The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Pitchfork

Father's Day“Father’s Day.  Am I right or what?”

I looked up to find The Devil standing in front of me.  He held out a bottle of Snapple, which I snapped up greedily.  I’d been writing and had totally lost track of time.  As a result, I was wicked thirsty.

“Thanks,” I finally remembered to say after I’d taken a long sip.  “What was that about Father’s Day?”

Lucifer had been in an odd mood all day.  He had talked all through the Yankees game, which was unusual for him.  I’d also noticed that he was wearing a very ugly tie, which did not go at all with his thousand dollar suit.

He took his fashion very seriously, and that tie was clearly a cry for help.

“Father’s Day is a difficult holiday if you’re not a father, or if you’ve lost your Dad,” The Prince of Darkness waxed philosophical.

I nodded.  “I miss my Dad all the time, but it’s especially hard on Father’s Day.  It hurts to look at social media and see all the pics of my friends hanging out with their Dads.  I get jealous and sad.”

“Your father was a very good man,” Satan assured me as he patted me on the shoulder and then sat down on the other end of the couch.  “The mere fact that I never had any contact with him is proof of that.”

We both chuckled.

Devil“What about you?” I asked because I knew something about the holiday was bugging him and he wanted to talk about it.  “Angels don’t have fathers, right?”

“Not unless you count my ex-boss who would like every being to think of him as the Almighty Father.  I don’t care what your scary Nuns say, he is not my father.”

“Lucifer, I am your father!” I declared in my best Darth Vader voice.

The Devil did not smile.  Instead, he gave me a look that said he was tempted to stick his pitchfork where the sun did not shine.

“How long have you been waiting to use that corny line?” The Devil asked as he rolled his eyes and took a long sip of Snapple.

“I was just trying to make you laugh,” I said defensively.  “I’m sorry you don’t have a Dad on Father’s Day.  Looks like we’re in the same boat.”

I held out my Snapple bottle for a toast and Lucifer reluctantly tapped his bottle to mine.

“Thanks for remembering I was an Angel first.  At least the Nuns got something right,” he countered with a Devilish grin.  “So did you ever want kids?  Don’t you wish someone was buying you ugly ties and taking you out for dinner today?”

Sore subject, but it was on the table and needed to be addressed.  “Of course I wanted kids.  My Dad was an awesome father, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps.  It just never happened while I was married…”

“And now you can’t find a date, let alone someone to sleep with you, so becoming a father is pretty much impossible,” Lucifer finished my thought.

I gave him the finger, but he had pretty much hit the nail on the head.  It’s hard to become a father when you can’t even get into a relationship.

Baby Devil“What about you?  You’re all suave, good looking, well dressed, and can offer a woman anything she wants.  Are there Little Lucifers scampering around on cloven hoofs and hurling miniature pitchforks at cute little girls on the playground?”

Satan’s face got very serious, and he stared down at the ugly tie around his neck.  I was certain this was when he was going to tell me about his child, who’d bought him the tie, but whom he could never see because his mother would not allow it.

“No kiddos for me, Austin,” the Prince of Darkness replied glumly.  “It just wouldn’t be right to bring a Devil Child into the world.  Look at Rosemary’s Baby.  That flick only scraped the surface of how horrible it would be if my progeny walked this Earth.”

The Devil looked like he was about to shed a tear, and I felt deeply sorry for the guy.  I’d never even considered that he might want to have children.

“I’ve been dying to ask you all day.  What’s the deal with the tie?”  I hoped that changing the topic to fashion, which was one of Lucifer’s favorite things to discuss, would improve his mood.

Boy, had I miscalculated.

“Every year, I buy myself the ugliest tie I can find to wear on Father’s Day,” he explained.  “Then I pretend that I’m like any other Dad, sporting a horrible tie that his kid bought him and totally ignoring the fact that it is beyond repulsive.”

“That is a very ugly tie, dude,” I remarked as I gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

Football“Don’t you dare talk,” Satan countered with a chuckle.  “I’ve seen photos of you as a child and how your Dad used to dress you.  The man had absolutely no fashion sense.  He’s lucky Child Protection Services wasn’t called for fashion abuse!”

We both had a good laugh, a couple of tough guys trying to hide how much it hurt that we didn’t have kids of our own to wish us a Happy Father’s Day…

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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 Holidays, Humor, Philosophy, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Pitchfork

  1. markbialczak says:

    Happy Father’s Day, Austin. I’ll wish it to you, my friend. I had one who’s gone, too … I’ll share one of the wishes I got from my daughter and her boyfriend George Three today, OK? I got a Jets T-shirt. No ugly tie. 🙂

  2. So…the devil is moral? No kids because he doesn’t want to reak havoc on the world?

  3. ksbeth says:

    happy father’s day, austin. i love the pic of the two of you –

  4. Ocean Bream says:

    Shenanigans with the devil. That’ll be a story to tell the kids.

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