Chapter 11 Satan #2
“I’m really gonna pine for my sweater meat,” Jane said, slapping her bosom so hard everyone winced. “But all big chest puppies have to go back to Gazonga Heaven at some point. Maybe we could perform a funeral for the tatas.”
“Not happening,” Astrid said, pressing her temples and holding onto her sanity by a thread.
“We need to get to Oklahoma ASAP. You’re worthless in a battle with the mongo fun-bags.
While it was very… umm generous and extremely shortsighted of Connie to curse you with ginormous jugs, they have to go. ”
“Darling Martha and Jane.” Connie Raven Enid Delacroix pulled her wand out. “Not to worry. If you’d ever like the F cups back for a special occasion, I shall be at your service!”
Martha squealed. “I was thinkin’ the fleshbulbs might be good when we go on tour.”
“Yesssss!” Jane screamed. “That’ll sell some fuckin’ tickets along with our stellar singing!”
“Not,” I muttered.
“Roger that,” Astrid agreed with a pained chuckle.
“Are you ready, ladies?” Connie Raven Enid Delacroix inquired.
The nodded their sparsely haired heads.
“Goodbye, Romeo and Juliet,” Martha said, caressing her chest.
“Goodbye, Bonnie and Clyde,” Jane added, giving each a loud thwack.
“Oh my God.” Astrid groaned. “You named them?”
“They have their own fuckin’zip code, Hootie McMammary. Of course, we named them,” Jane told her.
I laughed. It was unexpected and felt bizarre.
Cleansing, even. Wipe and Lizard joined me.
Jane and Martha followed. Then, Connie and Henderson.
Astrid was the last to participate, but she laughed the hardest. Maybe Lizard was right.
Adding a little misguided and absurd sorrow in between the funny or dramatic brought balance.
I considered doing a tap dance, but thought better of it.
The witch stepped forward with her wand extended. She smiled at the old gals and waved the magic stick in a circular motion. In a flash of lavender crystals, the eye sores disappeared. The idiots now looked normal, or as normal as they could look.
“Lookin’ sexy ladies,” Lizard said, giving his mates a thumbs up.
They giggled and jumped him. The sloppy kissing was loud and unappetizing. The group, en masse, walked about fifty feet away at a quick clip. No one wanted to watch that.
“I think it’s time for Henderson and Wipe to be on their way,” I announced. “We have private business to discuss.”
“Agreed,” Astrid said. “Wipe, it’s been a pleasure. Henderson, it was nice to meet you. You both have an open invitation to visit the Cressida House at your leisure.”
Both of the Vamps looked confused. No wonder. The body and voice of Satan had just invited them to the Vampyre compound. I gave my niece the eyeball and she slapped her hand over my mouth.
“No! I meant Hell,” she amended between splayed fingers. “You have an open invite to Hell. My bad.”
“Actually,” I cut in. “Wipe can visit Hell. Henderson and his tampon are not welcome.”
It was Astrid’s turn to give me the evil eye. We were batting zero at the moment.
Lizard, done with his horrifying make-out session, jumped in to the failing word vomit. That was usually a terrible thing, but at the rate Astrid and I were going, Lizard’s special kind of strange was welcome.
“Before Wipe and Henderson skedaddle, I wanted to ask Wipe if he had anymore luck with them dates?”
Both Astrid and I turned to look at Connie. She made the international zip the lip sign and shrugged. The witch was definitely in cahoots with my mother. Eventually, they would all pay heavily for this bullshit. It was clear she wasn’t going to talk.
Wipe scratched his head and grinned at Astrid, who was me.
“Welp, I’d like to start my parting monologue with a formal acceptance to play dead in Times Square on Friday.
I’d also like to point out that there’s a Yankees baseball game that evening.
If we get out of the morgue in time, I’d suggest we make the seventh inning stretch our bitch.
The head camera dude is an Angel who owes me a fuck ton of money and I can make him put our fake deaths on the jumbotron. It’ll be epic!”
I screamed. It was involuntary. I’d been correct about adding Wipe to my friend tree. He was a genius.
Astrid closed her eyes for a long moment, but did me a solid. It was heartening that she didn’t laugh or give me shit. Instead, she nodded at Wipe. “Excellent. It’s a date.”
My esteem for my niece went up.
“Alrighty then,” Wipe continued. “Those dates are still giving me gas. I’ve been searching high and low and keep coming up empty.”
“May I be of assistance?” Henderson inquired. “I’m an encyclopedia of useless information. Maybe, I can aid you in your quest. Also, if it isn’t any trouble, I’d quite enjoy playing dead in Times Square and at the Yankees game too. I adore the tight pants.”
Wipe glanced over at Astrid who was actually me. Astrid deferred to me, who was wearing her skin. Confusing didn’t even begin to cover it. I rolled my eyes then nodded curtly. He could come, but if the imbecile brought up tampons during the outing, I’d dismember him.
“We’d be pleased to have your company on the lawless fieldtrip,” she said, biting back a grin.
“Wonderful!” Henderson said. “Tell me the mysterious dates.”
“December 17th, 1976 and August 6th, 2003,” Wipe supplied.
Henderson’s brow wrinkled in thought. He walked in a circle then hopped from one foot to another for approximately ten minutes. We watched in perplexed silence.
“Oh!” he finally screeched making everyone jump. “I believe I know.”
I froze. Astrid froze. In the Immortal world coincidences were rare. Had the emotional tampon been placed in our paths on purpose?
“Freaky Friday!” he shouted, pumping his fists over his head. “My favorite movie of all time next to Showgirls and Sense and Sensibility.”
I spared a quick glance at the witch. Her expression was unreadable—an excellent poker face. If the tampon was correct, she wasn’t letting on.
“Could you be more specific?” Astrid asked. Her voice was tight just like my asshole at the moment.
“Oh yes,” Henderson replied. “The original Freaky Friday came out in the theatres on December 17th, 1976, starring Jodie Foster and Barbara Harris in the lead roles! It was directed by Gary Nelson and written by Mary Rodgers based on her 1972 novel.” The Vamp preened.
“I will share that I obtained Mary Rodgers’ autograph at a book convention back in the day.
Thrilling! Anyhoo, the supporting cast included John Astin, Patsy Kelly and Dick Van Patten, among others.
” The female sanitary product loving Vamp clasped his hands together and shuddered with delight.
“August 6th, 2003 was the release date of the remake of Freaky Friday starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan. They were supported by Mark Harmon, Chad Michael Murray, Harold Gould and a bevy of other wonderful actors and actresses.”
“How in the fuck is Freaky Friday connected to anything?” I bellowed.
Astrid held up a hand, indicating that the time to lose my shit wasn’t now.
“Tell me the plot, please,” she said to Henderson.
“With pleasure!” he promised. “Okay, we have a mother and a teenage daughter who are at odds with each other. The original and the remake handle it differently, but the idea is the same. The disconnect is driving them insane. A comedy bonanza! Sooooooo, after an argument they simultaneously wish to switch places and BOOM! They do. Hijinks and hilarity ensue.”
“Mmkay,” Astrid said. “How do they switch back?”
I leaned forward. The light at the end of the tunnel was finally in sight.
“They hug,” Henderson replied. “Well, after they’ve walked a few miles in each other’s shoes and learn to appreciate each other. Simply beautiful. If you haven’t seen it, put it on your watch list.”
“Why should we watch it if we’re fucking living it?” I muttered.
Astrid zapped me. I slapped the fire out and saluted her in thanks. If I fucked up so close to the finish line, I’d be pissed.
We both let our gazes fall on Connie. The dumbass witch just grinned and winked.
“I should be going,” she said, linking arms with Wipe and Henderson. “Would you boys like to accompany me to another snooker parlor? I never did get to show you my prowess with balls.”
Wipe blushed a deep pink. “Was that a double entendre, witchy woman?”
She giggled. “Guess you’ll have to find out, Wipey.”
I almost gagged. Attraction was blind. It was no skin off my ass if Wipe banged the witch. It was rank, but it didn’t concern me as far as my budding buddy-ship with Wipe. Hell, Lizard was mated to Martha and Jane. One couldn’t get more blind than that.
“Just a heads up, I’m gay!” Henderson volunteered, taking a bow.
“But I do love a good game of snooker and my I’m quite good with balls if anyone needs tips.
” The emotional tampon threw his head back and laughed.
Everyone joined him… even me, much to my surprise.
He was a lot, but he’d solved the riddle and was up for playing dead.
Henderson was fine in my book, but if he brought up tampons again, I’d have to electrocute him.
“I guess that’s settled then,” Connie announced, then added. “If you need me, I’m only a spell away.”
The mentally insane witch snapped her fingers and conjured up a super-sized broom. The trio climbed aboard and flew off into the London night laughing like fools.
Strangest thing I’d ever witnessed. And I’d seen strange in my time.
Astrid approached. “Should we hug?” she asked. Her voice was filled with anxiety.
“What if it doesn’t work?” I asked, feeling somewhat lightheaded.
She blew a raspberry and shrugged. “Not sure, Uncle Fucker.”
My niece began to pace. Most Immortals did their best thinking that way. I joined her.
“Do you respect me?” she asked, picking up her speed as we circled what was left of the snooker parlor.
“I think I do,” I admitted. “What you did with Critter Steve and Trapper Rick was rather inspired. You made me look good. So, yes. I respect you. I still think you’re a pussy, but I’m coming to realize that pussy does have a place in society.”
“Mmmkay, thank you… I think.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
I put my hand on her arm and paused our forward motion. “Do you respect me?”
She winced. “Still trying to get past that you sent the guys to the cesspits for saying your butt looked big.”
“Join the fucking club,” I muttered. She didn’t respect me yet. Again, honesty was overrated bullshit, but I wasn’t sure I’d respect me either right now. I still owned the fucking purple pantaloons. I’d burn them when I got back to Hell. “I don’t have a good feeling about the hug.”
“Because you hate physical affection?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. It might be premature. If we only get one chance to revert back to ourselves with a hug, we can’t blow it.”
“I see where you’re going with that. It would be devastating to trip on the last curve before the finish line.”
“Ya think?” I asked with an eye roll. “I’m over the vagina thing.”
“And I could live a lot happier without your wank,” she shot back with a laugh. “What do we do?”
I considered her words. “We go to Oklahoma and deal with the problems at hand. That’s what we do.”
She nodded slowly and placed her hand in mine. It felt nice to hold my own hand.
“We can’t go to Oklahoma looking like American tourists,” she pointed out with a laugh.
“No,” I replied with a shudder, looking down at the shit brown gauchos. “That would be unwise. Shall we rejoin our whack job of an army and remedy the issue?”
She grinned. “Yes, we shall.”
I enjoyed my dick. My wife enjoyed my dick.
I was a dick.
A dick who needed to earn my niece’s respect.
Astrid had my respect. Now, I needed hers. I wasn’t sure how to attain that goal, but I would die trying if necessary. The alternative was unthinkable. Having a vagina until the end of time wasn’t going to work out well for me.
I would succeed.
I was the Devil, and the Devil always won.