The Devil Doesn’t Spring Ahead

spring aheadI returned to The House on the Hill sweaty, sore, and frustrated after my morning run.

The last thing I needed was to discover The Devil, all slim and impeccably dressed in one of his tailored suits, sitting in my living room and drinking a Snapple.

“There you are,” Satan said with a smile as he stood up to greet me.  “I brought lunch.”

He pointed to the large bowl of his world famous Hellfire Wings that sat tantalizing on the table in front of him.  My stomach growled loud enough for me to hear it over the screaming and complaining of every muscle in my body.

“I just went for a run,” I informed him as I stared at the chicken wings longingly.  “I’m on a health kick now.  I can’t eat those.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow because he has never known me to turn down the greatest Buffalo wings ever created.  “We could make a deal that allows you to eat anything you want and still look as fit and trim as I do.”

“As delicious as your wings are, there’s no way I’m trading my soul for them,” I said with a snarl.  The mere scent of the wings was driving me into a frenzy and I was trying very hard to maintain my self control and decorum in front of my guest.

“I’ll just have to eat them myself then,” The Prince of Darkness said with disappointment as he sat down again.  “I brought a case of Snapple and put it in the fridge to chill.  Can you still drink those?”

DevilTechnically, I shouldn’t have a Snapple, but considering the sacrifice I was making by passing on the Hellfire Wings, I think I deserved one.

“By the way, there’s something wrong with your clocks,” he mentioned as he took a huge bite out of a wing.  “The one on the microwave and the one on the DVR are an hour apart.  I just averaged then out and settled on that as a time.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead with my towel and then smacked myself in the dry spot.  “I forgot to set the microwave clock ahead.”

“Why are you fiddling with the time?” The Devil asked as he washed down his chicken with a huge gulp of Snapple.

“This is the weekend that we spring ahead,” I answered.  “Don’t you do that in Hell?”

Satan snickered.  “There are no clocks in Hell, Austin.  The damned are my guests for all eternity.  Why would they have any desire to keep track of time?”

I shrugged and stared at the bowl of wings again.  If my legs weren’t so heavy from my run, I probably would’ve jumped across the room to snatch them for devouring.

stopwatch“It would be a whole new means of torture,” I suggested.  “If you put up clocks, they’d become obsessed with how time never seemed to pass, adding to their agony.”

Lucifer chuckled.  “I like the way you think.  I could use a man like you to run my operation.  Name your price, and you can keep your soul.  I’ve never made a deal like that.  This is historic.”

I pondered on it for half a second.  If only because a career change could be exactly what I needed to shake me out of my funk.

“Thanks, but becoming the Devil’s right hand man would probably work against me when the time finally comes to check in at the Pearly Gates.  Besides, with your no clock policy, I’d imagine the work day being hellishly long.”

The Prince of Darkness got a good laugh out of that one.  “Please take a shower now.  Your post-run stench is about to kill all this chicken a second time.”

Ouch.  The Devil can be a real prick when you turn down his job offer.

About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
This entry was posted in Humor, Philosophy, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to The Devil Doesn’t Spring Ahead

  1. hahaha! What a fun read! ;D

  2. List of X says:

    Don’t take the job. If you get fired, you’re going to get fired literally.

  3. swo8 says:

    Great post! You made me laugh.
    Leslie

  4. Sunday is becoming my new favorite day of the week now thanks to you and Satan.

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