From high above the main amphitheatre, Satan sat drumming his fingers in boredom. For the fifth day running he’d presided over the usual lashings, disembowelments, brandings and general mayhem. He was sick of it and his dissatisfaction was evident to his snide lackey.
Alongside him, Jeffery sat clutching a big red book. He was a weasel of a man, greasy hair, small eyes and pointed nose – detested by many down in the cavernous underworld including Satan. He personally enjoyed the trips down here, taking a perverse pleasure in the horror that greeted the ‘regulars’. Cheering and hollering, he was a bit taken aback that his master wasn’t joining in.
“Something wrong my lord?” he asked.
“It’s hardly good cabaret, is it?” Satan sighed. “I’ve been sitting watching this crap for the last five days. So, pardon me, if the repetition is getting a little irritating.”
“We have a new bunch of investment bankers arriving at 3 o’clock. Turns out they were having an orgy, there was a slight gas leak and after they were done, they lit their cigars. BOOM!!!” Jeffery laughed heartily.
“Oh, bankers. How am I supposed to enjoy the torture, when they enjoy it even more??”
Satan rose from throne and walked off in the direction of his office. Jeffery scurried after him, still holding the big red book to his chest. His little legs moving twice as fast to keep up. Others flung themselves against the walls to avoid him knocking them down.... (TO BE CONTINUED)
There is a time when you have to go forwards. Things may not be as you wanted them to be but that's how it goes.
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Wanting my wife to let go and seduce someone, maybe even fuck their brains out while I film it.
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Wasn’t that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted.
Abraham Verghese, Cutting of the stone (via thequotejournals)
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