The catalogue gets thrown on heaven’s counter.
(“The perfect fit! Page 69!”)
The cosmic number’s dialed.
The order’s placed
By God to Nature and Circumstance, Inc.
(“Yeah, they tell me the details are still up in the air.”)
Ring, ring…
“I want her,” the Celestial Customer explains
“So tall, so wide;
(She’ll thank me for it later)
A good sized brain, put on
Shoulders for slumping and squaring;
Breasts
To altogether be the envy and aspiration of man;
Arms, crafted for reaching, embracing
Herself and the world;
A stomach, fit for carrying
Later models I wish to order;
Legs, to roam the world with;
Feet, fit for those high heels I invented.
Programmers…
(You have those at the manufacturing office?)
Yeah, go ahead and have them tinker with her,
Though I’ll probably end up redoing things.
(I’m a very picky person.)
Even I can’t control how she’ll see me,
See me she surely will.
And then you’ll send her to me, right?
How long’s delivery time?
(Eighty frigging years?!)
At least my custom collectables
Don’t go out of fashion
(In fact, they appreciate with time.)
Well, if that’s the best you can do…
No, you have a nice day.
I’m sure I’ll be ordering from you again.”
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