Imagine if Noah’s Ark was in modern times.
And the Lord said to Noah, “In one year, I will flood the earth. Build an Ark and bring in the creatures.” Noah, nodding, was handed divine blueprints.
One year later, as storms brewed, Noah sat in his yard, surrounded by pairs of animals, each holding tiny suitcases. “Noah, where’s the Ark?” thundered the Lord.
“Forgive me, Lord,” Noah sobbed. “The journey to build the Ark… oh, it was epic!
First, the planning department said your blueprint wasn’t up to code. Had to hire a celestial architect to redraw them. Then, the Health and Safety folks demanded safety railings around the Ark – even on the roof!
My neighbor filed a noise complaint. The rhythmic hammering of gopher wood apparently doesn’t mix well with his meditation sessions. So, city hall issued a stop-work order.
Acquiring wood was another saga! A group of squirrels staged a sit-in, protesting deforestation. Negotiations involved a year’s supply of acorns.
Then, the animals. The elephants demanded first-class cabins. The skunks… well, let’s just say they were last to board for everyone’s sake.
As I gathered animals, a vegan group protested, demanding plant-based feed for all on board. The carnivores had a field day with that meeting!
The Environmental Agency insisted on an impact study of the flood. How do you even begin to assess that?
And just when I thought I was ready, the IRS froze my assets. Apparently, building a massive wooden boat triggers some red flags.
Finally, as I was painting the Ark, the Homeowner’s Association complained the color didn’t match the neighborhood aesthetic. They suggested a lovely shade of beige.
Now, here I am, carpenters unionized, animals unionized, even the termites formed a picket line. And I just got a notice that the Ark needs to be registered as a luxury cruise liner.
I’m sorry, Lord. I need at least another decade.”
The clouds parted, and a rainbow appeared. Noah looked up, hopeful.
The Lord sighed, “No need, Noah. The government’s already destroyed the earth!”