Author: Colin Jeffrey

The newly-created Department of Temporal Dysfunction hummed with bureaucratic indifference as a voice called out across the waiting room: “Number forty-seven!”

“That’s you,” the Seraphim sitting next to Quetzalcoatl said, pointing to his ticket. “You’re forty seven.”

Quetzalcoatl stood up, brushed back his resplendent feathers, and followed the caller through to an interview room.

“So, mister Quetzalcoatl,” she said opening his file. “I am your consultant, Bertha Glump,” she flashed a perfunctory smile at him. “I see that enroute to your prophesied return from the east in the year of the reed, you were knocked out of your timeline. Is that correct?”

“I am Quetzalcoatl, supreme creator, god of wind and rain,” he replied, unable to fathom his situation. “I demand that you allow me to continue on my journey, or I will smite thee.”

“Now, mister Quetzalcoatl,” Glump said, pointing to a sign on the wall. “You must know that we do not tolerate any threats of smiting, sacrifice, devastation, or eternal damnation. Do you understand?”

Quetzalcoatl did not understand.

“You command me, mortal?” He waved his hands in the air, chanted. A thunder cloud appeared over Glump’s head, accompanied by a growing wind. As he directed lightning to strike, Glump pushed a button on the table. Quetzalcoatl’s summoned weather dissipated.

“Mister Quetzalcoatl,” said Glump angrily, as she waved away the remnants of a cloud. “This is unacceptable. This interview is terminated.”

Two guards entered the room, shackled Quetzalcoatl, led him away to a cell.

“Whaddya In for?” a voice in the corner of the cell asked.

Quetzalcoatl detected the presence of another supreme being. “Lost. Tried to smite someone,” he replied.

“Hermes,” said the other. “Delivery issues,” he shook his head. “Long story.”

“When I am released,” fumed Quetzalcoatl, “I will destroy them all.”

Hermes leaned forward. “Yeah, doesn’t work that way,” he grinned. “You see, without the humans, there would be no one to worship us.”

Quetzalcoatl pondered this.

“And I’m sure as Tartarus not going to worship anyone,” said Hermes. Thunder rumbled across the room. “Except you, Dad. Sorry, I mean Zeus, sorry.”

“What would become of us without human worship?” Continued Hermes. “We are, after all, gods only to the mortals. Without them, we are nothing.”

There is truth in his musings, thought Quetzalcoatl.

Several hours passed, the door opened. “Number forty-seven, your review has concluded.”

Back with Glump, her tone apologetic.

“Mister…sorry…Lord Quetzalcoatl, I beg your forgiveness,” She fell to her knees. “We…us…humans need your help.”

“My help?” Quetzalcoatl boomed,”After you… Confined me?”

Glump nodded her head furiously. “Yes, oh Great Quetzalcoatl. We are so very sorry. Really. But since your…accident, the weather has become unstable. Tremendous storms are enveloping the world, gale force winds are literally tearing the earth apart. Our temporal physicists believe your absence has created a significant anomaly, affecting the very elements you command.”

Quetzalcoatl stroked his feathered beard, Hermes words echoing in his mind. “So, you need me because the fragile balance of your world tilts without me.” He said, letting out a laugh. “Very well, mortal. Release me. I shall consider repairing this disruption. But understand this: my temper, like the winds, can turn fierce. Do not disrespect me again.”

Glump bowed deeply, fumbled for a button on her desk. “Guards! Escort his Eminence the Lord Quetzalcoatl back to the time stream. Quickly! And with the utmost respect!”

As Quetzalcoatl swept out of the room, an earth tremor shook the building. Glump shouted into the intercom. “Priority – release all deities immediately and issue all a grovelling apology. Quickly!”

The Department of Temporal Dysfunction was clearly out of its depth.