My dad, as fans will remember, is an archetypal mad scientist - bald, bearded, bespectacled, little bit loopy, lovely chap.
Being a scientist, he doesn't do god or the supernatural, but one story he does have is not so much of an arch nemesis, but of karma:

My dad was lying in the bath one day - I think before my sisters and I were born - and there was a Yucca plant of my mum's at the end of the bath. My dad hated that Yucca. You know when you just ... don't like something. It was horrid to him in every way.

Lying in the bath, he stared at it, hating it and it's very existence (In a way, I agree with him - Yuccas are smug - almost gloating).

Suddenly, without prompt nor warning, the Yucca JUMPED into the bath with him. Within seconds, he was lying in, in essence, a pool of mud. The more he thrashed around, the more muddy and filthy the bathroom became.

Don't hate on the Yuccas folks.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 5 May 2010, 14:41, Reply)