I was reading on the couch, and the only visitor I was expecting on Easter Sunday was someone who never bothered to knock before entering my home.
I put down my book and scampered out to the foyer. I couldn’t see anyone on the porch when I looked out the window, but the knocking continued. Throwing caution to the wind, and fully expecting my Gargoyle to swoop down off the roof if a threat awaited me, I opened the door.
Three of the ugliest Demons to ever walk the Earth stood on my porch. I hadn’t seen them through the window because none of them was more than three feet tall.
“Can I help you?” I asked the one in the center, who held a clipboard and had a pen tucked behind his gnarled right ear.
He growled something at the Demon to his right, and that creature stepped forward and held out a case of Lemon Snapple Iced Tea. I took the box before the tiny Demon tipped over from the weight of it.
“Thank you,” I said politely, but with plenty of confusion in my voice as I set down the Snapple just inside the front door.
Clipboard Demon growled at the Demon to his left, and that one came forward with a covered Tupperware container. I didn’t need to take off the lid to know what was inside because I could already smell the contents.
“Cool,” I told the silent Demon when I took the container from his claws. “Why didn’t Lucifer just bring these himself?”
The Demon I thought of as the leader thrust his clipboard out at me and offered the pen from behind his ear.
“I’ve got my own pen,” I informed him as I put the Hellfire Wings on the foyer table, and grabbed the pen from atop the notepad on the table. This former Boy Scout was always prepared for when story ideas hit and needed to be remembered.
I signed next to the red X that, now that I think about it, might have been printed in blood.
This earned me a grunt and an envelope from the Head Demon. My name was written across the front of the envelope in calligraphy. Thankfully, the ink was blue, so I knew it wasn’t blood. Then again, don’t Demons have blue blood?
Before I could say anything, the Terrible Trio vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving behind the slight scent of sulfur on my porch. I closed the door before opening the envelope.
Inside was a single piece of parchment adorned with The Devil’s distinctive, elegant script.
I know this is a day we usually spend together, and I hope you look forward to it as much as I do.
Unfortunately, I cannot join you at The House on the Hill today. Please accept my humblest apologies and these gifts that I know will ease your pain.
Let me add another apology in the event that my couriers bit you or soiled your porch in any way.
It’s so hard to get good help these days, and I can’t let just anyone out of Hell to run errands for me. I hope you understand.
Today is just one of those days that it’s best for me to avoid the spotlight. My competition has a stranglehold on this particular Sunday, and there’s nothing I can do to top what they did to make this day special.
I know when to pick my battles, and this is not one of them. So, I’m going to spend the day in Hell, preparing for the big game tomorrow night. How cool is it that my Blue Devils are playing for the National Championship?
What do you say we meet at Three Toads & A Wicked Lady to watch the game? First round is on me!
The world should be over its temporary love of bonnets, bunnies, baskets, eggs, and candies by then, so it will be safe for me to show my face again.
Forgive me if this ruins your Sunday. Mine’s clearly been shot to Hell.
Ha! Come on, that was a good one.
I removed the cover from the Hellfire Wings and took a big whiff. They smelled so good! Maybe spending Easter Sunday on my own wouldn’t be so bad after all…