By now Peter had their undivided attention, and they both stared at him, wary of what he would say next. He sat down and turning toward Michael said, “Your angels have done a pretty good job of marketing and public relations. Most people have heard of angels and many believe in you.” Turning toward La Gargouille, “You gargoyles on the other hand have not done so well. Few people believe in you and most dismiss you as an archaic, architectural oddity.”
At that La Gargouille coughed up a cloud of smoke and inquired, “Oddity?”
Peter ignored the question and continued, “However, you have been close to mankind and studied their ways. No one knows mankind better than gargoyles. You know how they feel, how they think, and all their trials and tribulations. You specially understand their computers.”
“Computers?” echoed Michael.
“Yes, computers!” affirmed Peter. “I want La Gargouille’s gargoyles to teach your angels all about computers, and I want your angels to teach the gargoyles about marketing. Understood?”
“But, but...” sputtered Michael.
“No buts about it! You need to automate your angels A-S-A-P.”
“Michael gave La Gorgouille a puzzled look.
La Gorgouille blew smoke at Michael and said, “He means as soon as possible.”
“But why? asked Michael. “God tells me everything I need to know.”
“That is fine when He has time, but His work load is growing rapidly. You would not believe all the prayers that He personally answers. And now people want to be able to e-mail Him their requests.”
Michael turned toward La Gorgouille again.
“An e-mail is an electronic letter,” said the grinning dragon.
Peter continued, “Besides, the human race is doubling every few years. He wants you angels to do more on your own. The gargoyles can show you how, and you can teach them how to market themselves to improve their image.”
“But St. Peter,” complained Michael. “We can do that and still have separate conventions.”
“It has to start somewhere. Consider it a pilot program or a beta test.”
Exasperated, Michael gave La Gorgouille another quizzical look.
The dragon grinned and said, “He means a trial run.”
Peter continued, “I want you creatures to get to know each other, to become a team, to work together. Set up a joint committee to plan the convention. Then form one sub-committee to develop a master plan to computerize and another sub-committee to market the gargoyles.”
“That sounds like work not fun,” said La Gorgouille.
Peter laughed, “Sometimes you are a mite slow, but you usually come around. This is going to be a working convention.”
“But we need to take a break,” protested Michael. My angels have worked harder than ever the last thousand years and have been looking forward to this convention.”
Peter stood up, signaling a close to the discussion. “Well, make it fun. Have a couple of mixers or even a dance.”
“Dance?” asked Michael in disbelief. “Have you ever seen gargoyles try to dance?” They trip on their own feet. Besides, they smell.
La Gorgouille stood up and pointed a claw at Michael, “You would smell too if you had to sit on a building in all sorts of weather.” Turning toward Peter, “These angels get feathers everywhere. They will get into the punch and food. It’s disgusting!”
“Nonetheless,” said Peter. “Work it out! I want to know the date and place by tomorrow. Make it as far away from earth as possible this time. Brief me in a week on the rest of your plans. Any questions?”
“No sir,” they both replied.
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At that La Gargouille coughed up a cloud of smoke and inquired, “Oddity?”
Peter ignored the question and continued, “However, you have been close to mankind and studied their ways. No one knows mankind better than gargoyles. You know how they feel, how they think, and all their trials and tribulations. You specially understand their computers.”
“Computers?” echoed Michael.
“Yes, computers!” affirmed Peter. “I want La Gargouille’s gargoyles to teach your angels all about computers, and I want your angels to teach the gargoyles about marketing. Understood?”
“But, but...” sputtered Michael.
“No buts about it! You need to automate your angels A-S-A-P.”
“Michael gave La Gorgouille a puzzled look.
La Gorgouille blew smoke at Michael and said, “He means as soon as possible.”
“But why? asked Michael. “God tells me everything I need to know.”
“That is fine when He has time, but His work load is growing rapidly. You would not believe all the prayers that He personally answers. And now people want to be able to e-mail Him their requests.”
Michael turned toward La Gorgouille again.
“An e-mail is an electronic letter,” said the grinning dragon.
Peter continued, “Besides, the human race is doubling every few years. He wants you angels to do more on your own. The gargoyles can show you how, and you can teach them how to market themselves to improve their image.”
“But St. Peter,” complained Michael. “We can do that and still have separate conventions.”
“It has to start somewhere. Consider it a pilot program or a beta test.”
Exasperated, Michael gave La Gorgouille another quizzical look.
The dragon grinned and said, “He means a trial run.”
Peter continued, “I want you creatures to get to know each other, to become a team, to work together. Set up a joint committee to plan the convention. Then form one sub-committee to develop a master plan to computerize and another sub-committee to market the gargoyles.”
“That sounds like work not fun,” said La Gorgouille.
Peter laughed, “Sometimes you are a mite slow, but you usually come around. This is going to be a working convention.”
“But we need to take a break,” protested Michael. My angels have worked harder than ever the last thousand years and have been looking forward to this convention.”
Peter stood up, signaling a close to the discussion. “Well, make it fun. Have a couple of mixers or even a dance.”
“Dance?” asked Michael in disbelief. “Have you ever seen gargoyles try to dance?” They trip on their own feet. Besides, they smell.
La Gorgouille stood up and pointed a claw at Michael, “You would smell too if you had to sit on a building in all sorts of weather.” Turning toward Peter, “These angels get feathers everywhere. They will get into the punch and food. It’s disgusting!”
“Nonetheless,” said Peter. “Work it out! I want to know the date and place by tomorrow. Make it as far away from earth as possible this time. Brief me in a week on the rest of your plans. Any questions?”
“No sir,” they both replied.
For e-books by me, visit http://smashwords.com/profile/view/monteranderson.
Follow me on Twitter at http://twitter.com/monteranderson
Follow my blog at http://monteranderson-author.com or http://monteranderson.wordpress.com.
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