“Maybe it’s because you wore a purple suit and look like The Joker,” I quipped as I took a bite of my red hot dog.
Red hot dogs might look somewhat disturbing, but they taste so good.
“Really?” Lucifer asked coldly with a raised eyebrow aimed in my general direction. “The guy who’s sporting both ketchup and mustard stains on his toga is going to mock my colorful and impeccably tailored suit? Priceless.”
I looked down to confirm that he was indeed correct. The front of my toga looked as if I had been finger painting with condiments.
“So what seems off about today?” I asked distractedly as I wiped a napkin on the stains with no real results.
“It doesn’t feel like a Sunday,” The Prince of Darkness observed. “You’re not scurrying about with the nervous energy of someone dreading his return to work tomorrow.”
“That’s because tomorrow is a holiday,” I informed him as I took a bite of my dog, which subsequently let to my adding another splotch of yellow to an already cluttered canvas that would have made Jackson Pollock proud.
“Really?” Satan reacted like this was news to him. “It’s a warm weather holiday so it must be Independence Day. Am I correct?”
“That’s on July fourth,” I shot back angrily. “It’s May. Tomorrow is Memorial Day.”
“Excuse me,” The Devil said with absolutely no hint of apology in his tone. “One doesn’t have much use for the date when he has existed for all eternity.”
I rolled my eyes. Typical “I’m the Lord of Hell” drama from my guest.
“Don’t you have calendars in Hell?” I asked only half seriously as I helped myself to a cheeseburger from the platter on the table.
“Actually we don’t,” Lucifer put me in my place as he passed me the ketchup with a look that advised me to be very careful with its contents. “Every day is Monday in Hell. I started that a few decades ago when my creative team picked up on how much the Damned still loathed Mondays, even after death.”
“You have a creative team?” I questioned with a mouthful of burger on display.
“Of course I have a creative team. It’s essential that I keep things fresh for my eternal guests,” replied the being who seemed like my eternal guest. “Hell is overflowing with advertising types. I might as well put them to work.”
I formed a mental image of Don Draper, Roger Sterling, and all the other “Mad Men” characters sitting around a conference table in Hell, smoking, drinking, hitting on the secretaries, and well…raising Hell.
“Making every day Monday certainly is an award winning idea,” I conceded.
Satan raised his bottle of Snapple in toast, and I tapped it with my bottle.
Mondays certainly sucked, so that was one more reason to lead a decent life and avoid the eternal Hell fire hosted by the dude on my couch who had clearly raided Prince’s wardrobe before this week’s visit…
A Hell of a way to celebrate the Memorial Day weekend would be to follow me on Pinterest!