really care. My eyes filled up and I yelled at Him, "Because you make life so fucking hard! You asshole! You make a world where our loved ones die, and cruelty is rewarded, and justice is a fleeting concept, and you don't know why escape is a viable option? How dare you even ask that?!" I started crying, and I didn't know why, but I know why now. I figured it out when I stopped going to church, though I'm sure He didn't notice that anyway.

I had just realized that God was so far beyond us, that He simply couldn't understand our concerns. God is so omnipotent that his understanding of our existence does not involve how we perceive its challenges and horrors. God is not capable of helping us, because He will never be able to realize that we need help. So yeah, He exists. I've met Him. He doesn't give a shit about you.