His force of will called itself back into existence, much as the first gods must have done. His bones knit themselves together from dusty shards, and his flesh boiled into place. Eventually, when he had a tongue, he spoke: “Who calls me?”
Before him stood a man, dressed strangely, holding a book.
“Umm…” the creature said, clearly confused, frightened.
“You dare summon me and now you try my patience as well?” He looked around. There were other men, some holding strange objects. There were impossibly bright lamps.
“Cut!” One of the men yelled. “Get the prop guy in here now.”