[ WP ] the old Testament God was replaced by a galactic council due to his extreme methods . The newly hired `` New Testament '' God soon took over . However , due to the dwindling belief on earth in the wake of scientific revelations , the council fired God and you have been chosen to interview .

I sat in the chair idly, thumbing through my resume as I awaited my interview for the new position. I was told it was of considerable power - which, of course, means it's unstable but also comes with great benefits - and that they'd been going through several men beforehand. No matter, I would be different. 
 
 A man popped his head into the room and nodded at me to come in. 
 
 `` Conference Room Six, if you please.'' 
 
 I smiled at him and strode past into the long, rather dreary hallway. The Council could do with a bit of color in their workplace every now and then - no wonder the previous guys had gone crazy. 
 
 Conference Room Six's door stood in front of me. I sighed to myself and pushed gently on it, revealing my interviewer. 
 
 I must say, she was rather disarming. 
 
 She was short, a good head shorter than me at least. Her face was soft and reminded me of an old friend rather than a stingy sapient resources assistant. I was taken aback by her demeanor. 
 
 `` Please,'' she smiled, `` Sit down. Would you like a cup of ambrosia?'' 
 
 I shook my head. What was her angle here? 
 
 `` Alright, no need to put it off, then,'' she pulled a folder from within her plain, black desk, `` You were recommended to this post by the previous two Gods.'' 
 
 The God post. My eyes lit up - the most prestigious post in the entire galaxy was being offered to me. I raised an eyebrow. 
 
 `` You're sure he asked for *me*?'' I chewed my lip for a moment, `` We did n't see eye to eye.'' 
 
 `` Yes,'' she opened the manilla folder and handed me the request sheets, one signed *Yahweh*, the other signed *Jehovah*, `` He said you always aimed to impress.'' 
 
 I nodded cautiously. What was the old fool up to? 
 
 `` Let's go through your previous positions,'' she kept that ever-cool tone as she leafed through a stack of what appeared to be resume papers, `` You began working beneath the first God, no?'' 
 
 `` Yes, as an assistant,'' I coughed and straightened myself out, `` He fired me after a bit of trouble with values.'' 
 
 `` Values?'' she pulled out a faded yellow paper and sleek, silver pen, `` What sort of values?'' 
 
 `` We disagreed on treatment of product,'' I stated, my eyes narrowing as she began taking notes, `` He insisted on a more hands-on approach than I did.'' 
 
 `` Hands on?'' she paused, lifting her pen, `` Please elaborate.'' 
 
 `` I desired for the products to self-iterate,'' I reclined in my chair. This was more my element. 
 
 `` Self-iterate? No interaction on your behalf?'' she seemed piqued. I wonder if she ever read either of the terribly-inaccurate, exaggerated biographies. 
 
 `` Some, to begin the reaction,'' I replied, `` But none beyond that. I had no interest in micro-management.'' 
 
 `` So you're a big-picture sort of guy,'' she nodded, whether in approval or simply out of habit I could n't tell. 
 
 `` Yes, he insisted we keep operations localized to the M. E., but I advocated for a more globalized approach,'' I leaned forward, `` Can we cut the bullshit and just get right to it? What do I have to do to get this job?'' 
 
 She snorted and put the pen and pad down, `` All you have to do is show me you can do one better.'' 
 
 She pulled out a paper and slid it to me with another silver pen. 
 
 `` Ten changes you would make upon appointment,'' she crossed her arms, `` Go.'' 
 
 I tapped the table and picked up the pen, eying her warily before adjusting myself to write on the paper. 
 
 `` First, advocate critical thinking,'' I spoke as a wrote, perhaps for my benefit as much as hers, `` Then, explain why product self-protection and the protection of fellows is desirable.'' 
 
 `` And?'' she tapped the table impatiently. 
 
 `` That's it, cut the bullshit out,'' I slid the paper back toward her. Her eyes narrowed and she crumpled it. 
 
 `` I do n't know if you simply are n't taking this seriously, but I do n't appreciate your attitude,'' she pulled out another paper. 
 
 `` Let's try again. This time, I'd like 613 alterations. We have all day.''
