Idris Will Make The Soup

Idris Elba made the soup. It’s important you know that. It was God soup. Or unGod soup. It unmade the gods.

2026 will be a good year.

What he did was gather wild mushrooms from a secret grotto in Switzerland; had pasta sauce sent to him from a gathering of Italian grannies; crowdsourced 8 recipes to be combined into one. The vegetable stock came from a co-op in Atlanta.

What was the point of soup if not to bridge worlds?

(there is more to u than what u think people need to see) (some people are so fixed on being the problem they never see they could be the solution.) (good health should be as important to u as all the work u put into harming it.) (don’t say you love a thing just so u can lure it in closer to treat it badly.)

This being Idris Elba, the soup was fooking epic. Gordon Ramsay tasted it and went full pastor-caught-in-sin apologetic. Idris captured one of Gordon’s tear and—amidst the lightning flashes of wild media—gave a gentle “Oi…” and added that bit of honesty to a pot large enough to feed 20.

The recipe would be disseminated to billions.

When one stretched to billions, one got to gods.

And there were definitely gods of soup. Soup was sustenance. It was life. And life…grew outward. Forever outward.

“But even soup can kill you,” some say.

“Every discovery expands infinity,” is the retort.

The first god to notice the soup cleared 2026’s air to aid its own clarity of thought. A worldwide love a soup—a simultaneous viral experience not only of satiation but of comfort—was as important as a new nebula formed from torn stars.

2026 will be a good year.

Then Baphoheel, undergod of automatic thoughts, lost its detachment to give full form to what everyone considered the moment the soup touched their lips: peace. Perhaps love but mostly peace. The universe was a minute older than Baphoheel, and this was the first the Ancient Essence of All had known peace.

2026 had better be the best year.

By the time the goddess decided remaking the universe was the best idea, the gods had SO integrated their love, curiosity, and fascination with everything brought about in humanity by the soup, that the entire species—no, the world—and when I say the world I mean the *Earth* itself discorporated save for one person, one contrite guardian of everything that had been wrong with humanity—that even parallel universes took note, hoping to quell their own unsettled stomachs.

My name is Denise.

Every discovery expands infinity.

All worlds are now soup. And at peace.

Soup killed the gods.

Soup rebuilt them too.

This proves the one immutable Truth Of Being: there is nothing Idris Elba can’t do.