“O Lord, accept these, our offerings to you.” The young couple, already firm acolytes of the faith, bowed before the god who smiled upon them, pudgy cheeks glowing.
He picked over the array, finally selecting a single token sock with his long, long chopsticks. He gestured; the rest they could keep for themselves.
The temple door jingled open and a newcomer entered. Rough. Untutored in the Way. He ignored the god, moving straight to the washing machines. The god’s smile faded and his worshippers quivered at his wrath. The heathen would be lucky to escape with even one shirt untorn.
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