Mother Nature stared at us without saying a word. It was more terrifying than being zapped with a lightning bolt. Needing to get to a resolution with Uncle Fucker was paramount. If Gigi set the punishment, I was sure we’d bescrewed. She once took Satan and God’s powers away and stranded them without money or phones in the middle of nowhere because they couldn’t get along. Her wrath was no joke.
I had one goal. Hopefully it was doable. Satan was a dick, but surely, he’d not be dumb enough to pass up the offer of us coming up with our own penalty for bickering and electrocuting each other.
“You have something better?” I demanded.
“Of course, I do. I’m the Devil. I’m brilliant,” he snapped, rolling his eyes so hard I saw the whites. “We could… well… umm…”
He was reaching. The Devil spared a quick glance at his frighteningly calm mother and freaked. Inspiration, or more possibly desperation, hit him like a bolt of his mother’s lightning. His eyes glowed red and he smirked. I had really, really,reallya bad feeling.
“Astrid and I could go to the movies and play dead in the front row,” Satan announced grandly, much to the perplexed expressions of the group. Mother Nature didn’t seem impressed. He continued talking and digging his hole deeper. “Not immediately. We shall wait for the most adventitious moment.” He had everyone’s attention. He loved being the center of attention and kept going like a freight train that had careened off the tracks and was headed for the Basement of Hell. “Of course, it would be terrific if we choked each other to fake-death during the opening scene of the movie—lots of screaming and flailing. Swearing is outstanding as well. I’d highly recommend we choose a romantic comedy on a Saturday evening to do the deed. More likely to have a full house. The patrons of such garbage would be sure to react wonderfully. As soon as the paramedics and police arrive, we miraculously come back to life. We could transport out of the cinema, but I find sprintingaway to be more satisfying. Also, wearing sweatpants and tennis shoes is a good plan. Oftentimes, blood is shed and I despise ruining designer clothes.”
The silence was long as we all pondered the bonkers words that had just come from the Devil’s mouth. It wasn’t even a punishment. It was a fucked-up fever dream of a deranged jackass. The realization that Uncle Fucker might have just outed himself for being a colossal dumbass was evident when he groaned and let his head fall back to his shoulders.
“Wait.What?”I asked, squinting at him in shocked disbelief. “That was far too detailed, dude. Have you actually done that? I mean, that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Of course, I have not done that, dingleberry jackhole,” he hissed, obviously lying through his teeth. “However, it’s much better than your pussy Vampyre suggestion of hugging it out. I must say, you give idiots a bad name.”
Forgetting that name calling and bickering were exactly what we were in trouble for, I shot back. My lips moved before my brain kicked in. “Well, Mayor of Stupidtown, if ignorance is bliss, you must be freaking ecstatic.”
Clearly, my uncle had the same ‘speak first think after’ issue as me. “Actually, Butt-trumpet, if zombies ate your brain, they’d starve.”
“Interesting, Duke of Dork,” I ground out. “If you doubled your IQ, it would be zero.”
“Aren’t you adorable, Captain Cringe,” he bellowed. “Kind of like a mongrel dog who sniffs his friends’ asses for entertainment.”
“Fine, Creepy Butt Pilot,” I volleyed back. “I thought about you earlier, it reminded me to take out the trash.”
Satan began to glow dangerously. My fingers were shooting sparks. We were ready to rumble. Only problem with that was Mother Nature beat us to the explosion. The zap was loud. Thepain was intense. Both Satan and I were now missing our arms. Setting each other on fire was off the table. Granted, we were already on fire… Our arms were growing back, but the point had been made.
“It’s looking abundantly clear that I’m going to have to set the penalty,” Mother Nature announced with a put upon sigh. “Neither of you appreciate each other and that ends today.”
The Devil tried to raise his hand. That part hadn’t grown back yet. He raised a stump. “I have had a moment to rethink. Hugging it out is mostly acceptable to me,” he said, doing his best not to wince in disgust and failing.
“Too little too late,” Mother Nature replied coolly.
Crap. “How about… umm… giving each other piggy back rides?” I threw the ridiculous suggestion out there in total desperation.
Uncle Fucker tossed me an excellent eye roll, but hopped on the desperation train with me. “We could also sup together in Nirvana,” he said, looking green around the gills. “You could cook for us, Mother.”
The Arbiter of Evil looked like he wanted to cry.
“Boobs McHooters can’t eat,” Martha reminded everyone from her position on the floor. “She’s dead.”
“Right!” Satan slapped himself in the forehead. “My bad.”
He glanced over at me with terror in his eyes. I understood because I felt the same way. I went for it.
“We could have… umm… playdates,” I tried.
“Yes! Playdates,” Satan shouted. “We could play choo-choo and work on potty training.” He was pulling the activities he did with his toddler son out of his ass.
Whatever. I wasn’t doing much better.
“Yes,” I yelled, knowing we were sinking fast if Mother Nature’s blank expression was anything to go by. “And make arts and crafts.”
“And give them to homeless people,” Uncle Fucker bellowed in triumph.
Mother Nature’s perfectly plucked left eyebrow raised slightly. Maybe we were getting somewhere.
