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That Guy has been getting too big for His britches lately! Being all omnipotent and omnipresent and omniscient, it's about time somebody teaches Him to be more omnihumble!

Getting to Him is no problem. You march into the nearest guitar store and pick up their demo axe and pick out a familiar melody. The clerk quickly alerts to this and stomps up to you, yelling and pointing at a sign reading "NO STAIRWAY"

You ignore him, carrying on with the tune. There's a good reason why guitar stores kick you out if you start playing this specific song. Long ago you heard there was a secret chord that David played, and it pleased the Lord. You play it now.

Reality rips apart around you, completely destroying the guitar store. Now before you is a Stairway, each step made of Mother-of-Pearl gilt with gold (as is traditional in gilding). The astonished clerk stares at you as you confidently ascend toward the Pearly Gates.

Peter stops you there, at his fussy little lectern, rapidly flipping through the Book of Life.

"I'm not in there," you say, "I'm here without an appointment."

Peter glares at you over his fussy little spectacles. "This is NOT an appointment book," he grumbles.

"Anubis was way better at this," you say, before you muscle past him and shove open the Pearly Gates.

A few winged guys in bathrobes plucking little harps stare dully at you as you march down the streets of Heaven, toward the grand temple at its center.

"God!" you shout, "Damn it where are you, you big coward! Come out here and fight me!"

"I don't think you're allowed to say that," says one of the harp guys as you storm past.

"Go pluck yourself, feathers," you growl. One of his harp strings break with a satisfying PLINK!

Finally, you reach the grand golden temple. You know He's here, because all the light of Heaven is pouring forth His grandeur. You march up to the great throne, His throne, and draw your sword.

"Oh," says God, "It's you. What are you doing here?" When He speaks, it's hard to perceive anything else. Each syllable feels like watching entire galaxies blaze into light and gutter away.

"A fair bit more than you are!" you shout back, but your loudest shout can't compare to His quietest whisper. You can feel it getting to you, His incredible aura, but your steely resolve holds. "Your days of letting bad things happen to good people is at an end!"

"Everything I do," He says, "Is what must be done."

"Yeah, well," you reply, "It sucks. Stop it."

"Enough." He says, and Michael the Archangel steps forward. "Michael, see to this lost one."

"Oh no," you say, "You're not getting rid of me that easy, I don't want to fight your little pet, I want YOU, down off your pedestal and squared off in front of me!"

"You misunderstand," says Michael, and he pulls a little golden chain hanging off God's Throne.

A trapdoor springs open under your feet. You couldn't help but be in the place before God where mortals stand in His judgement. As you fall, for a brief moment, His glorious radiance splits and you see the self-satisfied smirk on His face like burnished gold. That bastard. This isn't over.

You fall for a very long time, through light and darkness and light again, before finally landing on a vast icy plane. "Ow" says a voice beneath you. You roll and stand up to see you landed directly on Adolph Hitler's face, frozen and barely poking out of the ice around it.

You make a point to step on him as you pull your robes closer around you. The wind whips at you and you know if you take too long you're going to end up just like the frozen Kraut beneath you.

Level4 WIP Options Hell