He finally strode into view wearing an impeccably tailored suit and a frown, and then stood in the doorway to the living with his arms crossed waiting for me to reply.
Apparently, it was going to be “one of those” Sundays. I really had no choice but to play along because you will never win a staring contest with Lucifer.
“There are so many things to hate,” I quipped as I reached for my Snapple. “Do you want to narrow it down for me?”
“I loathe the way they talk about me in your blog, but have nothing but unicorns and rainbows to hurl in the general direction of any superhero you happen to mention in your posts!” The Prince of Darkness roared as he made his way over to the couch.
I took a long sip of my Snapple because I needed a moment to process this most recent outburst from my regular Sunday guest.
“The Sundays With Satan Short Story Series is the most popular feature on my blog,” I replied with some confusion. “My readers love you. You’re like a well dressed rock star to them. How do they talk about you that upsets you?”
Satan let out something that sounded like a frustrated growl before he sat down on his end of the couch. His body language betrayed that he was not happy, but his suit still hung just perfectly on him. How he managed that, I had no idea.
“You know the comments,” The Devil admonished me. “The ones that chastise you for letting me into your home. The ones that ramble on about how I am the scourge of all that is good and do not deserve to be humanized or turned into a hero. Before you try to deny it, I remember every such comment word for word, and have committed to memory exactly who wrote each one.”
“Just words on a blog,” I tried to make him feel better.
Lucifer would not have it, and shook his head adamantly.
“People say what they truly feel on the internet because they think they can hide behind the anonymity of screen names and avatars, but I have the best computer hackers in the world working for me in Hell. I know the true identity of each and every offender.”
I gulped because I felt that was what some of my readers should be doing at that revelation. I drank some more Snapple because my throat was suddenly very dry.
“I know what words hurt, but snarky comments should be expected when you put even a snapshot of your life online for all the world to view,” I decided to try a more philosophical approach to the issue.
“They slander my name, they threaten me, they act is if I don’t have feelings,” The Prince of Darkness mumbled. “And yet, they adore The Flash and Supergirl. They write such darling little comments about those two, and they aren’t even real. They are kissing up to fictional characters who cannot accept or appreciate the praise, but they get all hard and Biblical on a being who does exist and can literally make their lives Hell for all eternity. It infuriates me to no end!”
“Maybe they say those horrible things because they are afraid of you, and being all bad ass with words typed from a safe distance makes them feel a little less frightened,” I suggested as I handed him a Snapple from the cooler.
“I can do everything The Flash and Supergirl can do, you know,” Satan boasted bitterly as he opened his iced tea. “And we both know I’m better looking than both of them.”
He was wrong on that one. Supergirl is way hotter, but there was no way in the world I was going to disagree with The Devil when he was in this kind of mood.
“You need to get your own TV show to even the playing field,” I informed him with a smile. “TV is how you win hearts and minds. The Flash and Supergirl were B List Superheroes until the CW plucked them out of obscurity and put them in front of millions of viewers every night.”
Lucifer smiled brightly. “I love this idea. It’s time for me to be a star. Maybe I can even do a crossover episode with The Flash and Supergirl, and I will be as beloved as a superhero!”
Of course, the true superhero was me because I had, once again, saved the day…