Beelzebub belched and threw the empty carton labeled “fire-roasted souls” out the window of his nuclear-powered chariot. His stomach temporarily sated, he stepped on the gas; there was fun to be had somewhere, and money burning a hole in his pocket.
Hell’s casino had failed to satisfy his addictions recently but it seemed like a good place to start. At least there would be plenty of liquor and proximity to all the hedonistic delights he was accustomed to consuming. Mammon would be there in his usual position at the craps table, and occasionally Asmodeus would show up and goad them into spending money at the gentleman’s club.
He strode into the casino bar to procure his first of many drinks for the night, grabbing pretzels by the handful and stuffing them into his mouth. He was surprised to see Belphegor sitting at the bar with a preening Lucifer. Belphegor appeared to be drooling in his half-sleeping state, Lucifer was flexing his muscles for every passer by and boasting loudly about his latest acquisition of prideful souls.
Beelzebub acknowledged them as he passed, heading through clusters of souls around black jack tables. Someone jumped up gleefully and reached to collect his winnings, only to burst into flame, screaming in pain. Amon sat in some corner of the room making sure all of Hell’s patrons remained miserable.
He located Mammon at a table with Asmodeus and Leviathan. Asmodeus had his usual harem of lusty souls like a halo around him. The attention he was getting and giving had Leviathan seething. Beelzebub squeezed into a chair at their table and ordered a few more drinks. Lucifer joined them shortly, continuing with his boastful verbosity while brushing lint off his neatly pressed suit. When the drinks arrived, the tight fisted Mammon grabbed a glass and ignored the tab, counting out a roll of greedy souls but then tucking it back into his pocket. Lucifer, the slicker, pulled several extra souls from his money clip and casually tossed them on the table.
This show of excess was too much for Leviathan. He looked at Lucifer through slitted eyes, rising to his feet and spitting through his teeth. He grabbed Lucifer by the collar, ripping the money clip out of his hand and pocketing the souls for himself. If he couldn’t have Lucifer’s looks, no one should, he thought, as he gathered himself to smoke him.
All the souls around the table ignited and fled, as Amon stepped in. No fight was going to happen without him involved. Before the demons around the table had time to react Amon had raged towards them and burned them all.
A belligerent Beelzebub rose from the ash and headed towards Hell’s kitchen. If it was going to be this kind of party, at least he could find some marshmallows.
No comments:
Post a Comment