Inspector Tuma-Sukai wanders through the station, ostensibly performing a routine inspection of his command, but far too distracted by thoughts of the last few days’ events to really notice his surroundings. A loud snore brings his mind back to the present, the sound emanating from one of the holding cells. He begins to chuckle as he gazes at the large man occupying the cell, but the chuckle quickly fades as he detects an aura of power coming from the snoring figure.
He moves swiftly up the stairs and into Sergeant Machado’s office. “Sergeant, a word, please,” he begins. “I think it would be best if the Guardia Dei handled the arrest of any gods. Additionally, our holding cells are not meant for that level of containment.”
“Yes, sir,” the confused sergeant replies, “I know all of that.”
“Then, perhaps you can tell me why you’ve arrested a god?”
“None of my people have arrested any gods.”
“There is a God sleeping in one of the cells right now,” Sky counters. “I know none of the Dei arrested him, so how do you think he got there?”
A look of sudden realization comes over the sergeant and he chuckles. “Oh, that’s probably just Brew, sleeping it off.”
“Brew?” Sky asks.
“Yeah,” Sergeant Machado replies, “See, we arrested him a few years ago for being drunk and disorderly. We didn’t know who he was at the time, and he came along quietly. We didn’t know he was a god until the next morning. He said that we had the most comfortable cell he had ever slept in and asked if we minded if he came by from time to time to sleep it off when he’d had too many.”
“So, he comes by and you arrest him?” Sky asks, trying to make sense of the situation.
“No, sir. He locks himself up.”
Sky raises an eyebrow. “He locks himself up?”
“Yes, sir. He has a key.”
Sky’s other eyebrow quickly joins the first one in a surprised look. “You gave him a key to the cells?”
“Well, it seemed like the right thing to do. What with him coming by so often, it just made it easier on all of us.”
Sky could feel the conversation rapidly getting out of control. “So you’re telling me that this god gets drunk often enough to warrant a permanent cell of his own?”
“Um, yes sir. He is the god of beer, after all. I think it’s part of his job.”
Sky sits for a moment in shocked silence. He then slowly lowers his head and shakes it. Looking back up at the sergeant, he says, “I think we should go have a chat with this beer god.”