Marcel, also known as 42 and other names

Marcel created 42, life, the universe and everything, and administrated all that shit for way too long. Marcel was really tired of it, and so fucking old he was a bit senile to be honest. Marcel needed a break. So, Marcel went on a well deserved vacation. Soon after, Marcel was sipping some burgundy at a terrace on Earth, more precisely at the hotel St-Tropez-Les-Palmiers, France. But Marcel was still tense after the billions of years of bullshit he had to endure from his rebellious son and the angels and the saints and the stupid bureaucracy of heaven. Marcel thought maybe some therapy wouldn't hurt. You're the therapist.