I couldn’t have agreed more.
“A few decades back, I attended a human baseball game,” Lizard began, reminiscing with great fondness.
I was terrified.
“It was me and some buddies—Mr. Rogers, Kirk the Angel, a Vampyre named Wipe, and a Fairy called Jiminy. We walked into the park on a sunny September day and…”
Uncle Fucker raised his hand. Lizard acknowledged him.
“Is this the set up for a crappy joke?” he asked, confused. “I don’t do jokes. So, if it’s a joke, be prepared to be set on fire.”
“No joke,” Lizard assured him with a grunt of amusement as he smacked on his gum. “Kirk, Wipe, and Jiminy had been drinking for the prior three weeks straight. Bastards were soused. We all know Mr. Rogers is a teetotaler, and I only indulge on Tuesdays. It was difficult for the boys to tie one on but doable if one imbibes ten thousand beers.”
“What the actual fu…” I said, rolling my eyes. “Vamps can’t drink beer.”
“Wipe is ten thousand years old,” Lizard informed me. “Trust me, that dead man can drink.”
“Got it.” When I reached the ten-thousand-year mark, I would eat my own weight in doughnuts. “Keep going.” I had no clue how this related to Immortals being pussies or friends and would probably be no clearer on the subject once the story wasover, but now I was curious. Granted, curiosity killed the cat, but I was already dead. Win-win.
“It was the damnedest thing,” Lizard continued. “We’d snuck in and procured a few seats near the first base line after scaring the shite out of the season ticket holders.” He grinned and rolled his bat in his hands. “Wipe dropped fang and they skedaddled. Anyhoo, it was fun. And then… in the third inning Wipe caught a foul ball with his armpit!” Satan gasped and the gals cheered. I groaned. What was happening today? Lizard kept talking. He was the Energizer Bunny of weird. “Came at us fast—probably ninety miles an hour. I put my hand up to shield Mr. Rogers, but it bounced off my fingers breaking all fucking five of ‘em. Pointer’s still bent.” He held it up. It was bent. “Dang ball bounced off my hand and hit Jiminy square between the eyeballs leaving a big dent then looped to the right and knocked out Kirk’s teeth. Blood everywhere. It was still spinning fast. Wipe had raised his hands up, prepared to zap the ball to smithereens, but that dang ball was on a mission, and it didn’t help that Wipe was wasted. That ball’s mission was Wipe’s pit. It hit and lodged. Ain’t never seen nothing like it. Mr. Rogers was fine.”
Everyone, including me, made noises of relief. Mr. Rogers was the nicest person in the Universe. After Fred had died as a human, God gave him the very important job of manning Purgatory. The sweet man was a hero in both the Immortal and human world.
Again, I had no idea where this story was headed, but now I was invested. “More,” I insisted.
“Welp, Jiminy, in his inebriated state, felt like the ball should be his since his head was caved in and threw a fit because when he tried to yank the ball out of Wipe’s hairy pit, it was a no-go. That fucking ball was embedded deep. Wipe got pissedbecause Jiminy yanked out a good chunk of sweaty pit hair and proceeded to beat the daylights out of Jiminy.”
“Wonderful,” Satan said with a nod of approval. “Drunken violence is always a good time.”
“We like violence even without the drunk part!” Jane announced with pride, slapping Martha in the head.
Lizard winked at his gal pals. They both flashed a boob. I had no choice but to set them on fire. They laughed like loons as they smacked the flames out.
“Now, Kirk,” Lizard continued, “not wanting to be left out, joined the melee. It was a bloody good time. I got a few good cracks in with my bat and Mr. Rogers refereed. We got kicked out, but Fred kept us from getting arrested by signing a few autographs. That ball is still in Wipe’s pit to this day. Kirk’s teeth grew back, but Jiminy is still walking around with a dent in his head.”
Lizard popped another stick of gum into his mouth and took a bow.
I closed my eyes for a sec then asked a question that I probably didn’t want the answer to. “Umm… is there a reason you shared this story?”
“Fine point. Well made,” Uncle Fucker commented, looking as confused as I felt.
“Oh, right!” Lizard said, hitting himself in the head with his bat. The crack was so loud, I thought he’d concussed himself. It took him a good two minutes to find his train of thought again. “We went for ice cream after we got kicked out and, to this day, we still go to three baseball games a season together!”
“Still not getting it,” I told him.
“We’re friends,” he replied. “A Demon, a Vampyre, an Angel, a Fairy, and Mr. Rogers. We’re buds. Species don’t matter. And all of us except Fred were pussies that day. I was pissed about my fingers and moped. Wipe whined for a good year about theball stuck in his pit. Jiminy is still butthurt about his concave head and Kirk… Kirk is just a dick, but we still like him. So, the point is that we can all be pussies occasionally and still be friends.”
“Far too Hallmark for me,” Satan commented.
“I disagree,” I told him. “You’ll always be an asshole, but if you apologize, I can forgive you for trashing the Vamps.”
“I don’t apologize. Ever,” he informed me as if that was normal and something to be proud of. “And speaking of dicks, you will tell me who disparaged mine so I can end them after showing them how wrong they are.”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m not committing two Demons in London to death for talking about your teeny peeny.”
Satan threw a lightning bolt at me that would have smarted for the better part of a week. I dodged it and sent one back that would send his custom Armani suit to the garbage dump. He ducked. Lizard grabbed the gals and Connie and dove for cover. It was getting ugly.
“You’re the reason the middle finger was created,” I snarled as I sent a bolt of electricity aimed his hair.
