I have been the Devil’s assistant for nearly five years now. During that period of time, I have seen his mood range from joyous to maudlin to angry and everything in between. I have put up with the crankiness, the whining, and delusions of grandeur. But never have I seen him as depressed as this morning.
I finished preparing breakfast and Satan sauntered in, playing with his coarse chest hair. He was completely naked, his skin red and gleaming.
“No loin cloth this morning, huh, Satan?”
“What’s the point?” He switches his tail over to the side and sits down at the table.
“Depressed?” I ask.
“Shouldn’t I be?” He sullenly leans his head, supporting his cheek with his hand.
“What’s to be depressed about? I made bacon.”
“I just don’t think I’m scary anymore.”
“What do you mean? You’re being ridiculous.”
“Look at you. You’ve lived with me for almost five years. I haven’t eaten you. I haven’t stolen your soul. I haven’t really given you any discomfort at all.”
“Well, there was that time we went camping and your legs hurt. Remember? You made me give you a piggyback ride to the car.”
“Oh, that’s not what I mean.”
“You’re being rather cryptic.”
“I just don’t cause enough destruction. People don’t even do things in my name anymore. The worst deeds, the biggest atrocities, are done in the name of God.”
“You and I both know that God’s a shiftless bastard.”
“Do we? I used to think so. No, not anymore. Shiftlessness? That has to be me. Yesterday, I was going to put a demon in Mrs. Wilcox, over on Third, but I couldn’t even get out of bed.”
“So you weren’t feeling very well. We all have our bad days.”
“I’m supposed to make everyone’s day bad.”
“Look, you’ll get back on your feet.”
“Today! It must be today!”
“Eat your breakfast. I’m sure we can arrange something.”
After breakfast, the Devil wraps me up in duct tape with the anticipation of ripping it off later. Once I’m fully wrapped, we head to the park. The Devil wants to scare some children to try and get back into the swing of things.
It’s a beautiful day. We get there around noon and the park is very crowded. Initially, everything goes smashingly. Many of the children that see him clear out, terrified. A few others hang on until the Devil trudges up to them, stamping and yelling.
Things take a downward turn when one of the little shits runs up to his mother.
“Did that big red man make you cry?”
The child nods his head and wipes a tear from his cheek. She stalks up to the Devil. I am prepared to intervene and offer her cash to forget that it happened when the Devil tells me he can handle it by himself.
The woman shakes her finger in his face and says, “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but this kind of behavior is totally unacceptable. If you don’t leave immediately, I’m going to …” But the Devil doesn’t let her finish. He grabs her by the neck and pulls her toward him, quickly biting her head off and swallowing. Nonchalantly, he tosses the headless corpse to the side. He begins walking toward the child and I think, “Good God, he’s going to devour the child too.”
The Devil has to bend way down to talk to the child. He moves in so close to the boy’s face I feel he’s going to eat him for certain now. Instead, he only yells at the boy, “I just bit off your mother’s head! Now where are you going to go?”
The child runs off screaming and I breathe a sigh of relief. I go up to the Devil and say, “Hey, whaddya say we get out of here?”
He swishes his tail and we head away from the park.
Back in the apartment the Devil falls into another state of melancholy.
“Oh, come on, what’s wrong now?” I ask. “You had a good day.”
“Not good enough.”
“What are you expecting?”
“I’m just … so tired. That’s all.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“No. Not tomorrow.”
The Devil yawns, stands up, and heads to his bedroom.
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