Chapter 81: Beer

Michael set foaming glasses of beer in front of Marc, Joan, and Mokuba. He pulled up a chair and started sipping his own drink. Food floated out from the kitchen and settled on their table. Father John, Gertrude, George, and the bodyguards chattered at the next table over.

Joan glanced down at her beer and back up at Michael. "Man know Woman pregnant, right?"

"Woman know she Goddess, right?"

"Goddess not sure it work that way," Joan said.

"God drink for Goddess, then."

Joan sighed wistfully. "Go ahead." She slid the glass over to him through her power.

Michael took a long drink from Joan's glass and put it back down. "Male just put in his two weeks' notice."

"Oh?" Joan asked.

"When Boss-man saw what Male did with your orders in the kitchen, his eyes turned into dollar signs and he wanted to fire the rest of the staff. I told him I'd quit before taking anyone's job away, and obviously Male can find better work elsewhere, so the thing now is that everyone else get two weeks of paid vacation while Male use magic to do their work, and then Male outta here."

"Male good Male. His coworkers now our followers."

"Male didn't think of that, but maybe some of them put their faith in us now."

"Probably half the customers who walk in here will start following us, too," Mokuba said.

"I don't know about half," Marc said. "We didn't even keep half of the religious crowd."

"It's something," Joan said, "but will it be enough in the end? How many followers do we need to defeat Hera? What if we piss off other gods and goddesses along the way?"

"Woman, stop freaking out," Michael said.

Marc put a hand over Joan's. "We're not just one god but an entire pantheon. We can divide and conquer to gain followers, and then we'll stand together to fight when the final boss battle comes. Plus we have something that no gods before us have ever had."

"What's that?" Joan asked.

"The internet, of course."

Joan's eyebrows shot up. "I don't think we can call ourselves the first. Even if we could, other gods have had access to it for just as long as we have."

"Ah, but they are set in their ways. They're senile; they don't know how to take full advantage of it. We grew up with it. Your future husbands are technology gurus. We've got this."

"That's true," Mokuba chimed in.

Joan's head swam with possibilities. She needed to focus on one thing at a time. "So the internet will help us get more followers, but it can't solve all our problems, can it? What about Laura? Are you going to be all right spending eternity without her?"

Marc's breath caught in his throat. "I'll need time to answer that. What you said earlier made a difference, though. It helped me get more in touch with my feelings."

"That's good," Joan said.

"You say that, but how do you know it's a good thing?" Marc asked.

"Because I trust you. You can do anything you want with our power, and I know you won't abuse it."

"You mean like redecorating a church with penises?" Mokuba cut in.

Joan grinned. "Not just a church, our church. Besides, what better way to celebrate life than to draw attention to the organs that proliferate it?"

"Doesn't Japan have a penis festival?" Michael asked.

Mokuba rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah . . . I've never actually been to that."

Joan grabbed Mokuba in excitement. "Can we go? Can we? Please?"

"I don't actually know when the festival is, but we could visit the shrine anytime."

"Shrine? Yes, yes, yes!" Joan bounced in her seat. "We need to visit as many shrines as possible to get a better handle on this god thing. You're coming with me to Japan tomorrow, right?"

"I . . . wasn't planning on it. I mean, I caught up on work, but I was going to apply for building permits on our house."

"You got the land already?" Joan asked.

"Yes, that's all settled, and Marc's blueprints got redrawn by a licensed architect, so now we just need to get the plans approved and hire a general contractor."

"But we're gods," Michael said. "Can't we just build it ourselves and screw the permitting process? It's not like they can stop us."

"The gentleman has a point," Marc said. "We don't need permits, we don't need jobs, and I'm starting to think it would be easier on all of us if I quit Super Kaiba Megacorp and focused on building our home, on redecorating our church, and on leveling up our powers."

Mokuba's eyes bulged. "But . . ." He didn't see this coming, but under the circumstances, he couldn't blame Marc.

"You go ahead and take Joan to the penis shrine. I'll find a suitable replacement for myself. I won't leave Super Kaiba Megacorp until I do, but consider this my two weeks' notice."

"You're sure about this?" Mokuba asked.

"I have two weeks to change my mind. If Laura doesn't change hers by then, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to sit in an open office with her. I'll need a change of scenery."

Mokuba sighed. "You're right. It's just . . . it seems so wrong the way this all went down."

They all sat in silence for a moment before Michael downed the rest of his beer and excused himself from the table. He cleared empty plates and glasses from the other restaurant tables in one fell swoop, levitating them and sending them flying into the kitchen. The other restaurant patrons clapped their hands with delight.