This is Gawd – the Jesii’s Dad. I know You haven’t spoken to Them, and vice versa, for quite a while. I’m not writing to open up old wounds or to point fingers. I will, for the moment, forget that You started a vicious rumor that My boys were fathered by person or persons unknown. I have always been a forgiving Gawd, unlike some former roommates of Mine I could mention. Believe Me, the fact that said roommate shamelessly stole a great deal of His shtick from Me is water under the bridge. Truly, none of that even crosses My mind on a daily basis.
The reason I am writing is simply, (Your atrocious behavior notwithstanding), that We figures of myth and legend must stick together on some level. Sure, You and My boys have had Your differences. Your youthful hijinks; Your Jihads and Crusades. But I like to think that when the chips are down, We’re really the same… even if Your boss, Allah, is the most hacktacular, hacktistic hack in hackdom, who rode My coattails into The Deity Club. Which is all in the past, so don’t give it another thought. As I say, the reason I am writing is to warn You that You may need to get out of town. Like so many deities and companions of deities these days, I know that you spend a lot of time in the United States.
Therein lies Your problem. They have this thing in the States called “Megan’s Law”. Some of them get kind of bent out of shape when You poke little girls. Now, the Old Boy network went into action and got this “Jewel of Medina” book cancelled with the old “Be Afraid” tactic. (By the way, You should write a Thank You note to Phobos and Deimos, gods of fear and terror, respectively.) However, as is so often the case when someone writes one of these tell-all books, word has leaked. It is possible that You may be brought up on charges, especially with a national election looming. Even Missouri or South Carolina, where the age of consent is 16, may not be safe for You. I would suggest getting out of the country altogether. I hear the age of consent in Tonga is 12, but it never came up in conversation when I vacationed there, so I can’t be sure.
In any case, as Shakespeare might have said, let not Your going wait upon Your getting the hell out while the getting is good. Whatever You do, please don’t think that My boys have in any way won some kind of contest between You. Believe Me, that thought has not even crossed Their minds. No contest even exists for Them to win. So I beg You, don’t let It gnaw at you on the long flight to Tonga, or wherever You may decide to retreat to.
Remember, We’re all just one big, happy family… even if some of Us shtupp little girls.
Wish You Were Here,