Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for strength. "Just what is it you're qualified to do?"

"Oh, well," he paused for a moment of visible discomfort. "I suppose if you want something specific, I'm very good at building things."

Sharon perked up. This was something she could work with, either in terms of finding him work or pinning him down as a fraud. She didn't see that it mattered much either way. "Construction? Are you a foreman?"

Again, the pause. "Um, no. Not really."

"An engineer, then?" She pressed him, convinced she had unearthed a spectacular line of bull. "Or maybe an architect? Do you build towers and bridges?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm actually quite good at landscaping. I've done some pretty spectacular work in that field. I'm sure you've heard of some of my work." He looked very discomfited at this point.

He wasn't giving her what she needed, but she felt confident she could pull it out of him. "What exactly have you done?"

"Well--everything, really. There isn't much I haven't done."

Sharon closed her eyes and massaged her temples. The level 8 headache was arriving with much fanfare in her brain, and she felt her patience slipping. It was obvious by now that he was simply not going to tell the truth. "Mr. Jehovah, unless you can clarify your job history for me, there isn't much I can do for you. You have to cooperate with me, and I feel you haven't been truthful with me at all."

The man sighed deeply, lost in thought. Sharon felt a moment of unease, and found herself wondering if her efforts weren't stirring him into some psychotic episode. Visions of his finely combed hair in bloody disarray as he stood over her broken and bleeding body filled her mind. She felt her mouth go dry and tried to swallow to relieve it.

Eventually, he stirred and sat straight in his chair. "Ms. Encino, I'm going to tell you something which I know you're not going to believe at first."

She relaxed. "Really?" she replied with tremendous sarcasm. "Why stop now?"

"You see, as preposterous as it may seem, I'm God."

This was the expected response, and once the moment had arrived, she found it incredibly hilarious. She felt a touch of pride at her cool, professional response to this wisecrack. "I'm honored to have You in my office, but I'm not qualified to help someone of Your caliber. I wasn't trained to place supernatural beings."

"I know you've had a hard time with your mother's religion, and I regret the path they've taken," he said softly. "Lucifer is always trying to subvert the Holy Cause."

Something in his eyes disturbed her as he said this, and she focused on the folder until she recovered. Finally, she closed the file and put on her best you're pathetic but I'm a professional face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jehovah, but I'm afraid there's something nothing I can do for you."

He held up a hand and beckoned her to wait. "Ms. Encino, I know this hasn't started very well, and I wish to make it up to you. I can prove to you that I'm truly the Lord God. Will you grant me that?"

This could be amusing, so long as he didn't do something psychotic like leaping out the window to prove his divinity. She sat back and gestured for him to proceed. "I'm on pins and needles. Go ahead."

She looked up from the card and smiled at him. "I thought there were supposed to be three of you. God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. Which one are you?"