"Right, Skarpers. All sorted."

"What's that, mate?"

"My prophet. She's locked and loaded and no doubt spreading the word as we speak."

"Right. So, no more dodgy religions?"

"Nope."

"No more dubious cults?"

"Nuh."

"No more fallacious belief systems?"

"Not a one."

"And, I guess, in that case...no more wars?"

"Damn straight. The tide of truth, the glow of enlightenment, is about to wash across the world, sweeping ignorance and prejudice away, bringing peace and harmony to all. Sorry, Skarpers—you'll have to find your entertainment somewhere else. Maybe it's time to go and have another crack at your universe?"

"Yeah, you might be right. I've picked up a few tips, after all. Tell you what, I'll stick around long enough to see this prophet of yours in action, and then if things get seriously peaceful and dull, I'll head off—Skarpers will scarper."

"Well, in that case, nice knowing you. Because it's going to be peace and goodwill all the way around here."

~~~~

"Hey, better lay off the blasphemy, Jules. The Sky Cow won't like it."

"Sky Cow? Pfft. That's the whole point, Bovvo, you mouldy-faced son of a stink-rat. There is no Sky Cow. That's all a steaming pile of manure. There's just Am."

"Yeah, right. You expect me to believe some disembodied voice created the universe? Oh, puh-lease. How's that even possible? At least the Sky Cow story makes sense."

"Am is not only a voice, stupid. That's just the way it manifested itself. It's actually a transcendent entity, who is ancient and all-powerful and om...omni...omnivorous."

"Omnivorous? Ha! I just had a bacon and lettuce sandwich, but you don't hear me claiming to have made the universe."

"Yeah, well, given your mum made the sandwich, I'm not surprised. You can't even make lunch. Not like Am, who made absolutely everything. It told me all about it. Turns out it created the whole universe from this little, tiny, incy-wincy speck that exploded and became all the stars and planets and people and cheese and stuff. Cool, huh?"

"A little speck? Lay off the yoghurt, Jules. If a little speck exploded—popped, more like—stands to reason all you're gonna get is smaller specks. You calling me a speck?"

"Well, obviously it must have been a magic speck, moron. D'uh. Clearly the only speck around here is your brain."

"What? Just you come over here and say that."

"Oh, I will, don't worry. And see this fist? I'm bringing it with me."

~~~~

"Uh, Am?"

"Yeah, yeah, I see it. Not a bloody word."

"But, it's just—"

"I know, I know. The good word is perhaps not disseminating quite as smoothly as I could have wished."

"Maybe you didn't explain it well enough?"

"Oh, I explained it perfectly well, thanks very much. No, the problem is with those tiny brains of theirs. It seems they're even more rubbish than I thought. How they manage to walk and breathe at the same time, never mind finding the mental capacity to make up entirely fictitious and unworthy deities to worship, I have no idea. I suppose I shouldn't expect too much from over-evolved pond scum."

"I guess not. You must be bummed they're not worshipping you, though."

"What? No, of course not I'm not. Enigmatic and unknowable suit me just fine. I don't need any credit. In fact, given the way that lot have turned out, I'm not sure I'd even want it."

"Fair enough. So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything. Things have gotten off to a rocky start but I'm sure, given time—pea-brains notwithstanding—the truth will win out in the end. I'm just gonna sit tight and let them sort it out."

"You sure, mate? Things look to be getting pretty heated down there."

"Yes, yes. Besides, if I go sticking my metaphysical nose in every time they have a disagreement, they'll never learn to think for themselves, will they? I've planted the seed, now it's up to them to help it grow."

"If you say so. Hey, looks like your prophet has gathered quite the following."

"So she has. See? That's got to be a good sign. And she's about to address the masses."

"Oh, yeah. Wonder what's she's gonna say?"

"Well, if you shut your celestial trap for five minutes, maybe we'll find out."

~~~~

"Hello, people of Mhou-Nebo. Greetings, fellow seekers of the truth. Thank you for joining me here in the village square on this beautiful day. And for not joining that absolute tosser Bovvo, and his mob of milk-addled cow-gazers over in the inn. Today I will reveal further truths expounded to me by the mighty Am and—"

"'Scuse me."

"Er, yes? You in the lilac robe—you have a question?"

"Yeah. I wanna know what you're going to do about the speck situation."

"The what?"

"The speck situation."

"Uh...sorry, I'm not sure—"

"I mean, if this Am character of yours goes around blowing specks up into universes, then who's to say he's not going to do it again? And if he does, which speck it's gonna be? I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but there are a lot of specks around. You should see my floor by the end of the week. It's speck-city, love. And I don't know about you, but I don't want any random universes popping into existence in my living room. I just washed the curtains."

"No, no, that's not how it works. I'm sure it must take a special kind of speck to become a universe. The right kind."

"How do we know which is the right kind, then?"

"Well, Am knows. But don't worry, I'm sure the ones on your floor aren't the right kind."

"Not the right kind? Ooh, so that's how it is. My specks aren't good enough for you and your precious Am, I suppose? Charming. I've half a mind to head over to the inn. I hear Bovvo's mum has laid on sandwiches and everything."

"But—"

"Oi, Jules?"

"What is it now? Yes, the gentleman in the ripped britches over there—you have something to say?"

"Yeah, I was just wonderin' if you want me to give this silly duffer a bit of a clip over the earhole? Shut 'im up, like? After all, Am would approve, don't you reckon?"

"What? No, I don't—"

"A clip over the earhole? Why, I never. Just you try it, mate, and you'll be getting a clip where the sun don't shine, see if you don't."

"People, people, calm down, please. As the appointed prophet of Am, please believe me when I say the answer to our disagreements is the truth, not fighting. Violence is never the way. Trust me, I've tried it."

"Speak up! Can't hear a bloody thing down the back here. Here you, what'd she just say?"

"Dunno. I think it was something about how when you disagree then it's true violence is the way. And we should give it a try."

"C'mon off the curds, bud. I don't reckon Jules would say that."

"So, you're disagreeing with me then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon I am."

"Right. I guess in that case, you better cop a load of this."

"A load of wha—ow! You abtholute bathdard! You jutht broke by dose!"

"Yeah. Don't blame me, though."

"What the? Don't blame you? Who am I thuppothed to bloody well blame then?"

"Am, of course. It was its prophet who just told me to punch you in the face."