In the beginning, there was nothing,

And then there was Garfield.

And Garfield looked upon the vastness of space,

A God, lone and lonesome,

And Garfield spoke unto the vastness of space,

"Hear Me, for I am GARF and these are the Words of Garf,

It is not meet that I should be alone and hungry,

So I shall build a world for Me, and I shall make men, and they shall cook lasagna,

For the toiling and troubles of men are sweet to Garf,

And lasagna is savory to the Tongue of Garf,

And so it shall be."

And Garfield looked down from His Throne on High,

Upon the primordial pangolin, the most ancient of beings,

Strange and awkward in its own skin,

And Garfield slew the primordial pangolin to make way for men, saying,

"Now I am become GARF,

The Destroyer of Pangolins."

Then Garfield raised the pillars of the earth, and dug fountains in the deep,

Wielding his Golden Desert Eagle, Garfield carved out canyons and mountains,

His spent bullets became all the lead deposits in the world,

And His spent shell casings became all the other metals in the world,

And Garfield saw that this was good.

But still Garfield was alone and hungry,

And Garfield spoke unto the empty world and the night-now-filled-with-pangolin-stars,

"This is too much work!"

And Garfield took a nap,

Thus ended the first day, the first Monday,

Remembered forever after with hatred, for on this day Garfield did the Work of Garfield.

The Repose of Garfield brought down dreams and fancies and half-remembered things,

Beauties and terrors within the wandering Mind of Garfield,

And Garfield saw that His world was to be a world of many doings and happenings,

Of pain and joy, but mostly pain,

And Garfield saw that it was good.

And the Dreamings of Garfield drew forth moisture from the Loins of Garf,

And the Moisture of Garf was upon the face of the earth and the face of the waters,

The Liquid Word of Garf, the Essence of Garf, given freely to all the Universe,

And from the Essence of Garfield sprang the Lesser Gods.

The Lesser Gods assembled before Garfield on High,

Trembling before His august presence,

Yet reveling in His benevolent gaze,

And the Gods spoke thusly unto Garfield.

"I am Jon Arbuckle, the Firstborn Son of Garf,"

Spoke Jon Arbuckle, he of brown hair and servile tendencies,

"I shall be the devoted servant of Garfield,

Wherever Garfield shall go, I shall follow,

And the Words of Garf will be my clarion call,

For I am Jon Arbuckle, the Wingman of Garf."