“Never,” I said flatly.
“No worries, but it’s fabulous! Anyhoo, your turn, Daisy,” he announced, cupping his junk like it was the Holy Grail.
With one last glance around to make sure my wish hadn’t shown up, I went for it. “I wish the former Higher Power would join us for a chat.”
“DONE,” Shitty Ritchie squealed. “I wish that Fake Tom Hanks would appear. He may not have any cookies. Those are MINE.”
Again, the crystals arrived and with it… the very pissed off person I’d come to see. It no longer looked like Tom Hanks. It was in Its true form—eye-blindingly beautiful on the outside. However, there was something off. The being was here, but small sections of Its body were transparent, showing how rancid It was on the inside. It was very possible that the Higher Power was dead. Not dead-dead as in Shitty Ritchie had chewed him into a gelatinous pulp, but dead as in ghostly dead.
I wasn’t sure. Unless I chose to let It out, there was no way to know for certain. Taking that risk wasn’t on the table right now. But, if It was now a ghost, the former Higher Power wasn’t a threat to anyone.
I was going to play it as if It was still alive. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.
The horrible being vibrated with rage. Calling the thing Tom Hanks would no longer work. The real Tom Hanks was the nicest man in showbusiness. This thing was despicable.
“Where am I?” It ground out.
It was difficult to tell if I was being played or if It didn’t understand what had happened. The truth was easier to remember than lies. I’d stick to the truth… for now.
“In Shitty Ritchie’s mind,” I replied, watching It carefully.
It threw Its head back and laughed. The sound was eerie and bounced around the floorless room making me shiver.
“We shall leave this place now,” It demanded. “And you shall be punished.”
Even though I felt safe, being around It was unnerving. Old habits were hard to break. It was still terrifying.
“Not happening,” I said, holding the furious gaze of the being who’d created so much pain and suffering. “You know why you’re here.”
For the briefest of seconds, I saw confusion in Its expression. It was fleeting, but it was there. I had the upper hand.
It came back at me stronger. “I will destroy everything you hold dear,” It snarled. “Trust me on that.”
“Trust.” My voice was cold. My expression was hard. “Trust is the belief in reliability. It has to be earned. I’d have to say, you’re not a trustworthy person.”
Again, It laughed. The sound was a fraction less ominous than before.
“We’re going to talk,” I explained. “You have the chance to earn a few points if you’re agreeable.”
“You don’t make the rules, Angel of Mercy,” It bellowed. “I do.”
“Did,” I corrected. “Not now. Not here. You had your time. You blew it. It’s over.”
It leveled me with a glare so vicious that I heard Shitty Ritchie gasp. I felt like doing the same, but kept my expression schooled to neutral.
“Do you have a name?” I asked. It was a person. At one point I would guess It had a name. I couldn’t imagine it came out of the womb or got hatched with the name, Higher Power.
“That is none of your business,” It said, looking bored.
“You sure about that?” I shot back.
Its eyes narrowed. “Quite.”
I shrugged and smiled. “Give It a name,” I told Shitty Ritchie.
The little guy cackled. “Hmmm…” he said, tapping his pointer finger on his lips as he considered his options. “Cheese Dick is already taken. Maybe, we should call It, Goober.”
“I think not,” the thing snarled. “I am the Higher Power. You shall address me as such.”
