The Man Who Sued God Page #2

- My skirt!

- I'm very sorry.

I didn't mean anything with that.

Can I buy you some... so sorry.

- Just piss off.

- Alright. I'm going.

I haven't even eaten anything.

I'm bloody starving.

'Scuse me, I'm sorry.

One night,

a seed of humanity was planted when a family

of chimpanzees decided to sit around the fire.

They started cooking on it, having

friends over, talking into the night,

they learned reason and manners.

Restaurants are directly descended

from that first gathering.

But the animal that entered my

favourite eating place yesterday

would not have been tolerated

even by those old chimps.

Drunk, stinking and abusive he proceeded to

disturb not only mine... oh my god, this gets worse.

It looks like you've made a friend there.

And I'm not going to help.

Couldn't say it very clear, huh?

This is just another one of

your little stunts, isn't it?

You dig a hole, everybody else falls in,

and you walk away feeling superior.

Not me, pal. Not this time.

- Good morning, The National.

- Anna Redmond, please.

She writes a column at your paper, remember?

Hi, this is Anna Redmond.

I can't come to the phone right now.

Do you know that experiments

on rats have shown that

they recognize the truth far more

quicker than journalists?

And with a wee bit of training a squid will

demonstrate a deeper grasp of moral principles.

You were only doing your job, and you didn't

know you were going to turn out to be a petty assassin.

You really wanted to be a nurse in Africa,

but you failed the medical.

I'm sure you're not there. You're probably

away giving the kiss of life to some f***ing panda.

The fact is, modern journalism sucks.

Does it? I'm not so sure.

Of course it does. You told me it does.

That was before you became editor.

Look at this. Some little twerp three weeks out

of high school telling the world what he thinks.

It's all opinion and narcissism.

What's happened to reporting?

Three years ago I used to report,

I used to write stories.

- I was in Washington, Moscow, Beijing.

- You stuffed up Moscow.

I had food poisoning, I missed the coup.

Do you think that makes me feel good?

The fact is I was writing stories.

Where am I now?

I'm on talkback radio, writing columns.

Is that the column?

Yes.

It's not journalism.

It looks like it, but it's not.

- You're a woman of influence.

- I'm a woman of attitude.

- You know what your trouble is?

- Being patronised? Being asked rhetorical questions?

You're very exciting when you're like this.

- I don't know why we haven't slept together.

- I do.

The reporter. Report. Go after a story,

I'm not going to stop you.

- Really?

- Yes.

- So we skip the column?

- No.

- You still want the column?

- Yes.

Bugger them.

You really wanted to be a nurse in Africa,

but you failed the medical.

I'm sure you're not there. You're probably

away giving the kiss of life to some f***ing panda.

Do you think I've done

the right thing, Arthur?

I hope you're right.

There he is.

- How did it go up in town?

- Kicked buttock.

- Are they going to pay?

- They're not inclined to paying at this stage.

- What is that supposed to mean?

- It means I have re-registered.

You are not going to sue.

You're going to sue one of the

world's biggest insurance companies?

Apparently I wouldn't stand a chance.

I'm suing God.

I've sent writs on

his most prominent representatives.

We've got this fisherman issuing writs against

the churches. I'm not particularly religious,

but I've got a pretty good nose

for what's right and decent.

And I can smell an idiot a mile off.

It stinks.

Now it's time for our weekly chat

with Anna Redmond.

- Good morning, Anna.

- Good morning, Dirk.

What about this character suing God?

- It's a summons?

- That's the gist of it.

- It's not a prank?

- No.

- Some religious fanatic, I suppose.

- Something of that order, probably.

Leave it with me, Your Eminence.

Sometimes I don't know what

the world's coming to.

- Should you admit to that in your position?

- I'll try and keep it under my hat.

- What's your advise?

- Don't sell. It's still a bull market.

- What do you think?

- Let me look at it first.

There's a lot of very strange

people out there.

It's a stunt for money.

That's my view, but I could be wrong.

I wouldn't go that far, Dirk.

The insurance companies have been using

the 'Act of God' clause for at least 400 years.

- So it's stood the test of time.

- Regardless of profound shifts in theological debates,

social and political changes,

and man's effect on the environment.

Intellectually speaking

it's sort of a 'woolly mammoth'.

- A 'woolly mammoth'? I don't follow.

- Don't you?

- The mammoth died out.

- I know that, Anna.

Never mind. The insurance companies

have been under a lot of pressure lately...

As far as I'm concerned

it's a one-day-wonder.

- For once I agree with you, David.

- A wilful, egomaniacal idiot.

But David, it is Steve.

He leaves a stain on the couch and bolts.

- Absolutely.

- You know he won't go through with it.

Christ Almighty!

I'll tell you what, Arthur.

It was a great idea coming down here.

Not many dogs have ideas as good as that.

- Hi. Caught any fish?

- Nah, just seagulls, tiger snakes, that sort of thing.

- Do you know someone called Steve Myers?

- Yes. Big Irish guy. Crutches.

- He's over there.

- Great. Thanks.

- Mr. Myers?

- No, not me. Got the wrong guy.

- I know you.

- No, no. Somebody else.

You're the guy from the restaurant.

I'm just a tourist from New Zealand,

I'm here on holiday.

I'm sorry you didn't like what I wrote.

I didn't like being knocked over.

What do you want me to do?

Jump in the ocean and drown?

I don't want you to do it.

Don't you want to talk to them?

Why don't you want to talk to them?

I don't want those people

crawling all over my family.

- You're gonna have to sooner or later.

- Go away and take your friends with you.

- Leave me alone and bugger off.

- You're better off talking to me.

- You? I don't think so.

- Wait.

Hurry up, there.

Come on, Arthur.

Come on.

Quick.

Will you behave yourself!

You're not a dog.

Help me.

Look at the way you're rocking

the boat. Crazy person.

Stop the boat.

Towel?

Thanks for the help.

Give him a good rub and be careful

with the ears. They're very delicate.

- Tell me again, what did you agree with her?

- I didn't agree to anything with her.

She wants an exclusive.

She holds the rest of them an arm's length,

wines and dines you, then writes a three page

colour feature showing you up as a complete moron.

Remind me, you've been

a media-expert for how long?

I read, I watch TV.

I live in the real world.

Oh, I see, the real world.

It makes sense now.

You know what I mean.

- Are you going to be famous, Dad?

- A famous idiot.

She loves me.

Since issuing the writs Mr. Myers has remained silent,

but the Anglican church has been quick to react.

A zealot of some description, most likely.

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