[ WP ] You create custom-made worlds for a living . One day you created a masterpiece - and came to hate your client

`` It's garbage,'' the Demiurge said, staring balefully at the rotating world before it. 
 
 `` Garbage!'' gasped Sophia, raising her arms protectively around her child's work. `` It's beautiful!'' The seas sparkled with life, white clouds swirled in patterns above the planet's surface. As she brought her eye down low, she could see the grass growing on the plains, the snow-capped mountains, the vast deserts, all of them teeming with the intricate mechanisms of life. `` This might be the most beautiful thing you've ever created.'' 
 
 `` Oh, it is,'' the Demiurge said, shoving its tools aside. `` It's perfect.'' The Demiurge growled low in its throat. `` But you know what's going to happen to it?'' 
 
 Sophia looked up to her child. `` What?'' 
 
 `` The client's going to populate it!'' the Demiurge snarled. `` With his own creations! The whole thing-'' The Demiurge raked its claws across the top of the atmosphere, barely staying its hand. `` It's a terrarium for the client's pet projects. They're going to live there and feed off its bounty, they're going to reproduce, and use my world as they see fit - Argh!'' The Demiurge threw up its hands. `` They're going to ruin it, you know that? And the worst part of all is, it's part of the plan. It's intended. An entire precious world to be put at their disposal.'' 
 
 `` Well,'' Sophia said tentatively. `` You could always keep this one.'' She turned her eye to the collection of completed worlds. `` Give him another.'' 
 
 `` No, no,'' the Demiurge grumbled. `` This one's custom-made. None of the others would work for supporting his creations.'' It sighed. `` I knew this when I took the project on. I knew this would happen. I just did n't expect...'' 
 
 `` Then tell him no,'' Sophia said. 
 
 `` What? No, no, I ca n't -'' 
 
 `` Tell him no,'' she insisted. `` Tell him you're keeping this one. Tell him you'll make another.'' 
 
 `` No,'' the Demiurge sighed. `` It'd just turn out - That was my inspiration, to tell the truth. The client provided all the specifications. It - ugh, I hate to admit it, but it would n't have turned out half as good without him.'' The Demiurge stood up and pushed away from its workbench. `` That's what's so fucking infuriating about it.'' 
 
 Sophia stood silently, her skirt drifting across the floor as she swayed back and forth on her heels. `` You could n't convince him to, say, accept a lesser copy? You know? Convince him that his creations do n't require this level of craftsmanship, and would be fine - would be better suited, actually, with a cruder version?'' 
 
 The Demiurge raised an eyebrow. `` And how am I supposed to do that?'' 
 
 Sophia picked up a thin metal shaving from her child's workbench and curled it around her finger, watching it take the shape of a serpent, the sharp tip of its fangs drawing out a drop of blood, as red and tempting as an apple. `` Oh,'' she said. `` I think I have an idea.''
