LogFAQs > #930110506

"You don't seem to care about any of the prayers you're answering. You're just mindlessly granting all of them. And if you want to keep enjoying the perks of paradise - which for you seems to be combining creatures of the sea with things that are red - you need to start taking this seriously," he informs you.
Your mind drifts to the forty red jello shots you've centered clams inside of sitting in your fridge at home, and how painful it would be to lose them. "I... I am taking this seriously."
"Do you know what the first rule of heaven is?" Gabriel challenges you. "The point we hammered home at orientation."
"Keep it holy, baby," you reply immediately with the confidence of an angel actually had attended orientation.
"No, that's-" Gabriel trails off as he scribbles in his notebook. "That's not it."
"You writing that down?" you ask with a sly smile.
"No," Gabriel lies. "The first rule is that you need to treat the prayers you receive with compassion and respect. Thoroughly vet your prayers before granting them. Do you know how many prayers an angel needs to grant before they are free to retire and enjoy heaven without the 9 to 5?"
You bite your lip and resist the urge to say 666. You timidly shake your head.
"7,836," Gabriel says sternly.
"Jesus fucking Christ, that's so many," you rub your thighs stressfully.
"You literally have eternity to do it," Gabriel sasses you."But hey, don't worry. You've already granted 7,835."
You clap your hands together triumphantly. "Holy shit, look at me go," you laugh.
"Yeah, look at you go," Gabriel repeats, but without the pizzaz you brought to the room. "You've been here for two months and have almost finished your quota. Kathy, however, has been here for almost three hundred years and still about two thousands prayers away."
"I could talk to her, maybe. Give her some pointers," you offer.
"Kathy is cementing her place in paradise by granting divine intervention to those who truly need it," Gabriel lectures you. "She takes her time and goes over each case detail by minuscule detail. You blindly clicked your way to the finish line. You wanna look at some of your greatest hits?"
"Lay 'em on me," you lean back in your chair.
Gabriel cracks open a manila envelope. "Thomas F. prayed he'd find his cell phone, which you granted. He immediately realized his cell phone was in his pocket the entire time."
"Yeah 'cause I put it there," you argue.
"No, you didn't!" Gabriel shouts. "It was always there and he would have found it anyway within fifteen seconds of you granting his prayer."
"That's fifteen seconds back in his pocket though," you point out.
"Well he used those fifteen seconds to photograph his penis and send it to an undercover cop."
"I bet that cop was really praying for a bust," you try to pivot.
"Speaking of bust," Gabriel segues as he flips a page, "There was a married couple in Pensacola, Florida who were having intercourse. The wife prayed that her husband would just hurry up and finish already, while the husband prayed that he would last longer. You granted them both simultaneously."
"It was God's will," you throw a hail mary.
"It decidedly was not. The husband nutted, then his penis made a gasping noise, and sucked it all back up. This terrified the living shit out of the both of them," Gabriel informs you.
You put both hands on the top of your head, mortified. "It went back in?"
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.