Delightful Dessert Or Passive Aggressive Death Threat?

Ever wish you were a fly on the wall at The House on the Hill, Modern Philosophers?

Well, here’s an actual conversation that took place tonight between The Devil and I as we sat on the couch and watched the season finale of Major Crimes.

Maybe now you’ll understand why my toga is always in a bunch…

 

The Devil: You know, if you don’t want me here, you can just come out and say it.

Me: (confused) What are you talking about?

D: Like you don’t know.  You’re so passive aggressive.

M: Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

The Devil slammed down his bottle of Snapple on the table, and gave me the kind of look that I’m sure he’d used many a time to scare a person out of his soul.

D: What is that you’re snacking on?

M: (innocently) A cookie.

D: Want kind of cookie, Toga Boy?

M: Ummm…a devil’s food cookie.

D: And you don’t see how I might take offense to that???

To be honest, Modern Philosophers, I hadn’t given it any thought.  They were on sale, fat free, and I grabbed a box as I was heading up to the checkout counter.

M: It wasn’t meant to offend you.  I didn’t know you’d be here when I bought them.

D: Yet you knew I was here when you went out into the kitchen, grabbed the box, and brought them in here to devour.  Thanks for asking me if I wanted anything while you were up, by the way.

M: (growing irritated) You always help yourself to whatever you want!

D: But you could still be a good host and ask!

M: You’ve got to be kidding me.  Please tell me this is one of your devilish acts of mayhem.

D: Do I look like I’m kidding?

In fact, he did not.  He looked pretty pissed, which he had no right to be.  I hadn’t invited him, he was making himself at home, and I had a right to eat what I wanted in my house!

M: You know what?  You can go the Hell if you don’t like my snack choices.

There was a very long pause here, during which time, I took a defiant bite out of a cookie.

D: That was actually pretty funny.  You’re a witty guy.  Maybe you should be a writer.

The Devil finally smiled, picked up his Snapple, and took a long sip.

M: You really had me going there.

D: Oh, I wasn’t joking.  I really feel like every time you bite into one of those cookies, you are subconsciously acting on the aggression you feel towards me.

M: Maybe I am.  Who knows.  Still coming over for the games tomorrow?

D: You know it.  Do you have any idea how many people offer to sell me their souls just to see their team make it to the Super Bowl?  Tomorrow is going to be a big day for this guy.

M: I’m making deviled eggs, deviled ham, and serving devil dogs for dessert.

D: I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I don’t want you hounding me for all eternity.

Another relaxing Saturday night at The House on the Hill.  Don’t you wish you were here?