“But he’s a luck god, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Did I mention the dead rats that filled the attic crawl space?”

Teri bit her lip. “You’re right. I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“He’s not very big,” said Phil, “and he seems nice.”

Lucky came back in, chewing on a cold chicken leg. He’d stripped off most of the flesh and was gnawing on the bone. “Is there a problem, gang?”

Phil and Teri waited for the other to say something first.

“Can we cut the crap?” asked Lucky. “Let’s be honest, shall we? I’m sensing some reluctance on your part. You were looking for a heavenly benefactor, not a roommate. And now you’re having second thoughts.”

They nodded.

Lucky transformed in a flash into a hulking raccoon monster, as big as a bull, with slavering jaws, fearsome tusks, and burning red eyes.

“Blasphemers!” He stomped his feet with a crack of thunder. “Thou hast rejected thy god and roused mine righteous fury.” He roared, blasting them with his hot breath and divine saliva. “Prepare thyselves for the Hell of Great, Nibbly Agonies and an eternity of great and… uh… nibbly…” Lucky’s burning eyes furrowed.

“Agonies,” finished Phil timidly.

He changed back into his raccoon form and winked.

“You got moxie, kids.”

“You aren’t going to smite us?” asked Phil.

“No, I was just having some fun. You should’ve seen your faces. Half-fear, half-confusion. It was like one part of you was afraid for your life and the other couldn’t believe you were about to be eaten by a giant raccoon.” He chuckled. “Priceless.”

He grabbed the chicken bone, picked off the carpet fuzz, and sucked on it.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on any smiting, though it is well within my rights. But I’m not that kind of god. Never was a casual smiter. Sure, I’ve smote a few mortals in my day. I’m not proud of it, but it was back in the old days. Everyone was doing it, and I just wanted to be cool. But I’m past that sort of heavy-handed disciplinary action. It’s good for a laugh occasionally, but I don’t want to be your god because you’re afraid of me. I want us to be buddies, compadres. Heck, we’re practically family.