Your music was hard to hear, but you knew to stay true to
yourself that you shouldn’t take deals with the Devil. Lots of artists thought
that it was socially acceptable to make deals with the Devil, but you were
above doing things like that.
“No thank
you,” you said nicely. The Devil left unexpectedly without saying another
thing, and you realized how easy it was to get rid of the Devil. The next lady
in line came up. She was an older lady, but she seemed rather nice. She smelled
like butterscotch.
“I can’t
believe you turned down the Devil, so easily. You must have divine gifts. I
work for the Great Otherworldly Deity, or G.O.D. as you know him. If you feel
so inclined, you should come to our base of operations.” The lady didn’t buy
anything, and you were left to do your job, no longer bothered by crazy people
who wanted your music.
Eight
hours later, you found yourself back at your apartment, still listening to your
crappy album, wishing just a tiny bit that you had taken the Devil’s offer, but
you realized that bo matter what, it would probably end badly for you. You were
lying in your bed, daydreaming about the future, when you got the hankering for
chocolate milk. You jumped from your bed and made your way to your fridge. You opened
it with a sudden click, and a heavenly light poured out from the inside of the
fridge. What initially took the shape of a fridge seemed to have morphed into a
small pearly gate.
“Come to
us,” an angelic choir sung to you.
“I just
wanted some chocolate milk,” you said angrily. You moved through the fridge,
careful not to knock the pudding onto the floor of your apartment. You ascended
up a flight of glowing white stairs until you were standing in front of a blue
door with angel wings etched into it. The older lady garbed in gold and white
armor opened the door and gestured for you to enter. You entered a planning room
with a hologram of the Devil in the center of the room. There were a couple of
other people in the room who were wearing similar armor as the older woman.
“You’ve
seen the Devil in the flesh,” she said.
“You were
there,” You said simply.
“But you
were able to disregard the Devil’s charm, which seems to be a complete
impossibility for a mortal. This means that you are either partially a demon or
you are partially an angel. Or some otherworldly creature.”
“So?”
“So you
can kill the Devil with powers that are that strong!” Another person moved over
to you, she gestured with a tongue dispenser for you to open your mouth. Then
she took DNA from your mouth. Another armor wearing person grabbed your hand,
pricked it, and gathered your DNA into a tiny shred of paper.
“When are
you going to know?”
The older
woman moved towards a large computer as the other armor wearing angels placed
your DNA into a canister in the back of t. It whirled and spun, causing your
salvia and blood to mix together. The results came up on the screen. 0% angel.
0% demon.
“This is
impossible,” the older woman said. She stroked her chin and considered for a
second. “Run a secondary creature scan.” The results appeared rather slowly on
the screen. 0% unicorn. 0% leprechaun. 0% centaur. 50% lumberjack. “I thought
all of the lumberjacks were killed off by the Devil.”
“Lumberjacks
aren’t mythological…” you said.
“Jack cut
down a bean stalk to kill a giant. A lumberjack saved little red riding hood
and her grandma from a wolf. Lumberjacks are the only heroes of myth. A
lumberjack is the only person that can stop the Devil with the holy ax.”
“You are
kidding right?” You said.
“Have you
ever met your father?”
“No, but
that is hardly the point.”
“Your father
must be the last lumberjack in existence. That is amazing,” the woman said.
You rolled
your eyes. “Where is this holy ax?”
“It isn’t
in this version or reality. We will have to warn other versions of ourselves with
music,” the woman said.
“You can’t
be serious.”
“I’m never
not serious.”
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