[Setting: A Sunlit Park, Near a Bench with a Conveniently Placed Rosebush]

The God of Coincidence sits on the bench, legs crossed, holding a well-worn book of Sinfest comics. His brow is furrowed in exaggerated concentration, though he never actually turns the pages. Felicity, the God of Happy Accidents, lounges nearby, examining a single rose she’s plucked from the bush. the God of Conundrums leans against the bench, arms crossed, looking half-bored, half-annoyed.

Claire arrives mid-scene, holding a coffee cup, clearly unsure why she agreed to this outing.

Coincidence (without looking up): “You know, the best comics make you question reality. But the great ones? They make you laugh while you’re doing it.”

Claire (sitting on the far end of the bench, cautiously): “And this is one of the great ones?”

Coincidence (grinning, eyes still on the comic): “Oh, undoubtedly. It's all in the pacing. And the goat jokes.”

Conundrum (rolling his eyes): “Yes, let’s all aspire to a legacy of goat jokes. Very profound.”

Felicity (twirling the rose, smirking): “Careful, darling. Legacies have a funny way of blooming when you least expect it.”

Coincidence (snapping his fingers, still reading): “Exactly! Legacies aren’t something you leave behind—they’re something you plant. Like a rose. Or, in this case...” (gesturing vaguely to the comic) “...a joke about the futility of human ambition. Beautiful stuff.”

[Scene 1: The Rose and Its Thorn]

Felicity hands the rose to Claire with a flourish, but keeps hold of the stem, teasingly pulling it back just as Claire reaches for it.

Felicity (playfully): “A gift. But you’ll have to accept it on its terms.”

Claire (raising an eyebrow): “Terms? It’s a rose, not a contract.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Felicity: “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Everything has terms. Even roses.”

Conundrum (muttering): “Here we go. Another metaphor.”

Felicity (ignoring him): “You see, a rose is beautiful, yes. But it’s also fragile. And guarded by thorns. You can’t admire its beauty without risking a little pain. The trick is... knowing when it’s worth it.”

Claire (taking the rose carefully): “And if it’s not?”

Coincidence (still not looking up): “Then you miss the point entirely. And the joke.”

[Scene 2: The Comic and Its Critics]

Claire (gesturing to the comic): “So what’s the deal with this? Is it all just... jokes?”

Coincidence (grinning, holding the book up): “Jokes are the sauce of life, Claire. And this?” (gesturing to the pages) “This is a masterclass. A snapshot of absurdity that somehow makes you feel like the world is less chaotic. Or more chaotic. Depends on your perspective.”

Conundrum (leaning forward, skeptical): “Perspective, huh? Let me guess—another lesson about how nothing is really random.”

Coincidence (turning a page, unbothered): “Not a lesson, my dear conundrum. An observation. Sometimes the most influential things seem trivial until you step back and see the whole picture.”

Felicity (grinning): “And sometimes, the whole picture is just a rose.”

Claire: “Or a goat joke?”

Coincidence (laughing): “Precisely!”

[Scene 3: Legacy in Bloom]

The group falls into a thoughtful silence, punctuated only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional laugh from Coincidence as he reads.

Claire (breaking the silence): “So, what’s the point? Of the comic. The rose. Any of it?”

Felicity (tilting her head): “Does there have to be one?”

Conundrum (smirking): “There usually is. You just don’t see it until it’s too late to change anything.”

Coincidence (finally looking up, closing the comic with a dramatic flourish): “Ah, but that’s the beauty of influence. It doesn’t have to make sense to be meaningful. It just has to... exist. Like a punchline waiting for its joke.”

Claire (frowning): “That’s... not an answer.”

Coincidence (winking): “Exactly. Which means it’s the perfect one.”

[Scene 4: A Coincidental Exit]

As the group begins to disperse, a sudden gust of wind carries the rose from Claire’s hand. It lands at the foot of a passing saxophone player, who picks it up with a flourish, tips his hat, and walks off without a word.

Claire (watching him go, incredulous): “Wait... was that—?”

Felicity (grinning): “A coincidence? An influence? A joke? Who’s to say?”

Coincidence (chuckling as he walks away): “Sinfest said it best: ‘The beauty of it all is that we’re all in on it. Whether we know it or not.’”

Conundrum (shaking his head, muttering): “And they call me the conundrum.”

[End Scene]