Reincarnated as the God of Shitty Life Counseling for Defective Washed Up Waifus

Consultation 15.

"God, how do I eat a chocolate?"

“Are you stupid?” I started clicking my pen with my right hand in annoyance while I rested my face on the palm of my left hand. I looked at the loli across from me with a look best described as, ‘Are you here to waste my time?’

“I’m serious. I’m not stupid either.”

“You’re really serious right now?”

“Yes.” She had very earnest eyes that fully displayed her eagerness to learn.

“Look, you need to be this tall to receive life counseling from me.”

“I’m 24! What does my height have to do with this?”

“24? Is that the lie you wrote down on the form to get through screening?”

“I swear, it’s true! Look, here’s my driver’s license.”

“Tsk.” It was legit.

“You sure it’s not forged?”

“It’s real, I swear!”

“Haaaaah. Fine. I’m getting paid anyway I guess.”

“Let’s see, to eat chocolate you must first melt it down in a pot. Once you do that find a guy, push him down then restrain his limbs so he can’t run away. Rub his crotch a bit until it is solid in preparation to eat the chocolate. Dump the boiling hot chocolate on his dick to let it cool down. Once it solidifies you will have a chocolate banana. The next step is to open your mouth wide, insert the chocolate-covered banana into your mouth, and then...”

“What? Then what?” Her eyes were sparkling eager to learn how to eat chocolate.

I smiled sinisterly, “You bite down into it hard enough to tear a piece off.”

“Amazing!”

No way. Wait. I thought she was just pretending to be childish. She seriously looked like she’d eaten up every word I told her.

“Uh, by the way, I was kidding, that’s not how you eat chocolate.”

“What do you mean it’s not? Would God lie to me? You know, I don’t like… being lied to.” Scary. Her eyes were scary as hell.

“Uh… no I actually wasn’t lying.”

“Great, I’m going to go try eating some chocolate now. Bye bye.”

I squinted my eyes and slowly averted them to the side, not willing to watch the back of the departing monster with the childish appearance that I may or may not have unleashed upon men as a result of my awful advice.

This is not my fault. The world is to blame. It’s society’s fault. Definitely not mine. I didn’t do anything wrong here. I only did my job and gave out some shitty advice. It’s in my job description, okay?