MESSIER 74 GALAXY—Recoiling in pain after the gravitational vortex tore off a chunk of flesh and bone down to the first knuckle, God, Our Lord and Heavenly Father, reportedly lost the tip of His right index finger Monday in an accident involving an intermediate-mass black hole. “Ah, son of a bitch—Christ, that hurt like a motherfucker,” said the Divine Creator, who sucked blood from the mangled stump as He chastised Himself for not paying closer attention to what He was doing while building a new spiral galaxy. “I knew I should have shut that thing down eons ago. Oh well, the tip of my finger is in there now, so no use trying to get it back. Dammit, now there’s blood all over the universe.” The Lord then wrapped His finger in an excess piece of robe and went off in search of a neutron star to cauterize the wound.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. William Shakespeare From The Tempest, Act 4 Scene 1