Celestial: This has been sitting up on my DA page for a long while, and I finally decided to upload it here. This piece was written for the ClubPepito's "Pepito's first job" contest. This is rated 'T' for very mild PepSquee (only visible if you're really looking), mentions of tobacco/alcohol use, and mild mentions of violence.
Anyway…Pepito, Squee, and the Diablo family are copyrighted to Jhonen Vasquez.
Pepito Diablo was not a patient person when it came to the wellbeing of the people that he cared about. Vicious and impossible to deter, Pepito would blaze his way through threats with a fiery determination that terrified everyone-even those closest to him. Once, at the age of three, he had bitten his mother's boss for gesticulating wildly as he talked since the movements seemed threatening.
As Pepito grew so did his determination to keep his loved ones safe…no matter the sacrifice that was required on his own part. Dignity and free time, in particular, had flown the coop in the wake of his latest escapade.
Todd's parents had stopped paying for the boy's necessities, so he had taken a job at a convince store in an attempt to make ends meet. He had been insistent on paying for his own tuition and clothes, refusing to bum off of the Diablo family. However, after three attempted robberies and five successful ones, Pepito felt that it was his duty to join Todd at his job in order to keep him safe from the world. Besides that, the guy that worked with Todd was getting to close to the teen in Pepito's humble opinion.
Juan Diablo was surprised when his son informed him that he was getting a job. Pepito wasn't the type of teenager that would want to work at a supermarket, fast-food restaurant, or gas station. Besides, hell owned enough of those that funds were not a problem in any way. The explanation as to why, however, had not surprised him. So he had consented to his son's plan, reminding him that he still had duties as the prince of hell.
Pepito had smiled at that reminder and informed his father that he was positive that he could damn people just as well from a convenience store, if not better.
Work started at seven o'clock in the morning on weekends. The Slurp N' Fill opened promptly at eight, after the store had been swept lightly and everything had been put into order. Todd and Pepito always arrived ten minutes early-because those ten minutes were spent eating stale donuts and drinking day old coffee. On Todd's budget any free food was good food, and Pepito didn't mind glutting himself with tasteless confectionaries if it made his friend feel better. Todd refused to take food from Rosemary Diablo everyday, instead preferring to buy or scrounge himself breakfast.
"Pepito, could you let go of me for a second?" Todd squirmed uncomfortably behind the counter of the local Slurp N' Fill, trying (quite unsuccessfully) to put on the apron that constituted his uniform. Pepito let out a self-righteous sigh and pulled on his own uniform, letting go of Todd's waist in the process. Technically, it was a liberated apron from the storage closet that he had stitched his own name on, but the management was too stupid to realize that fact. He even received a salary, because he had scribbled his own name onto the employee registry with a bright red marker. Oddly enough the difference had been noticed, but had been explained away as him being an extraordinary employee.
Smiling, Pepito latched onto Todd's waist once again, literally pulling the smaller teen to his place at the cash register. Once satisfied that Todd was in an area were he could observe him closely, Pepito floated casually over to his own station. He had been 'put in charge' of manning the cigarettes, lottery tickets, certain magazines, and alcohol after his predecessor had had an untimely accident involving a broken beer bottle and a cheese grater. Pepito couldn't help but snort at the memory. The guy had it coming to him, the way that he had looked at innocent little Todd.
"So are you ready for another day, amigo?" Pepito asked as he organized the cigarette boxes into neat rows by brand. Reaching under the counter, he pulled out a few new cartons and opened them, intent on refilling the empty spaces. While Pepito hadn't exactly been hired, he was still a fairly decent employee. He had made a habit of leading others into sin (after all, hooking the ignorant on whiskey and other substances did bring them down quite a few notches) and occasionally filching a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of spirits, but he also had made the convenience store much safer.
When faced with a pissed-off antichrist most would be robbers ran away with their tails in-between their legs.
"As ready as I ever am." Todd rolled his eyes and flashed a wink at Pepito, triple checking the cash register. Ever since Pepito had forcefully joined him in employment things had been much more relaxing at work...though also a bit more insane. "If you're going to kip stuff today could you set aside a case for me?" Todd gestured discreetly towards a case of Strawberry Daiquiri drinks. Over the years he had taken to indulging in some of Pepito's habits, though on a much smaller scale.
Pepito nodded his head in agreement and then flicked the switch that caused the neon open sign to glow. "You sure that you want something so girly, amigo?" He ran his fingers fondly down an amber bottle of whiskey, his nails lightly tracing patterns along the glass. Todd shivered slightly at the tone of Pepito's voice.
"I'm good, thank you." The two bantered back and forth playfully throughout the day, pausing only when a customer was in hearing distance.
Occasionally a minor would come up to Pepito's counter and Pepito would grin widely at the youth. The grin was cunning, sly, and completely Pepito. Todd was used to the conversation that normally followed, though he couldn't help but watch in morbid fascination once in a while.
"Listen, could I buy some of that?" The teen would point at something behind the counter and try not to stutter. Some brought fake IDs, made all the more obvious by the glaring flaws that often marred the hand drawn or stolen pieces of paper. When Pepito gave them an incredulous look most would drop their voices conspiratorially. "I'll pay you extra, make it worth your while, you know."
Pepito would cock his head to the side as if contemplating the offer, his eyes sparkling with an unnatural light. The purple and red orbs would close for a second, hidden by the dark eyelashes that framed them so seductively. Then the eyes would slowly reopen, and a smile would grace the antichrist's face. "Well…I could get fired for this but…okay. Why not? Rules are made to be broken, are they not?"
And as those words escaped Pepito's lips his costumer's eyes would light up in delight. They always pointed out what they wanted after that, and Pepito would dutifully lay the desired items on the counter, ready to scan and ring them up. Hard liquor, packs of cigarettes and boxes of cigars, lighters, dirty magazines, and lottery tickets…his fingers would tap at them lightly or dance over them quickly.
"I simply cannot take your bribe though," Pepito would sigh and run his fingers through his spidery Mohawk, pushing the strands away from his face. "I could seriously get in trouble if THEY found out about it." The stress he put on the word made it seem like a great secret, a conspiracy that only he and his customers knew of. They would nod sagely, their eyes darkening at the mention of some higher authority hiding constantly in the shadows.
"But…" Pepito would continue speaking, his body language perfectly in tune with the words that fell from his lips. "You could help me win this bet that I have going with my friend-at the rate that I'm going he's going to be taking my paycheck."
By this time the teen was completely seduced by Pepito's unyielding charisma and perceived coolness. Todd would watch out of the corner of his eye, looking through Pepito's human glamour even as he worked his magic on another individual.
"What kind of bet could I help you with?" Sometimes they sounded suspicious, but most of the time their eyes betrayed an earnest desire to help the teen that they had come to perceive as a comrade.
"Well, it is rather stupid…but I was rather drunk at the time." Pepito would rub the back of his head and laugh in an imitation of self-consciousness. "We bet that I could not get a certain number of people to freely give me their souls. All you need to do is sign a paper that says that you're giving your soul to me-sort of like a contract, but less confusing."
"That's it?" The teen would cock his or her head to the side and glance at the objects they wanted to purchase. "That simple, no effort required?"
Pepito would nod his head and make himself look nervous. Even though Todd knew that it was a lie, a façade, it was hard not to believe Pepito whenever he was in this particular mode. The teenage customer never stood a chance in hell.
"Deal." They would shake on it sometimes, and then Pepito would pull a simplified contract from his messenger bag. He would lay it out on the counter for his customer to read (which few did, and most thought the wording was a joke-a thing to make the bet even more difficult on the angel before them, after all how could one so polite be the antichrist?) and sign while he scanned up their items. Transaction complete, Pepito would take the money that they owed, make change, and sent them on their way.
"Tell your friends! I need all the help that I can get here!" Pepito would call as they walked out of the Slurp N' Fill with a contented smile. And they did, more often than not. Once the teen was out of sight he would slide the contract into a plastic sleeve and put it in a folder for protection, ready to join the others in his father's office.
That was how work passed every day until six o'clock, when their shift was finally over and the next employees relieved them of their duties. The two would walk home together-home being Pepito Diablo's house. Todd had moved all of his belongings into Pepito's room and the bathroom, so he never had to step inside his old home again.
Pepito would throw his messenger bag over his shoulder carelessly, not at all disturbed by the ruff treatment of its contents. Todd would carry their aprons in a plastic bag, swinging them along with an uncertain grace.
Often times the empty backpack that they had brought to work would be filled with alcohol and cigarettes, the bottles tinkling against one another with each step that the pair took. They shared the heavy bag, Todd carrying it first, then Pepito. Once they arrived home Juan Diablo would always wink at the two of them before gesturing up the stairs, distracting his wife from noticing the load that the two sixteen-year-olds carried.
Todd would horde some of the alcohol in their refrigerator and then would put the rest of it behind a trick floorboard. Pepito would hide the cigarette packs in hollowed out books that he stored on his shelf, and then the two would change (Pepito's changing was consistent with that of his father's-he removed the glamour and then threw on new clothes) and head downstairs-messenger bag in tow.
Pepito would smile when he handed the bag off to Senior Diablo, his eyes sparkling with an almost innocent mirth. He was the antichrist after all, and he preformed his job well.