Hell was a lovely place this time of year. Although it shouldn’t be confused with a perceived hell, being stuck in traffic while driving the carpool is not hell. It may appear to be, but it isn’t. The vehicle you drive may seem to be full of eight-year old demons with mouths full of chocolate spittle as they wrestle in the back seat with the air-conditioner broken and progress down the multi-lane super highway grinds to a sweltering halt and aspirations of vehicular manslaughter dance in your vision; or being stuck in an elevator for several hours with an over-weight whoever whom previously took the liberty of eating their own, and another’s, body weight in boiled cabbage, sauerkraut all soaked in rancid beer suds, and now with an intestine full of foul paint-stripping pockets of pus seeping out of pores and orifices alike, secretly alleviates the pressure by silent jettisons of sticky, vomit inducing aroma, turns to you and passes a vile glance that suggests you should feel ashamed of relieving the mass of Hiroshima’s revenge in such a tight place.
I am referring to the actual hell. Demons, flying go-getters and IRS tax accountants. Fire, brimstone and children’s tears fashioned into gumdrops.
How did I end up here? It’s a long story, but I made sure I would be chosen. Excelled in every devious art and even did a little work pro-bono. Wanted to make sure my name was on the list.
I never knew why people wanted that other place. A string quartet, gaudy light and stuck-up bible thumpers giving sermons on how they are better than you isn’t my idea of heaven.
I prefer it here. The people know how to have a good time, but the music is still awful – I prefer jazz. As for the bible thumpers, I didn’t get away from them. However, I get to do what everyone wants to do; poke them with sharp pointy sticks.
It’s a blast; the older demons let me help torment the ‘sinners’. Here, if you accidentally kill someone, it’s not a bad thing, like when I worked for the company, its encouraged. No one will complain about lawsuits over human rights. There was a lawyer I tortured to death with the company, and I killed him again, repeatedly. It was so beautiful, Memnon, the demon, shed a tear. Who said Hell wasn’t a great place?