God comes in and sits down at the table.
Abram: Getcha a glass of Mogen David, sir? . . . Oh I forgot, you don’t drink.
God: Now that you mention it, I think I will have an earthen pot of the stuff . . . just to celebrate the deal.
Abram retrieves a bottle and mugs. The bottle reads “Christian Brothers.” He pours two drinks and hands one to God.
Abram: Here you go, sir.
He joins God at the table.
God: (Snifﬁng) Hey, this smells like Christian Brothers!
Abram: (To himself) Ohmigod, wrong bottle. (To God) You must have a cold, sir. (Snifﬁng) It smells okay to me.
God: Hmmm. I could have sworn . . .
Abram: (Laughing nervously) I mean, what would I be doing with a bottle of Christian Brothers?
God: (Chuckling) Yeah, I guess the old nose just ain’t what it used to be . . . Well, here’s to our covenant.
(Offering a toast) Cheers.
Abram: (Clinking God’s mug) Cheers.
God takes a sip.
God: Funny, but it tastes like Christian Brothers.
Abram: I wouldn’t know. Never tried the stuff.
God: Of course I’m just going by hearsay.
Abram: Of course.