Greetings From Anywhere But Here

“I don’t understand why you have to close down the blog while you’re on vacation,” The Devil whined as he followed me from the kitchen into the living room.

He was like the best dressed school kid I had ever seen, following on his teacher’s heels, and complaining about having to stay after school for detention.

“Why is this so difficult to understand?” I asked as I put six bottles of Snapple into the cooler in front of the couch.  “I write all the posts, I’m going on vacation for two weeks, therefore, there won’t be any content to put on the blog.”

“Couldn’t you write the posts in advance and then schedule them to go live throughout the two weeks?” Lucifer insisted.

I ignored his question for a moment while I sat down on the couch, got comfortable, and reached for the remote to turn on the TV.

With a snap of his well manicured fingers, The Prince of Darkness caused the TV to go black again.  Clearly, he meant business.

“I’m not going to write fourteen blog posts before I leave on vacation,” I growled as I tossed the useless remote onto the table.  “Haven’t you been listening?  I’m taking a new approach to life.  I have new priorities.  This vacation is more important than pretty much anything else in my life right now.”

Satan raised an eyebrow, gently tugged at the cuffs on the jacket of his impeccably tailored suit, and then cleared his throat.

“But what about our weekly column?” he asked with sadness in his voice.  “I know it might be just a short story to you, but for me, it’s an afternoon I get to spend away from Hell and with a friend.”

I sighed.  He really wasn’t making this easy for me, and to be honest, his behavior had completely caught me off guard.  Why was this bothering him so much?

“I figured you’d be fine with having a couple of Sundays off,” I confessed.  “More time to spend swindling people out of their eternal souls and whatnot.”

Lucifer’s shoulders slumped in surrender and he slowly walked around the table to his end of the couch.  He sat down, let out something between a groan and a heavy sigh, and then grabbed a Snapple from the cooler.

“So you’re saying our bro time means nothing to you?” he asked softly.

Bro time?  Was he serious.  This was The Prince of Darkness, right?  Since when did he talk like a frat boy from some raunchy teen comedy?

“Of course your friendship matters to me, but this vacation is very important,” I insisted.  “You need to trust me on this.  We can make up for it with extra…bro time…on Saturdays after I get back.”

Satan’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.  Well, if that child wasn’t mortal enemies with Jesus, whose birthday is celebrated on that holiday.  But you get the idea of what I’m trying to say.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked as he handed me a Snapple.  “That would really make me feel better about your being away for two weeks.”

I eyed him suspiciously, but graciously accepted the Snapple.  I was thirsty, and this bizarre conversation was making me long for a drink.

“I’m glad to hear you’re okay with my taking a vacation,” I quipped.  “Your approval means everything to me.”

“So why won’t you tell me where you’re going?” The Devil asked as my sarcasm sailed right over his head.

“Because I want to ensure my privacy,” I explained for what had to be the twentieth time.  “Nothing can interrupt or interfere with this vacation, and nothing will if no one knows where I am.”

“I am The Prince of Darkness,” he reminded me as he snapped his fingers to turn on the TV.  “I could find you if I wanted.”

“And then you’d also find yourself permanently banned from The House on the Hill,” I replied with a huge, fake smile meant to convey both menace and threatening.

Apparently, the evil grin got across my point because my house guest ended the interrogation and turned his full attention to the Yankees game.

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