Deep within the space between spaces, where everything and nothing exists all at once, where time is a suggestion and space is both infinite and nonexistent, Whitney the Wordsmith was feeling bored.
This was nothing especially new. Cosmic beings frequently get bored – it’s the number three cause of apocalypses, after asteroid strikes and disco fever. The trouble was, unlike other godlike beings, Whitney generally tried to behave. She wasn’t one to go down and mess with the mortals. She much preferred the quiet solitude of her indefinite library, writing her books and meeting wayward travellers. She was a good deity, thank you very much, and she didn’t get involved with rendering realities nonfunctional for fun.
And yet… and yet she was so bored!
Whitney grit her teeth, looking at the vanity mirror on her desk. She kept her head shaved – it made her look more intellectual, she thought – but right now she wanted hair to tear at. No stories came to her mind, no fresh ideas or novel theses. She just felt decidedly blocked, and she knew she needed to find another outlet to unblock her mind. And yet it just wasn’t seemly to–
–oh, who was she kidding?
She reached into her desk and pulled out a manila folder, looking for a sufficiently disposable universe to play around in. To be fair, to one of her ilk, that was just about all of them, but she was looking for one in particular that would be messed around with by the other dieties if she didn’t get to it first.
She reached a particular category that caught her eye.
College Universes.