In PIC "Best of 2023" Awardthe beginning, God created the guest list. Now the guest list was looking bleak as hell, Marcia the “EDM Is Noise” activist was listed next to Rick with the Skrillex tattoos, and the fear of God was hovering over the prospect of His various friend groups discovering that God's tastes, beliefs, and entire personality were completely malleable.

And God said, “Let there be great music so none of them talk to each other,” and there was a DJ who worked in finance but DJed on the side. God saw that the DJ was not good, and He separated the DJ from the booth. God called the DJ “My buddy who works in finance,” and the booth He called “open to whoever wants to DJ.” But everyone who wanted to DJ also worked in finance. And there was second-rate deep house, and there was more second-rate deep house—the first lapse in judgment.

And God said, “Let the start time be early, like 9 PM, so that everybody comes around 10.” And it backfired, because everyone came at 11, except for Rick and Marcia, who came at 8:30—the second nightmare.

And God said, “Let there be non-alcoholic options to accommodate people who don't want to drink.” So God made a Virgin Mojito and a Regular Mojito. But the virgin mojito looked exactly like the regular one, and multiple guests disputed its virginity, which was a little triggering for God. And there was an impromptu debate on whether mocktails are a slippery slope for recovering alcoholics, and there was someone's +1 who asked in earnest, “Isn't alcoholism the alcoholic's own fault, though?”—the third fumble.

And God said, “Let there be balloons, for ambiance.” And there was ambiance.

But then a little voice in God's head said, “Is there though?” And the little voice added, snickering: “Or are you just a sad, ugly little LOSER, God?” And God took down the balloons. But God was scared of the “pop” noise balloons make when you pop them, so God asked His special angel to do it for Him.

Then God said, “And can you also help me with the mixers?” But God's special angel just sighed very loudly, and God said that that was hurtful, especially since God's love language was Acts of Service. And God's special angel responded, “Well, mine is Physical Touch,” which felt like kind of a messed up thing to say to God, but God didn't have time to unpack this on the night of the one party He was creating.

And by midnight God said, “Screw this. I'm creating a party and I'm not even having fun.” And God got downright plastered. But before He could so much as squat into His signature twerk, Lexi yelled that Rory had clogged the bathroom with poop and should she add more poop to “cancel it out;” and Bobby asked God to get more Solo cups, because Karim had used all 200 of them to create a makeshift plunger; and Rory told everyone she’d gotten food poisoning from the cheap chips God had bought; at which point Tara asked God if, by the way, she could bring eight +1s because one of them kept her insulin in a little pouch but she wasn't sure who; and Bobby joked that if Tara's diabetic, then my name's not Bobby and we're not out of cups right now; and Lexi, Bobby, and Tara all told God in unison, “No pressure, but let me know”—the fourth anxiety attack.

And God said no to Tara and yes to Lexi even though He'd meant to do the opposite, then burped and exited the interaction, lending credence to Rory’s cheap chips allegation—the fifth faux-pas. “Are you having fun?” one of God's friends asked, handing God a shot. “So much fun!” God said, downing the shot—the sixth attempt at self-delusion.

Then God's vision started to blur, and God got up on a table, extended His arms, looked onto the crowd, and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky.” And everyone thought that was so weird, which is when God rushed into the bathroom to vomit.

God saw all that He had vomited, and it was very bad. And there was regret, and there was some falafel from His lunch in there, and there was shame—the sixth “last time” God threw a party.

At least, God thought, the next day He would get to rest, because it was a Sunday and Sundays are sort of for Him.

But the next day, God just bought a Swiffer-Sweeper, and Swiffered, and Swept.