A little sacrilege

"Be not afraid, for we bear glad tidings."

"Okay, okay, cool..."

"Er..." the angel paused in its recitation as the unhumbled mother wound her hair around her fingers and flipped across her phone. "You have been blessed with child."

"No shit," she said, gesturing to her exposed midsection.

"And one day he..."

"Shh...la la la," she dropped her phone, covering her ears and shouted loudly, "I don't wanna know. We're gonna have a big party with a colored cake and balloons and everything."

"He will be called Eliso."

"If it's a boy I'm gonna name him Thunderstick."

"Thunderstick?" the angel struggled through the implications of how that holy book would read.

"Rean for a girl."

The angel sighed and continued its script, "But he..."

"Could still be a girl!"

"HE..."

          "La la la, can't hear you..."

"...shall be the great one, the savior of your people, the messiah."

    Her fingers dropped from her ears and she paused, twisting her lips up in thought, "Nu-uh he's gonna be a model/rock/movie star. And we'll all live in a giant tree house with a cheese wiz fountain."

The angel turned to its silent companion who only came for moral support. It shrugged its wings, uncertain what to make of such a monstrosity.

The mother of the future Thunderstick messiah, picked at her teeth to remove a popcorn kernel and returned to her phone. "Are we done here?"

She didn't look up as the blinding light assumed the angel's back to their domain. The final peel of the angel's voice dissolved into the air, "Someone needs to convince the big guy to stop using teenagers."