Come On, Baby, Lightsaber My Hellfire

The Devil tells the tale of the Star Wars geek who demanded a working lightsaber in return for his eternal soul...“What’s the weirdest thing anyone has requested in return for his eternal soul?” I asked The Devil as I handed him a fresh bottle of Snapple from the cooler.

My handsome guest was, as always, dressed to the nines in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit that was probably painstakingly made by some poor soul who spent eternity in Hell creating Lucifer’s wardrobe.

The Prince of Darkness accepted the Snapple, put down the Sunday paper, and stroked his goatee as he searched his memory for the answer.

“There have been some pretty off the wall demands over the ages,” he finally began what had the potential to be a lengthy reply.  “Of course, that’s what I’ve come to expect of those born with free will.  Humans are a greedy, twisted, decadent lot, and it’s a wonder any of you ever make it to the eternal refugee located behind the Pearly Gates my former employer built to keep me from popping in for a surprise visit.”

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism.  “You’re saying that God erected the Pearly Gates to keep you out of Heaven?”

The Devil looked at me like he couldn’t believe I had the audacity to doubt his word.  “Why else would Heaven needs gates?  Is the old man looking to keep stray dogs from pissing on Heaven’s lawn?”

He had a point.  Still, I’ve always assumed that the gates had been there from the beginning, and were more for show than for protection.

“Congrats on forcing Heaven to become a gated community,” I shot back sarcastically.  “What about my original question?”

“Look who put on his sassy pants tonight!” Lucifer quipped.  “Okay, Mr. Impatient, I can’t quite narrow it down to one strangest request, but this odd one’s sure to interest you.  I had a guy demand a working lightsaber.”

“Whoa!” I gasped and then took a long sip of Snapple to wash down my excitement at that juicy bit of information.  “I never would’ve even thought to ask for something like that.”

The Devil will give you pretty much anything in return for your eternal soul. The only catch is that the item needs to actually exist...“Well, perhaps that’s because you’re more intelligent than the Kylo Ren wannabe who tried to negotiate this deal,” The Prince of Darkness snickered.  “How am I supposed to give him something that doesn’t actually exist?”

Point well taken.

“You couldn’t use a little Evil Magic to conjure up a real life Jedi weapon?” I asked hopefully.

Satan rolled his eyes.  “I’m not a magician, Austin!  Those morons do try to copy my signature look, though, so I can understand why you might be confused.”

“So what did this guy say when you told him you couldn’t make the deal?” I had to know all the details now because my Star Wars Geek genes had been activated.

“He accused me of not being The Devil,” The Devil answered with a laugh.  “I told him to go to Hell, but my witty attempt at humor went right over Darth Clueless’ head.  When he shot back that the real Lucifer would be able to get him a lightsaber, I decided to mess with his head a little.  Which was probably wrong since he was clearly disturbed already, but he had offended me and I needed to be compensated for mental anguish.”

I laughed, but I was hanging on his every word.  “What did you do to him?”

“I apologized for lying, and explained that I was actually pre-screening him for his request because I couldn’t just be handing out the Jedi Knights’ most trusted weapon to anyone who asked for one,” Lucifer said after taking another sip of Snapple.  “I asked what color lightsaber he wanted, but warned him to answer very carefully because his reply would go a long way towards determining if I agreed to make a deal.”

“After fifteen minutes of pacing and muttering to himself, he finally came back to the table and said he wanted a green one.  I told him that it was his lucky day because green was the only acceptable answer.”

I chuckled.  “You would’ve said that to any color he’d chosen, right?”

The Prince of Darkness slowly nodded.  “Then I asked him why he wanted a lightsaber.”

“So what did he say?” I demanded because the story at me on the edge of my couch.

“He confessed that he hated his coworkers, and he was going to use it to kill them all before he fled to a life of luxury in the Bahamas with all the money he’d embezzled from the company,” Satan replied with a somber look on his face.

Come On, Baby, Lightsaber My Hellfire | The Return of the Modern Philosopher“He sounds like someone who belongs in Hell without this deal,” was my astute observation.

“Exactly,” Satan assured me.  “I told him it would take a week to process his request.  We made arrangements to meet again in seven days, and then I called in an anonymous tip to the local authorities about the future mass murderer living in the neighborhood.  They arrested him for embezzlement, and a year later he was stabbed to death in prison by an inmate he had threatened to cut in two with his imaginary lightsaber.”

“And now he’s doing ten years to eternity in the maximum security wing of Hell?” I asked with a smile.

“Let’s just say that his decision to turn to the Dark Side did not work out like he expected,” The Devil replied with a wink.

The Force is strong with this one!  Follow me on Pinterest…

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.
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12 Responses to Come On, Baby, Lightsaber My Hellfire

  1. Josh Wrenn says:

    You could compile all your Snapple with Lucifer conversations into a tidy book. Perhaps you could even contact Snapple about a cross-promotional marketing strategy.

  2. I feel a little weird grabbing a Snapple now. What does it mean that I enjoy the same beverage as Satan?

  3. The Fullmetal Narcissist says:

    Should’ve asked for a golden fiddle instead.

  4. The Cutter says:

    The Devil’s kind of a jerk sometimes.

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