IMAGINE that God waited until now to flood the world.

He locates Noah by Tinker Brook, Oswaldtwistle, proclaiming, "This stream'll become a torrent with what I'll send down. Build an ark! I'll be back."

Months later, rain descends and so does God, "Noah! The Ark! Where is it?"

"Erm, planning permission, Lord," replies Noah. "They classed the ark as a permanent addition to my back garden, refusing to believe it was only temporary.

"Then, the council banned it as a potential eyesore, disabled access regulations judged the ark's ramp too steep, and the Transport Department demanded I post a £1m bond to meet expected costs of moving the ark to the sea.

"The environment department said the lesser-crested milk-bottle-top-tippling tit would be endangered with the loss of so many trees for the ark, branding plans to save only one breeding pair as unacceptable.

"The R.S.P.C.A. charged me with conspiracy to cruelly confine animals and British Waterways Flood Control said a world flood might threaten the canal system.

"Equal Opportunities claimed that saving only my family did not fully represent ethnic minorities; Customs and Excise refused import licences for exotic species, and the Department of Works said I must only employ accredited ark builders.

Suddenly, the rain stops. "Aren't you going to destroy the world now?" asks Noah "I'm too late," cries God, "the British Government has beaten me to it."

(my thanks to Skip Southern, a Christian prisoner, for the original idea).