God: So I've been reading your blog, D.
God: It's pretty fucking meta.
Damon: Yeah, and?
God: I'm just saying you've put a lot of coded messages into it.
Damon: You think?
God: What do you think?
Damon: You want to get me on the couch or something?
God: No, but I'm just saying.
Damon: People think you're not you, God, that's the best part. They think I've made you up, or that you're one of my other friends.
God: Bitch, please.
Damon: The other thing, and I think it connects to what I was writing before, is that I feel a lot of writing is both making stuff up mixed with plundering your own life. So it's you and it isn't you.
God: Though I've read some of your other writing now too, those scripts you've sent me.
Damon: Finally. Why didn't you call me and tell me you were reading it?
God: Yeah, sorry about that, I'm busy, I'm God. Well, I wanted to surprise you,
Damon: It's cool.
God: But anyway, I was reading that one, and I was like "CODED MESSAGES"
Damon: I picked that up too, last night, when I was reading it.
God: But then you then make that part of the text.
Damon: I know!
God: Your meta is meta.
God: Meta meta.
God: You fucker.
Damon: What are you up to tonight?
God: You're not tired from last night?
Damon: Not at all, I slept it off.
God: Let me check it out, and I'll call you back.
Damon: Fair enough. Later.
God: Peace, and I'm out.