[ WP ] During a court case , one of the speakers uses the phrase `` As God is my witness '' . God shows up to testify .

God was n't one for entrances or appearances, the stenographer decided. He was an old stoop-backed man dressed like unemployed Zeus caught between a foreclosure and divorce. Both beard and hair were long, shabby and grey, weathered as his grimy face. A walking stick aided his approach to the stand, gnarled as his crooked fingers and knobby as swollen knuckles. 
 
 Despite the rather underwhelming return of the Almighty, a hush fell over the courtroom. 
 
 The Lord swore in post haste, though not without difficulty. Vows of truthfulness to a Higher Power fall flat when the Higher Power Itself is making them. God took quite a bit of glee in this, insisting that if He caught Himself lying then He would be sure to give Himself a stern talking to when He died. Panic spread quickly at the possibility of God's death, though He put the troubled murmurs to rest with a few audible cracks his cane-turned-gavel. 
 
 And then the trial resumed. Mostly. Neither prosecution or defense were thrilled with the idea, knowing full well what devilish stereotypes they would reinforce by the proper course of their duties. Both spoke to such effect, as the stenographer recorded. 
 
 Cross examination proved even more difficult, since it meant suggesting the fallibility of the infallible. God proved no help in this matter, either, preferring to answer questions with cryptic parables and vague challenges to the integrity of the system itself. At one point a lawyer raised an objection to leading questions, but no one was quite sure if the Almighty *could* be lead. 
 
 Eventually the Judge suggested, stated as a request of course, that perhaps God would like to do away with all this trial and judge the suspect Himself. At that God was silent for a long time. 
 
 `` Oh, yes. Certainly. But not today. You'll all have your day in court, do n't worry.'' 
 
 Then He smiled a cryptic smile and excused Himself from the stand. 
 
 During a hastily called recess, the occupants of the courthouse exchanged stories. To some He appeared as Jesus Christ, but to others He was Allah in the flesh. Some said He was followed by an entourage of animals and flowers bloomed where He walked. Others still said He was completely indescribable, an amalgamation of raw energy and light and knowledge given form. In some tellings, He arrived in a Stormcloud and with a flash of lightning. All stories, however, lead to the same climax: God made them intensely uncomfortable. 
 
 When the trial resumed they did not call God back to the stand, nor did He make another appearance. 
 
 Debate erupted, as it often does in religious and legal matters alike, over what was the *truth*. Furthermore, what should be done about it? Two sides emerged: Those who wanted to publish the tale, and those who wanted to remain silent. Members of the former portrayed the event as a modern day burning bush, the next Ten Commandments, and painted themselves as 21st century prophets. Conversely, the latter said that talking like that would spark a holy war at best. 
 
 Small conflicts broke out at first. One man would scream obscenities at the other, who would scream obscenities back. Words turned to fists. Chairs flew through the air as the two factions sought to bludgeon each other in the most morally upright way possible. When someone went for the bailiff's firearm, all hell broke loose. When the police arrived to disperse the mob, someone had even started a fire by the stenographer's desk. 
 
 In the end, consistent record of the event could be found, and the entire thing was declared mass hysteria. A product of the summer heat. Even the stenographer's records had somehow vanished.
