The new smart phone was a revelation for Puck, and for a few days after giving it to him, Elliott didn’t hear from him as he went down the rabbit hole of the internet. When at last he began to text, he had discovered emojis. 

“What do you know about tiktok?” was his first text, followed by the “eyes” emoji. 

Elliott wrote back, “More than I’m willing to explain via text.”

A few hours later Puck shot back with, “Algorithm = bad?” and a “thinking” emoji. 

“Depends on context,” Elliot responded, and a minute later they received another thinking emoji. “Do you want to come over?” they tried. “I’ll make dinner.” It had occurred to them that they hadn’t properly thanked Puck for the lottery winnings, and though they knew that the god didn’t need to eat, they thought he might enjoy it, nonetheless. 

Puck responded with a sparkle emoji. 

“Is that a yes?”

Grinning emoji.

“So, how are you liking the internet?”

Exploding head emoji. Heart eyes emoji. Smiling poop emoji.

Elliott wrote back with the smiling poop emoji, followed by a question mark.

“I have a lot of feelings,” Puck answered. 

“That’s fair,” Elliott responded, then added, “Dinner at 7?”

Thumbs up emoji. 

Elliott wasn’t really sure of what kind of food a god might like, but they settled on homemade macaroni and cheese, as they were fairly confident that they could pull it off. They managed to make the sauce without incident, but when it was done they realized that they’d forgotten to precook the noodles. When Puck arrived, they were boiling the pasta as they frantically whisked the sauce over low heat, in an attempt to keep it from either burning or congealing. 

“Do you need a hand?” Puck asked, taking in Elliott’s expression. 

“Do you mind checking the noodles?” they asked gratefully.

“Not at all,” said Puck, and retrieved a fork from the dish drainer by the sink. He fished a noodle out and put it in his mouth without bothering to let it cool first. “Seems about al dente,” he announced.

“Perfect. Do you mind draining it? There’s a colander in the cupboard over there,” Elliott said, gesturing with their elbow in the direction of the cupboard in question. 

“No problem,” Puck agreed, and went to search the cupboard. Elliott continued to stir the sauce for about half a second before they came to a horrific realization. 

“Wait!” they yelped. “Not that cupboard!” but they were too late. Puck opened the cabinet next to the one Elliott had meant to indicate, and an avalanche of plastic yogurt cups, vegetable bags, and take out containers came cascading out onto the kitchen floor. “Oh my god,” they groaned in dismay. 

Puck looked at Elliott with curiosity. “I don’t see a colander.” 

“It’s in the other cupboard.”

“I see.” Puck gave Elliott a moment to collect themself as he located the colander in the correct cupboard and strained the macaroni. Then he began the daunting task of stuffing the collection of plastics back into the cupboard from whence they’d come. Elliott tipped the noodles into a baking dish and poured the sauce over them, their cheeks blazing red.

“So,” Puck began. “Can I ask what’s up with all of this? I’d kind of pegged you for a minimalist.”

Elliott put the baking dish into the oven with a sigh. “I just figure if I can use it again, I should.” 

“I see.” Puck was quiet for a minute before adding, “But do you really need all of it?”

“No, but it seems so wasteful to throw it all away.” Elliott could feel themself growing increasingly flustered, and began talking faster and faster, hoping to justify to Puck what they knew was, in essence, an irrational obsession. 

“Did you know there’s an island of plastic twice the size of Texas in the Pacific Ocean?” they asked. “And microplastic is everywhere. And don’t even get me started on climate change -- every year we’re setting new record highs, and the entire west coast catches fire every summer and fall, and we’re just getting used to the air smelling like smoke for a month, and we keep going on like everything’s fine as we drive other species to extinction, and--”

“Slow down,” Puck interrupted. “Those are all terrifying things, but I’m not sure I understand how a cupboard full of plastic trash is supposed to prevent all of that.”

“It doesn’t, I just don’t know what else I can do. I can’t convince companies not to use plastic packaging, or make people stop driving. I just try to reuse this stuff as much as I can, before it ends up in a landfill.”

Puck gave the cupboard full of plastic a thoughtful look. “I see,” he eventually said. “So keeping this stuff makes you feel less helpless?”

Elliott narrowed their eyes. “I guess. Can we change the subject?”

“Sure. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Elliott turned to the fridge and began rummaging around in the vegetable crisper, hoping the cool air would ease the burning of their face. It was merely a convenient coincidence that they needed ingredients for a salad. 

Puck obligingly changed the subject, enumerating the many wonders (and horrors) he’d discovered on the internet as Elliott finished making dinner. Since the only table in Elliott’s studio was the coffee table, when everything was ready they each took a bowl and sat on the sofa to eat. 

“How is it?” Elliott asked, having recovered somewhat from their embarrassment. 

“Good!” chirped Puck. “This is probably the most dairy I’ve consumed in the last century. Though to be fair, I don’t often eat.” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s pretty rich.”

“I like it,” Puck reassured them. They ate in silence for a few minutes before he ventured a question. “I won’t mention it again if you’d rather not talk about it, but you know, you have all of this money now. If you manage it well, you might be able to make a real difference with it. Environmentally, I mean.”

“Oh,” said Elliott, who still hadn’t accepted that their new fortune was real. “That’s a good point.” 

“Just something to consider.” Puck held back the impulse to mention that humanity was, in his opinion, probably doomed. Afterall, he liked how much Elliott cared -- it was one of the traits that drew him to certain humans.

“I will, thanks.”

Puck gazed fondly at his prophet, so determined to do their best despite all odds. The fact was that the secret of the universe was that there was no secret, no divine plan or purpose. Beyond basic causality, things didn’t happen for any meaningful reason -- they just happened. It was both the beauty and folly of humans that they found meaning where there was none. 

Elliott was feeling more confident now that the subject of their plastic hoarding seemed to have been laid to rest for the moment. Sensing that the time was right, they brought up a topic which had been on their mind.

“I’ve been thinking, I could easily afford a bigger apartment now,” they began.

“That’s for sure,” agreed Puck.

“So I wondered, what if we got a place together?”

Puck froze, a look of apprehension plastered on his face. 

“What?” asked Elliott, having abruptly lost their new-found confidence.

Puck gave a nervous laugh. “Nothing. I just don’t think we should rush into anything.” He reached across the sofa and affectionately brushed Elliott’s hair away from their eyes. Elliott tensed.

“Uh… what?” they faltered.

“No?” asked Puck, withdrawing his hand.

“I just meant we could be roommates.”

“Oh!” Relief flashed across Puck’s face, but was quickly replaced by a look of horror as he realized what he’d just done.

“Sorry, it’s just that you were a child like a month ago,” Elliott explained.

“Oh,” said Puck. “That’s fair. Though technically speaking, I’m the one who’s way too old.”

“Right. That too. Also the whole god thing. Bit of a power imbalance.”

“True. Sorry, I seem to have misread the situation. I just figured that’s where these things usually end up going.”

“These things?”

Puck shifted uncomfortably. “You know, prophet/god relations.”

Elliott stared, unsure of what to make of this revelation.

“Heh,” Puck gave a nervous laugh. “Probably for the best. Friendship seems less complicated.”

“Yes,” agreed Elliott. “Here, let me take your bowl,” they added, changing the subject and fleeing to the kitchen. There they attempted to process the fact that they’d just rejected the advances of a god. Life really had become too surreal.

Puck wins at internet