Short Stories
Again there was a day
when the sons of God
came to present themselves
before the Lord,
and Satan
also came among them.....
And the Lord said
to Satan,
Whence have you come?
[Job 2:1-2]
***************************
(A humongously huge angel is
standing in front of the Doorway,
of the Throne Room. He is speaking
in a very authoritative, and
unrelenting tone. It's the kind
of tone that would have any humans
shaking in their tennis shoes,
and trying not to hiccup.)
"I said.......
PUT OUT THAT CIGARETTE!"
(Devil just smiles, obviously
delighted to be bothering
the extremely muscular,
and overwhelmingly
magnificent angel.)
"Yeah, yeah......keep your
pantywaists on, ANGEL."
(A long, expensively made cigarette is
stuck between devil's sensual
and beautifully formed lips. A very
pretty, sensuously slow
twirl of smoke drifts out
of his mouth. The smell is so
strong, it reaches to the very
depths of.... Hell.)
"NOW!"
(Devil is leaning, rather gracefully,
against the Doorway to the
Throne Room. His way is
barred by the Guard Angel:
the angel's powerfully built
arms are folded across his chest;
two Flaming Swords are stuck
in his angel belt. He moves
one sandaled, and winged foot
a half of an inch forward.)
"I said.....NOW!"
(Devil smirks.)
"Yeah, yeah.......
don't get your feathers all
in a huffy FLUFF, mr. ANGEL."
(Devil chuckles, but he slowly
flicks a couple ashes outside
the Doorway, before tossing it
under one polished shoe,
and crushing it, as if it
were one of his nauseatingly
sickening human assignments.
For a moment,
Devil thinks about blowing
his last bit of cigarette smoke
into the Guard-Angel's face......
and, then thinks the better of it.
Smiling again, he bows
dramatically.)
"Can I PASS.......NOW?"
[Guard angel pauses,
just long enough, to gaze
evenly into Devil's eyes.
Then, touching the holder
of one of the Flaming Swords,
he nods imperceptibly.]
"THANKS, mr. angel!
HEY...NEXT time, remind
me to bring you some
BUBBLE gum, from EARTH!
OKAY?"
[But, the Guard Angel is no longer
paying any attention. He is already
facing away from the Doorway,
arms still folded, and staring
straight ahead. The Flames
from both of his Swords make
no smoke, nor burnt smell.]
(Devil clears his throat, almost
inaudibly, before turning toward
the Throne Room. For just a
moment, an icy finger of panic
rises in his throat but Pride
instantly quells it.)
"So, BOSS!
HOW'S IT GOIN'?"
[An indescribably magnificent
river flows between the Entry
of the Throne Room, and the
Throne. Its depths are lightly
multicolored: almost shimmering.
It is making a gently undulating
sound, and is peacefully and gently
flowing. Devil, upon seeing
it again, curls his lips with
distaste. To mask his disgust
....and fear, he attempts humor.]
"Hey, BOSS?
(Smile!)
Can I take a DIP in this THING?
It looks just RIGHT, for SPLASHIN'
AROUND!"
[CALM GLANCE.]
"Dip one finger in it,
Satan.
[PAUSE.]
And, it will turn
to blood."
(Devil just frowns,
sarcastically. His
stomach, though,
has suddenly turned
a flipflop.)
[LONG SILENCE.]
[ATTENDING ANGELS
STAND AT ATTENTION.
THEIR FACES SHINE BRIGHT
IN THE LIGHT OF THE
LORD. SOME ARE CARRYING
MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.
SOME ARE HOLDING HUGE
SWORDS. AND, SOME....
ARE SIMPLY KNEELING
BY THE THRONE.]
(Devil smiles broadly,
and opens his arms wide,
showing more of his dramatics.)
"HEY!
I thought Ya CALLED ME
in, for a MEETING?"
[NOD.]
[TOTAL SILENCE ENSUES.]
"SO?
WHERE am I gonna SIT,
Boss?"
[CALM PAUSE.]
"You're not."
(Forcing himself to
smile, Devil calmly and
deliberately shoves both
hands into the pockets of
his black silk jacket. He
thinks about tapping one
foot, as if impatient and
bored.....but, then Pride
whispers that it might make
him appear too nervous,
so he stops. Devil realizes
if the Meeting takes too
long, his expensive shoes
will begin hurting his feet....
but Pride quells his thoughts,
again.)
"So.....WHAT'S this ABOUT,
anyway, Boss?"
(Devil thinks about pulling
out a stick of gum, but
again, he thinks the better
of it. He craves for another
cigarette; the smell of the
last one still lingers in his
nostrils, almost making
him giddy with longing.)
"I got THINGS ta' DO!"
[NOD.]
[LONG SILENCE.]
(Devil's mouth is full
of saliva from the
taste of the cigarette,
and nervousness. Involuntarily,
his voice emits a very tiny
squeak at the end of his
next question.)
"So......eh......what d'Ya
call me UP HERE for,
BOSS?"
"My servant (author's name)."
"Oh, HER?"
(Devil guffaws.)
That little speck 'a
sniffling....SNOT?
(Devil runs his fingers
through his thick, and
beautifully
coiffeured hair.)
Is THAT all, this is
ABOUT?"
(Devil laughs.)
"HEY!
I thought it was about,
like...
somethin' IMPORTANT!"
[SILENCE.]
[AN ANGEL, JUST APPEARING
AT THE DOORWAY OF THE
THRONE ROOM, KNEELS.]
[NOD.]
[ANGEL STANDS, AND
BRINGS FORTH A SCROLL
CARRIED ON A GOLDEN
PLATE. DELIVERING IT,
HE KNEELS ONCE MORE,
AND THEN BOWS OUT OF
THE ROOM.]
(Devil deliberately lets
his eyes follow the messaging
angel. He pulls his sweaty
hands out of his silk pockets,
and folds his arms thoughtfully.)
(Smirk!)
"Ya know...... BOSS?
You REALLY oughta try
EMAIL! It's a WHOLE
lot FASTER!"
[LONG SILENCE.]
(Devil feels a drop of
sweat fall into his right ear,
uncomfortably.
He longs to move his
right hand up, to flick it
away, but Pride stops him.)
[SILENCE.]
[ALL THE FACES OF THE
ANGELS ARE ON THEIR LORD.]
(Devil, feeling Envy
whispering in his other
ear, becomes impatient
for attention.]
"HEY!
Come ON!
Remember ME?
Should I just GO?
Or WHAT?"
[LONG PAUSE.]
"You will go."
[PAUSE.]
"When I say go."
(Already desperately wishing
for a big comfortable
upholstered chair,
or even a little wooden straight
chair.......or even a tiny step stool,
Devil sucks in a cigarette-tasting
breath. Immediately, he
feels another salty drop of
sweat land in the same ear.
He flinches. Pride rebukes him.)
"Uh....
SURE, BOSS!
Whatever Ya SAY!
So.....eh, what d'Ya wanna KNOW?
HEY!
I've been doin' my BEST,
to keep her AWAY from YOU!"
[NOD.]
"HEY!
I'm doin' everything I CAN!
(Devil frowns ruefully,
rubbing the palm of his
less sweatier hand against
one beautifully sculptured,
high cheekbone.)
But...... even when she's real
MAD at You, she won't
stop TALKIN' to YOU!
It's so AGGRAVATING!
The worst is when she's
WRITIN' about You!
(Devil grips his stomach,
in a dramatic show
of gastric disgust.)
ECH!
I'm TRYIN' to get her
to write about OTHER
stuff!
But...she WON'T!
Could Ya give me
some POINTERS?
How could I make it
WORSE for her?"
[PATIENT FROWN.]
"What am I doin' WRONG?"
(Devil, in a moment of honest
emotion, screws up his handsomely
carved nose in a true grimmace.
Pride hits him in the stomach,
with a stab of nausea.)
"Ya know.......I kind of ENJOY
all those SASSY, SARCASTIC
REMARKS, and JIBES,
she MAKES to You,
BOSS!
(Smile!)
"Especially, when she
blows those RASPBERRIES
up at the CEILING!"
(Laugh!)
"And....when, she
shakes both her PUNY FISTS
up at the CEILING FAN!"
(Devil slaps his thigh
with more laughter.)
"How about when she pokes
FUN at Your WORD? HA!
Remember what she said
about GOMER*:
'Hey, LORD?
Why d'Ya NAME her
after GOMER PYLE?
Where was she BORN?
In MAYBERRY?'
(Devil spits with more laughter.
Then, he smiles ruefully.)
Only........!
(Devil sighs, from the lingering
twinge of nausea, as well as
from desperation. He had thought
this tiny twit of a tiddle-bit
was gonna be, well: a piece a'
CAKE...but, she was turning
out to be more trouble,
than she was definitely WORTH.)
[CURIOUS LOOK.]
"Only what,
Satan?"
"Well.......
(Devil grimmaces again;
then, he can't help but
chuckle a little.)
I don't GET IT!
The MORE You let
me DO to her......!"
[CURIOUS SMILE.]
"Yes?"
(Devil pauses, for a moment
painfully aware of his polished
right shoe pinching the corner
of his big toe. Without thinking,
his big eyes glance longingly
about for one chair, in the
whole Throne Room. Naturally,
there is none, save The Throne.
All of the angels are either
hideously kneeling, or standing
at attention. Darn! Then,
Pride takes over. Devil shifts
his dark gaze back at the Throne.)
"The more she wants ta'
TALK to YA! Even her
CURSES at You, are kind'a FUNNY!"
(Devil shakes off the moment
of self-doubting conversation,
and allows Pride to take
over, once more.)
"She's such a
USELESS TWIT,
Boss! Why are Ya
lettin' me WASTE my
PRECIOUS time and
TALENTS...... with
HER, ANYWAY?"
[GENTLE GAZE DOWN
AT EARTH.]
[SMILE.]
"Perhaps
I just like to hear
her talk
to Me."
*************************
And the Lord
said to Satan,
Behold,
he is in
your power;
only spare
his life.
[Job 2:6]
____________________
*Gomer: the harlot
wife, whom the prophet
Hosea [Hosea, OT]
was commanded by the
Lord, to marry.
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