Oh Hell…It’s Overtime

Oh Hell...It's Overtime | The Return of the Modern Philosopher“I’m so sorry you had to wait,” I said pleadingly to The Devil as I scampered into the living room with the foot long sandwiches from Subway I’d bought for lunch as a peace offering.

I wasn’t exactly a big fan of Subway, but my frequent guest had developed an obsession with the franchise ever since its well known spokesperson had been arrested for a particular crime, which meant he would be spending eternity in Hell.

“I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in,” Lucifer said as he carefully unwrapped his sandwich to ensure that nothing found its way onto his impeccably tailored suit.

“You’ve done it a million times before, so why would this time be any different?” is what I thought to myself, but not what I said out loud.

After all, I’d kept him waiting for well over an hour.  The Prince of Darkness isn’t exactly someone you wanted to piss off.  He could literally make my life Hell.

“Not a problem,” I replied as I handed him a Snapple out of the cooler and then grabbed one for myself.  “You know you’re always welcome at The House on the Hill.”

“Where were you?” Satan questioned after he had taken a hug bite out of his sub and washed it down with a refreshing gulp of Snapple.  “Please don’t tell me church.”

He chuckled, but I knew he was serious.  I’m fairly certain that one of the reasons The Devil and I got along so well was because I’ve pretty much given up on church and the Catholic faith.

The Nuns know and see all!I could hear The Nuns back at St. Ephrem’s issue a collective groan and then begin to recite an infinite number of rosaries for my lost soul.

“If I had been at church, you would’ve heard all the sirens as the fire engines rushed to put out the inferno caused by my spontaneous combustion,” I quipped.

“It’s good to know that you still prefer to spend your Sundays with me instead of with the competition,” Lucifer growled as he glared up angrily in the general direction of Heaven.  “You still haven’t told me why you kept me waiting for so long.”

“It was at work,” I finally confessed.  It felt so good to get it off my chest.

The Prince of Darkness paused mid-bite because he was so thrown off by what I had just admitted.  He gently put down his sandwich, wiped his hands on a napkin, and then leaned back against the couch to give me his full attention.

“Working on the day of rest?” he asked mockingly.  “The former altar boy has really fallen from grace.  I’d expect a tersely worded letter from Pope Francis to arrive via a white dove to scold you for the error of your ways.”

I let him have his fun because I had been late, but he certainly was laying it on thick.

“They don’t offer much overtime, so I wanted to take advantage of it,” I felt compelled to defend my decision to be an overachiever.  “We’ve fallen pretty far behind, and I feel a tad responsible since it happened while I was on vacation for two weeks.”

Oh Hell...It's Overtime | The Return of the Modern Philosopher“Ah, Catholic guilt,” Satan pointed out with a charming smile.  “You might lose your faith, but never the guilt.  It comes with a lifetime guarantee!”

“The money is a huge motivator,” I continued.  “You know why I’m trying to save, but I am also driven by the fact that I was passed up for a promotion that I really thought I deserved.  Part of me wants to kick serious ass in the work ethic department to show them that they made a huge mistake.  Does that make sense?”

“It most certainly does,” The Devil agreed as he stared, somewhat lustfully at the second half of his sub.

“Do you want me to leave so that you two can be alone?” I joked in reference to the way he was ogling his sandwich.

“You might want to spend a little overtime working on your jokes, Writer Boy,” he replied and then made a big deal of stroking the bun affectionately.

“If you don’t like my humor, you can always go to Hell…”

Always finish on a high note, Modern Philosophers!

Follow me on Pinterest, or I’ll send The Devil to pester you every Sunday!

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

2 Responses to Oh Hell…It’s Overtime

  1. Pingback: Sunday Round Up #7 | Laidig's Broadway

  2. Lucifer is one tough critic!

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