The problem with a world run by indecisive and disorganised gods was that the result was an indecisive and disorganised world. A world where people often found themselves upside down, buildings liked to float in mid-air and kitchen appliances had begun organising a rebellion. Welcome to a place known as Graft; please hang your sanity on the nearest singing hat stand.
Brussels sprouts, Fevory considered, should not be allowed to exist. Gublibus, the God of sustenance and all things edible, must have been having a pretty off day when he thought them up. Nevertheless, Fevory began battling his way through his second plate of the things. Not out of choice - there was simply nothing else left in the cupboard.
Across the hall his roommate Borik-Cahn was crying again.
"Won't you please shut up?!" yelled Fevory, though the words were scarcely identifiable as at that precise moment he'd just shoved a forkful of sprouts into his mouth. He hoped his tone of voice would get the point across for him.
It didn't. Borik continued wailing away, mixing moaning sobs with gurgling coughing sounds at regular intervals. In other circumstances, Fevory might have put up with the nonsense. He would never have gone to find out what was wrong, let alone help - he wasn't that sort of man. But he would've been considerate to put on some loud music or disappear off to the tavern for a few hours. However Borik was... well... Borik. And that meant he was entitled to no patience or sympathy whatsoever. His sole function in the Universe was to be an irritant on legs.
Fevory spurted a cloud of flames from his torso, setting his sprouts on fire. The smell they made when they burned was not a pleasant one - in fact, it was close to the stench they made when they were reaching your rear end.
"Curses," he muttered. He didn't say an actual curse, because he was a wizard. For wizards, careless words such as those in curses could have disastrous consequences for the subject of said defamation (although Fevory recognised this may not always be a bad thing).
"Borik if you do not shut up this instant I will throw you into the endless sea!" Fevory exclaimed, leaving the plate of flaming sprouts to burn themselves out. At any rate they seemed to make better firewood than food.
Borik's bawling tapered off into stifled whimpers. For a split second Fevory felt sorry for Borik; after all it couldn't be easy to be hated by everyone. But then what could he, Fevory the moderately-acceptable wizard, do about it anyway? It wasn't his fault the Gods must've been in a particularly foul mood the day of Borik's creation.
The Gods, who lived "up there in that bit of sky where it's a little fuzzy and we'll never quite reach because the Gods don't appreciate visitors", were often sulky. Most of the philosophers on Graft, Fevory's home planet, agreed that they were probably all teenagers. Other evidence that advocated this was the fact that the wind often made sounds that were suspiciously similar to swear words and there were an obscenely large number of natural landmarks that were sexually suggestive.
Fevory couldn't shake the guilt of feeling like a bad person, so he summoned his dragon and flew off to the tavern that was situated almost directly above their block of flats, albeit 10000ft higher up in the air. It was called the Subterra, because for wizards, a building at 10000ft was very low down indeed.
"Well that was a bit rude," muttered his dragon, without any name in particular (though it was often referred to using various swear words due to its nature to make Fevory feel bad).
"So?" said Fevory, not wanting an argument. He wanted a beer, and maybe some decent food.
"So don't you have any morals?" snapped the dragon, a little bit of fire escaping from her teeth.
"We've been through this a thousand times. No, I do not have any morals. Life tends to work out better if you don't,"
"That's true, but what about the afterlife?"
"Well... that's after isn't it? I'm not interested in after, I'm interested in now and here and present. And presently I don't want to listen to some idiot blubbering into a pillow all night."
The dragon shut up. After all, the wizard had a fair point.