Chapter 10 Astrid #2
As the Fairy went for my uncle, Wipe screeched like a banshee on a bad acid trip, then reared back and shoved the searing hot iron up the Fairy’s ass. He propelled the cattle prod with so much force that it came out of the Fairy’s mouth, conveniently beheading him at the same time.
I had never seen anything like that and never wanted to see that again. Even Uncle Fucker was shocked speechless. Only Lizard chuckled.
“Told ya Wipe’s insane,” he said, walking over and shaking the Vamp’s hand.
My mouth moved before my gray matter joined the process. “Can I see the ball in your pit?” I asked. Thankfully, I refrained from inquiring about the four assholes.
“With pleasure, Satan,” Wipe said, lifting his arm.
For a hot sec, I didn’t know why he’d called me by my uncle’s name. God, I was slow. Although, sure enough, there was a baseball in his hairy pit. I didn’t know why, but it was oddly satisfying and somewhat unsettling to see proof that Lizard’s stories weren’t bullshit.
“We need to help Critter Steve,” the real Devil in disguise commanded harshly. “The man is in fucking pieces. The ball and buttholes can wait.”
He was correct. And… he was thinking about someone other than himself. Unusual and amazing.
“Move,” I said, gently pushing him out of the way and kneeling down next to the mutilated body of Critter Steve.
He’d clearly taken the brunt of some of the blows during the short but violent battle.
The good thing was that his head was still attached.
He would heal. It might take some time, but he would eventually be back to himself. “Relax,” I told him. “It will be okay.”
“My liege,” he cried out, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.
Tears fell from his bruised and swollen eyes and mixed with the blood caked on his face.
“I’m sorry, oh great Satan. I spoke badly of your rod.
I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. Please spare me.
You may punish me how you see fit, but please spare my life. ”
I was Satan, not Astrid right now. I needed to act like it or I’d be stuck as the Devil forever.
Giving ourselves away at this point in the ridiculous game would be devastating.
Pushing away the impulse to hug the Demon close and rock him like I was his mother, I, instead, nodded curtly.
“I forgive you. There shall be no punishment.”
The real Satan, in an Astrid suit, gave me an approving nod then nudged me. I almost groaned. But a promise was a promise.
“Shortly, I shall show you my wank to prove its enormous size,” I choked out. “You will then be able to accurately spread the word that my peen is gargantuan.”
“Yes, your grace!” Critter Steve said. “Yes!”
“What about me?” came a small voice from behind the mostly intact bar.
It was Trapper Rick.
“Come here, Demon,” I said.
He crawled out. Trapper Rick was riddled with shards of glass from being tossed over the bar and bleeding heavily.
“I’m sorry too, my liege.”
I stared at the man for a long moment. He held his breath in terror.
“May I ask what the Fairy Gang had on you to make you spew such appalling untruths about my wanker? And who is the small one they threatened to kill? Is that you?” I asked, kind of proud of myself for actually sounding like my uncle.
“For the love of everything unholy,” Satan grumbled. “Cock or dick. It’s not a wanker or a wank or a fucking peen.”
It was all I could do not to laugh.
“Astrid is quite right,” I said, feeling silly talking about Astrid, who was me… while I was fake him. Whatever. I had to go with it. “I meant my royal, glorious, stupendous, tremendous, prodigious, astonishing, inconceivable cock.”
“That might have been a little much,” Satan said with an eye roll.
I turned my attention back to Trapper Rick. “Tell me. What did the Fairies do to make you disparage my junk? And who is the small one?”
The Demon held eye contact. It was impressive for such a terrified man. “They threatened your son’s life.”
“My son’s life?” Satan bellowed. “Those Fairy fuckers threatened my child’s life?”
“Umm… no,” Trapper Rick said, confused. “Not your son’s life, Astrid. They threatened Satan’s son. Told us if we didn’t say that the Devil had an inadequate dick, they would go to Hell and kill the child.”
I glared at Satan. The men he’d wanted to decapitate had been protecting his son.
I hesitated, but went with my gut. Dropping to one knee, I bowed to Critter Steve and Trapper Rick.
I heard Satan’s grunt of shock, but he didn’t try to tackle me, electrocute me or pull me to my feet. I took that as a win and kept going.
“I thank you for your service. My son is the light of my life. Your good deed shall be rewarded.” I looked up at my own face that was housing the real Satan for the time being. “How do you think these brave Demons should be rewarded?” I asked.
I watched Uncle Fucker’s brain work. It wasn’t standard for him to bestow rewards. He was more of a fire and brimstone kind of dude. But good deeds, no matter how strangely they were presented, deserved to be recognized.
“I think,” Satan said slowly. “That you should ask the men what they would like.”
“Knock my ass over with a feather,” Lizard muttered. “Pretty sure the temp in Hell just dropped a few degrees.”
Satan zapped him. Lizard laughed and slapped out the fire with his blonde bob wig.
“I think Astrid has an excellent idea,” I announced grandly. “Trapper Rick and Critter Steve tell me what you would like in return for putting your lives on the line for my son.”
The Demons exchanged surprised glances. I was positive when they woke up this morning, they hadn’t envisioned their day ending like this.
“I’d like to be allowed to go back to Hell,” Critter Steve said tentatively. “I’d like a cozy tract home with shag carpeting and a dog. Preferably a Labrador puppy.”
“Doable,” I said with a Devil-like nod. “And you, Trapper Rick?”
The Demon pulled a few of the bigger shards of glass out of his face and cleared his throat.
“I’d like to set up Critter Steve’s and my business in Hell.
And I, too, would like a tract home with shag carpet.
While I find puppies adorable, I prefer cats.
I would like to adopt a cat, or five cats.
Possibly ten. Even better, I would like my side gig to be the caretaker at a cat sanctuary. ”
Trapper Rick was a cat lady in disguise with a big heart. I liked the boys when I’d met them a month ago as myself, and I liked them today as… not myself. “I shall grant your requests. However, I do have a question. What is this business you’d like to run in Hell?”
Trapper Rick squatted down and gently pulled Critter Steve to a sitting position. I was happy to see he was already healing. “We trap critters—skunks, racoons, pole cats and the such. Hence our nicknames, Critter Steve and Trapper Rick. We call our company, Stank No More.”
“Yes,” Critter Steve confirmed, then shook his head in sorrow. “Sadly, the printer screwed up our business cards. They say, Skank No More. We’ve got fifty thousand of them.”
I sucked back a laugh. The man was seriously upset. “I’m quite sure that getting you new business cards will not be an issue.”
“Thank you, my liege,” he replied perking up.
“Have you crazy bastards ever been skunked?” Wipe asked, impressed with their chosen profession.
Trapper Rick chuckled. “Many times. But we don’t have a sense of smell. It was burned from our noses when we worked as night soil men.”
“What the fuck?” Wipe shouted, horrified. “You guys shoveled shit back in the olden days?”
They nodded. “For a century. It was our punishment.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Satan’s head fall to my chest. He slowly lifted his chin and approached the Demons. “What exactly did you do that you were sent to the cesspits?”
The two Demons glanced over at me with uncertainty. “Go on,” I insisted. “Tell Astrid what you did.”
I wanted to know as much as my idiot uncle wanted to know.
“Well, umm…” Critter Steve said carefully, keeping his eyes on the Devil who he believed to be me. “Satan had tried on some purple pantaloons and umm…” He looked to his buddy imploringly.
Trapper Rick jumped in even though it was clear it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Yes, the Lord of Darkness was modeling his purple pantaloons and umm… asked if his ass looked big.”
I sucked in a breath. There was no way…
“And,” Critter Steve continued with a pained wince. “We, unfortunately, were honest.”
Trapper Rick looked like he wanted to puke. “We told him his ass did look big and the rest is history.”
“Excuse me,” Satan hissed. He marched over to the far wall of the snooker parlor and blasted it.
The wall fell along with the rest of the building around us. No one was injured. We’d already been there and done that. The Devil marched back over and got in my face. “How could you have sent these men to the cesspits for something so fucking stupid?”
It took me a good minute to realize that Uncle Fucker was asking for help. He would never be able to truly apologize for such a terribly selfish and God-awful mistake… but I could. And he wanted me to.
I tilted my head and laced my hands together in front of me. I knew it had to sound like Uncle Fucker and not me. However, he’d asked me in the rudest way possible to fix his fuckup. I could do it my way and show him that doing the right thing wasn’t so bad.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “It appears that I grossly misjudged the situation. I must have been having a bad day, or perhaps, a brain aneurysm. I greatly regret what was done to you, and I’m sorry.”
“What?” Satan demanded. “That’s all you have to say, jackass?”
I shrugged and glared at him. “What do you think I should say, ass-face?”