Chapter 11 Satan
SATAN
I purposely let the group walk ahead as we made our way back to the dumpster where the two over-endowed idiots were hiding out.
The random dismembered Vamp from the snooker parlor was now part of the entourage.
His name was Henderson, and his appendages had grown back.
He talked entirely too much. When he started blathering on about being no one’s emotional tampon, I avoided him like the plague so I didn’t set him on fire.
He’d clearly been through enough this evening already.
Engulfing him in flames seemed a bit overkill for the sin of being teeth-grindingly annoying.
Plus, I was feeling introspective and I didn’t like it.
It had been satisfying to rip the heads off the Fairy Gang.
I could still visualize the gang leader’s face right before the batshit insane Wipe had shoved the hot poker up his ass.
It was an inspired and incredibly repulsive move on Wipe’s part.
Right before the multiple-assholed Vamp had cooked the scum’s intestines, the Fairy’s smile had been tight, like his teeth were on probation.
Suffice it to say, the shit stain didn’t die with a smile.
I heartily approved. Good riddance to evil rubbish.
While I enjoyed the company of outstanding assholes like Wipe and Lizard, I despised assholes who killed needlessly for sport.
Murder of the innocent was repugnant to me.
It was the reason many souls deservedly ended up in the Basement of Hell.
Of course, I found it exhilarating to bestow a good electrocution or three when appropriate, but actual death?
Only when absolutely necessary, or when it was them or me.
Or, someone I cared about. Lately, I was caring about too many fucking people. It made my ass pucker.
My own behavior was making my ass pucker as well, which sucked.
I’d been appalled to find out why I’d punished Critter Steve and Trapper Rick.
Fucking purple pantaloons? It was ridiculous and mortifying.
Realizing that if I’d been in my own skin, I never would’ve been able to make it right—not that it could ever truly be made right—but being in Astrid’s skin allowed me to say things that I wouldn’t have said as me.
Hashing this out with the bastard Sogdroth seemed wise.
Maybe, I’d do a phoner. Was it possible to be decent without losing my reputation as a dick? I was so fucking confused.
“You okay, boss man?” Lizard asked quietly, dropping back to join me.
“Please tell me that I’m still a dick,” I said.
He grinned. “Sire, you’ll always be a dick. You’re the dickiest dick in the Universe.”
“Thank you, Lizard. I was a little worried that temporarily owning a vagina was making me a pussy.”
“Not gonna touch that messed up logic.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“The dick in you is ingrained, my liege. But dick without pussy thrown in is boring,” he explained as I winced at the analogy.
“It’s like if I’m watchin’ a comedy and it’s just joke after joke after joke.
It ain’t funny. You get me? You gotta throw in some pathos or tension or fornication or tap dancing in between the laughs.
Then the funny is funnier. It’s all about balance. ”
“Tap dancing?” I asked.
“Yep. Tap dancing,” he replied.
“I see.” I didn’t.
My friend slapped me on the back. “I knew you would.”
I stared at the Demon for a long moment and an idea hatched.
He was my friend. Wipe was his friend. Wipe presented himself as a bonkers-bananas asshole with a healthy dose of violent tendencies.
Would it be possible to have two friends?
Sogdroth would say yes. I wasn’t as sure, but it was worth an attempt.
“Lizard, do you think Wipe would enjoy playing dead in Times Square?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I believe he would. That fucker is always up for anything that skirts the line of legal and could get him thrown in the pokey. You want me to ask him?”
“I do.” Having Lizard and a Vamp with four assholes and a baseball embedded in his pit as my buddy group felt right. Sogdroth, that smarmy shite, would be proud.
Lizard ambled off to chat with Wipe and left me to my own thoughts. I had a lot of them.
The witch being here was unsettling. The feeling that she was working for my mother was forefront in my brain.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought. I was correct that she wasn’t to be trusted.
My opinion was that a thorough electrocution was necessary for the old crone’s utter disregard of orders.
There was no way Astrid would go for it.
She was still a pussy. Albeit, less of a pussy than I’d originally believed, but still a pussy.
“Hi Astrid!” Critter Steve gushed and he and Trapper Rick fell into step beside me.
For a brief moment, I was wildly confused as to why the Demon called me Astrid.
Thankfully, I didn’t correct him. That would have ended my life as I knew it.
I was me, but I was also her. Talking like Astrid was a challenge, but I would give it a try.
“Umm… yes? If you’d like to converse, go ahead.
If it’s interesting, I shall participate.
If it’s boring, I’ll say ‘huh’ and electrocute you.
” I thought that was fairly polite and Astrid-like.
I didn’t care if she agreed. She was inhabiting my body at the moment and there wasn’t an opportunity to check in.
Critter Steve was riding piggyback on Trapper Rick as he was still missing a good portion of his left leg. “We’d like you to know how much we admire you!”
I eyed him as we continued to make our way to the dumpster. “You don’t find me to be a pussy?”
“No, ma’am,” Trapper Rick assured me. “We think you’re a compassionate badass! The way you tore the heads off the Fairies with your bare hands was hot.”
“Sure thing,” Critter Steve agreed. “You’ve got the reputation of being fair, insane, deadly as shit and hot! It’s a real pleasure to know you.”
“And what do you think about Satan?” I inquired. While I didn’t enjoy being Astrid, at the very least, I could use it as an excuse to spy on people. “Is he hot?”
“He’s the most wonderful Demon in the Universe. Very hot,” Critter Steve told me. “Outstanding wank.”
“I agree,” Trapper Rick said. “His peen is excellent and large! My lord is as sharp as a scalpel and a hundred times as dangerous, but I do think he could use some extra therapy sessions with Sogdroth for his narcissistic tendencies.”
“I’ll second that,” Critter Steve said.
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.
Decapitating them after they’d spread the word that my cock was tiny to protect my son would be bad.
I knew that. I really did. However, they’d just called my cock both a wank and a peen.
That alone was dismemberment worthy. I was a dick, but not a bad dick.
It was excruciating, but I would not resort to violence… this time.
“I don’t think he’s a narcissist,” I ground out.
“Totally a narcissist,” Critter Steve assured me. “And a dick.”
“That was a compliment, right? The dick part?” I questioned.
“Absolutely,” Critter Steve said. “I aspire to be a dick like that.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked, pleased that my rep was intact. “Why don’t you two go and chat with Henderson. I think he needs a tampon.”
“On it, Astrid!” Trapper Rick said as he and Critter Steve trotted ahead.
I wanted to expel a breath. I wanted my cock and balls back.
I didn’t want to be wearing shit-brown gauchos and knee socks.
I wanted a lot of things. Mostly, I wanted to be me again.
I just needed to figure out how to get there.
If I was being honest, which was very overrated, I’d have to admit that I admired my niece.
Possibly, respected her… She’d handled being me in a tough situation outstandingly.
I’d been impressed. She’d done me better than I could have done me.
Shocking, but true. I wouldn’t have bothered to get to the bottom of the Critter Steve and Trapper Rick’s situation, and that would have been worse than sending them to the cesspits for saying my ass looked big.
Fuck. Was I a narcissist? Of course not. I was amazing.
A private talk with Astrid was in order. Lizard, Martha, Jane and the fucking witch knew what was up. Henderson and Wipe did not. Speaking freely wasn’t possible. Sending the two new Vamps on their way was now the mission.
“Wait! Hold the fuck on for a minute!” Martha said, grabbing her obscene bosom with her bony hands. “Can I keep the big ones?”
“Define keep,” Astrid said, squinting at the old fool.
Jane chimed in. “Well, if we go with pert C cups, maybe we could keep the Fs as backups.”
Astrid rolled her eyes. “How exactly would you keep them?”
“In the fridge,” Martha explained. “Melons always last longer when you put ‘em in the fridge. Read that in Good Housekeeping.”
“Pretty sure Good Housekeeping wasn’t talking about boobs,” Astrid said flatly.
She was close to zapping the crap out of them. I was in favor of watching a good electrocution, but we needed to converse. The goal was the removal of the Vamps who weren’t privy to the identity switch. Fighting about disgusting lady bumps wasn’t going to get us to our goal.
“No. Absolutely not,” I said. “You may not keep the unsightly bosoms in the fridge. The optics are foul. Plus, the stench of detached hooters would be debilitating.”
Jane and Martha exchanged concerned glances.
“That’s a fine point,” Jane said, sorrowfully. “I’m gonna miss these fuckin’ knobs, but I ain’t gonna miss falling on my face, ass in the air, like a porn star.”
“Word,” Martha agreed. “Connie, we’re ready for a set of smaller chesticles.”