God: Lucifer...Lucifer, where are you?
Satan (thinks): F*** off. You made me like this. Don't come playing all "benevolent Creator" with me.
God: Lucifer...oh, there you are. Pray tell, what are you doing?
Satan: I believe, Lord, the colloquial expression would be "eating dirt".
God: Oh yeah, sorry about that. Had to make an example of you, see. Couldn't have the others thinking they could get away with it.
Satan: Yeah, got that. Thanks a bunch. What do you want?
God: Listen, I, erm, need your help.
Satan (interested): Oh really? And what the ...um, Eden, am I supposed to do from down here? I mean, all-powerful Lord, what is it that the three aspects of you can't manage without humble little me?
God (squirming): Erm, I want to lose Adam and Eve.
Satan (eyes widening, slithering closer): REALLLLLLLY? I'm all ears, erm, I mean vibration sensors.
God: Look, they're not really meant to stay up here. There's no resistance; they need to grow. Adam's getting a beer gut and Eve is becoming vain...and as for their lack of character, oi vey. I saw it and it was good, but they're boring me to tears now.
Satan (slyly): So, what is it you want me to do? And what might I get out of it?
God: Sand dunes of dirt to eat?
Satan: Hmm. Sounds like the Ruach has deserted you. Not inspiring. Take two.
God: Hmmm. Ok, ok, you get to be a trickster - introducing an element of chaos, and a bit of temptation to keep things interesting. I'll also throw in your own real estate, with hierarchies of demons to mirror the angels you were in charge of, 'cos you'll need the help. The paperwork will be murder.
Satan: I'm listening.
God: I've already tried. I told them that they can't eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.
Satan: AND THEY'RE STILL AVOIDING IT?? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE CREATURES OF YOURS? Send them back to the workshop and get a refund.
(suddenly comprehending) Ah.
God: Yeah. You see the problem.
Satan (thinking): Hmmm. Has the Ruach run out of ideas?
God: Free will is a sticking point here. I can't exactly cajole, coerce, strongly suggest...
Satan: So you need an external agent.
God: Whatever it takes; just get them out of the damn garden.
Satan: Right. They're your creations; any suggestions on how to approach this?
God: I'd go for the woman. She thinks for herself, which is more than I can say for that lump of clay currently developing a beer gut.
Satan: You know what that means, don't you?
God: That men will rule the earth, subjugate women and have a monopoly on organised religion?
Satan: Yes. You sure you want to do this?
God: Absolutely. It'll make things more entertaining: the women will rise up over time and take their rightful place - on top - in the bedroom and the boardroom.
Satan: Are you SURE?
God: Or men will make the human race extinct. Doesn't matter; we'll start again.
Satan: Can I be an angel again then? The brightest of them all?
God: Of course. Just remember to bow when I ask you to, next time.
Satan: My neck's a little stiff...
God raises a celestial eyebrow
Satan: Ok, ok, you're on. It's a deal. Oh, and Jesus?
The Son: Yes?
Satan: I'll see you in Hell.
The Son: Wouldn't miss it.