The Devil’s Review Of Hell On Earth

“The whole reason I come up here is to get some time away from Hell,” The Devil whined as he plopped down onto the couch next to me.

In his hand, he held the bag of Humpty Dumpty BBQ Chips that I thought I had hidden really well behind the cat food in the cabinet above the fridge.

“Really?” I quipped and then winced as he opened the chips.  “I thought you visited to eat  my food and drink my Snapple.”

Lucifer gave me one of his “the weight of Hell is on my shoulders, so don’t screw with me” looks.  “Happy New Year to you, too.  I had hoped that one of your New Year’s Resolutions was to be a better host.”

I almost did a spit take with the Snapple in my mouth, but I really didn’t want to waste any of The Best Stuff On Earth…especially not with my house guest chugging it down like a frat boy on dollar pitcher night.

“I’m so sorry for being rude,” I said in my warmest, most sarcastic tone.  “What’s wrong, little buddy.  What’s got your horns all spiky tonight?”

He made a point of taking a giant handful of potato chips and stuffing them into his mouth.  Then he chewed them, with his mouth open, as little crumbs danced around in his goatee.

“Last night, I visited Hell on Earth,” The Prince of Darkness explained after washing down the chips with half a bottle of Snapple.  “It wasn’t as fun as actual Hell, though, since it was freezing, reeked of urine and body odor, and no one was bowing before me and referring to me as Master.”

Now I understood.  “You went to Times Square for the ball drop?”

The Devil nodded.  “Every year I tell myself I’m going to go, but I’m usually too busy on New Year’s Eve.  As you might expect, people get desperate and very drunk, and are always willing to trade their soul for some earthly possession that will do them absolutely no good in the afterlife.  This year, though, it was pretty slow, and I was able to get to New York about fifteen minutes before midnight.”

Part of me was jealous because I miss my old hometown.  I hadn’t been back to New York in ages, and Lucifer’s story made me feel nostalgic for The Big Apple.  However, there was no way in Hell you’d ever get me to Times Square on New Year’s Eve.

“I actually had to burn the suit I was wearing,” he informed me with disgust dripping off the words.  “I know you love New York, Austin, but it was a disgusting cesspool last night.  I might have to add an eighth ring of Hell and make it an exact duplicate of Times Square at midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

“I don’t think Dante would appreciate your doing that,” I told him with a smile.

We both had a good laugh.  Just a couple of word nerds sitting around The House on the Hill, making jokes about Dante’s Inferno.

Why is it that ladies aren’t lining up outside to be the woman of this house???