Hakkurra, the God of Nothing, spills milk accidentally in the supermarket, upsetting Manyeta’s child. Manyeta is the God of Shiny Things.
“How’s goes it Hakkurra? Spilling milk again?”
“When did I last spill milk, Manyeta? Mind your own damn business.”
A little snot comes out of Manyeta’s child, Twaquala.
“Now look what you’ve done to Twaqqie, always with that anger. You should see a shrink. You’ve nothing to lose.”
“I’m cleaning up milk here and your making jokes. Go bother Denneal over there. He’s only comparing cheese prices.”
Denneal is the God of rubbery things.
“Him? All he does is whine about his sex life. Poor Denneal. His job belongs to a woman but his mother only had boys. My Twaqqie however will grow up big and strong like his father.”
His father is Prowhoo, the God of Things Heard.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you this Manyeta, seeing as you have the eyes of a mother…”
“What is it, Hakkurra?”
“Well, I’ve never heard Twaquala make a peep. He’s crying right now but not a sound.”
“The doctor says it’s only natural for kids his age to be silent. And I’m thankful for it. Believe me. Do you have any children Hakkurra?”
“No Manyeta, but…”
“There, what would you know? My Twaquala owns the future.”
“I heard that.”
“Oh, Furnunun, how are you? And you wife?”
Furnunun is the God of Things Yet To Happen.
“Aurrots put to bed, bless her, with sick of some sort. A chesty thing, says Doc. Can’t remember the exact term…”
“Yes Hakkurra, I believe that was it. Cold. You spill something there?”
“Aren’t I mopping it up?”
“You should calm down friend. You’ve nothing to lose.”
“Very good Furnunun, I made a similar joke earlier.”
“The exact same joke, Manyeta. And your baby's still upset.”
“Oh, I thought he stopped. It’s difficult to tell.”
“Oh Manyeta, the Doc was saying your child has some problems. He said, what did he say… oh, to keep it between him and me… that’s what it was.”
“Furnunun, I swear, you’re mind isn’t fit to be in a skull.”
“Uh. Where should it be?”
“Oh Jesus, under foot or something.”
“Hakkurra, I think you’re upsetting Twaqqie with that attitude.”
“Look, nice meeting you Manyeta, Furnunun, but I have to go. Lots to do.”
“You have nothing to do, are you serious?”
“Very good Furnunun. Again you got him.”
“Oh, you motherfuckers.”
Hakkurra leaves the supermarket, throwing his basket of groceries into a corner.
“What did I say, Manyeta?”
“Never mind, Furnunun."