(God and the Archangel Michael, ironing out some last details about humanity)
The Archangel Michael: Dear God, how do we inform women that it's time to stop procreating?
God: What do you mean, "time to stop"?
Michael: Well, they can’t do it when they’re 80, right? Their bones would break.
God: Oh, they’ll certainly be dead by 50. Look how many diseases I made up. (Points to diseases.)
Michael: But let’s say they figure out to wash their hands. Once they invent soap someone’s going to live longer than that, King of Kings.
God: "Soap?" Christ. Okay, so we end things. Let's say, 40, they're done. No, 55.
Michael: You said they’d be dead by…
God: Somewhere between 40 and 55. Leave it up to them.
Michael: Leave it up to… ?
God: Their bodies or whatever. Their bodies are temples, right? Didn’t I make that up?
Michael: And how will they become aware this is happening?
God: Cause their menses to cease, obviously. I COMMAND CESSATION!
Michael: It’s just us, All Knowing One. You don’t have to blow out my eardrums.
God: Sorry, sorry.
Michael: So it just … doesn’t come back? That seems rude.
God: You think they need a warning? You’re right, they need a warning.
Michael: I mean, it might be nice—
God: Hot flashes.
God: Yea, their bodies shall verily heat from within, as if an inner fire rages.
Michael: So they heat up, and then they know the childbearing years are over?
God: It happens just, like, from time to time, for a while.
Michael: What does a while mean?
God: Between 1 and 10 years! You know I hate details, Michael.
Michael: Got it. Some hot flashes for ... a while.
God: Also mood swings. We’re going to make them angry. And then freaked out. And then angry again. And hot!
Michael: You already said hot.
God: It's such an important part of the process. For some reason.
(Michael begins backing out of room)
God: Also! Their menses shall be royally fucked for a good long while. One cycle might be 15 days, the next one 96. Just really all over the fucking place. So that when it does go away, they’re nothing but pleased.
Michael: (stares at Him)
God: Isn’t that nice? Isn’t that a nice thing I’m doing? They’re not thinking about mortality when their bodies are going haywire.
Michael: I mean—
God: Wait! And pimples. They’re going to break out like they’re teenagers.
Angel: God, why—
God: That’ll teach them to live that long.
Michael: Okay, well. Good job, My Lord. I think we have a good long list now, so...
God: Oh, I’m just getting started.
Michael: (sighs, takes out notepad again)
God: Look, this is just for fun. We both know they’re never going to learn to wash their hands.