"Dad, can I please make something? Please?" Gabriel jumped up and down, tugging eagerly on his father's sleeve. "Pretty please? Just one thing?"
God sighed, exasperated. "Fine, Gabriel. Here's a box of spare parts. Go nuts." He handed the excitable young archangel a large box, and Gabriel ran off to build.
A FEW HOURS LATER
Gabriel ran back into God's workshop, carrying the significantly less full box. "Dad! I finished! Look, look!"
From behind his back, Gabriel pulled out. . .a very strange creature. It had a duck-like bill, four webbed feet, a beaver tail, and was furry.
"Umm. . ." God said, unsure of the proper reaction to such an animal.
"It's a platypus!" squealed Gabriel proudly. "Can we keep it, Dad, please?"
The lord of all creation sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Gabe, I'm sorry, but-"
"Please, Dad? I worked so hard!" the archangel begged.
"You know what? Sure. Keep it. Just. . .why don't you put in Australia with all of the other, ah, things, alright?"
"Okay! Thanks, Dad!"
THE END