Let me get back to the fall: the beginning, my formative years. There I was in Heaven: me, my fellow angels, all worshiping this old bastard. And man did he keep stressing his importance. Worship or else. Then some time later I love you. I’m telling you, whoever his parents were (he’d never acknowledge them, always claimed he had existed since eternity) they sure did pull a number on him.
There I was in Heaven surrounded by elementary pricks, all of them digging the worshiping a little bit too much, born to brown-nose — well most of them at least. You know the type. Most angels were, and still are, humans with…