Act of God - Emma.

(This story continues from Act of God - Anne.)

It's the next morning. Emma Stone is walking down a street in Los Angeles, chatting on the phone to her agent. God and Joe follow at a safe distance, still invisible.

"Oh. My. God. Did you see her? How did that happen to her dress? Yes. Yes. I know. Yes. And now she's spending the whole week naked for some reason. She must be hating it. Do you think she joined a cult?"

God snaps his fingers. Emma feels a slight breeze, and frowns. She keeps walking, as passers-by begin to turn their heads. "No. No, I'd hate that. So embarrassing. You know I won't do nudity. Serves her right for getting her tits out in the movie Love And Other - what do you mean, I'm being posted on Twitter? What?"

She looks down. Her jeans are missing. From top to bottom she has on a white T-shirt, a black thong and a pair of white sneakers. Nothing else.

"Eeeeeek! Where are my pants?"

Even if she wasn't a famous celebrity, it would be embarrassing. Emma looks left and right, beginning to panic. Wherever she looks, there are people taking pictures of her on their cell phones. She tries to run, but something's wrong. Her shoelaces are tied together. She bends down, trying to untie them, giving everyone a peek at her perky ass.

"Cool," says Joe, watching Emma struggle with the laces. She can't get them to budge. "Hey, I have an idea."

"What is it, my boy?"

"You're God. Don't you know everything?"

"Why, of course I do!" God whistles, and Emma's remaining clothes begin to shrink. Her white T-shirt gets tighter and tighter, revealing the fact that she's not wearing a bra. Soon her small breasts with their stiff, rosy nipples are visible through the sheer fabric. Her thong draws taut between her perfect buttocks, giving her a very uncomfortable wedgie as she shuffles down the street with her hands pressed to her chest and a blush rising in her cheeks. Everyone's looking at her. She's used to being the centre of attention wherever she goes, but not quite like this.

"No! Stop looking! Don't you know I'm famous!"

"Hey, look! It's Emma Stone! She's famous! Let's all look!"

"No!"

God raises his hand, and Emma is lifted into the air by the back of her extra-tight thong. She's hung by her underwear from a streetlight, leaving her to dangle in the air in the middle of a busy street in nothing but the thong and a tiny translucent T-shirt that stops just below her nipples, exposing most of her breasts to the open air. Joe picks up her cell phone, which she's dropped, and takes a few choice pictures of her, squealing and kicking and utterly unable to get down.

"I'm uploading these to her official Instagram account," he says. "Thanks, God. You're the best."