However, as I exited my apartment, I found out that this little problem had been solved for me by the Supreme Annoyance.
The street that I walked out onto was not my familiar Los Angeles. No, instead of crowded streets and loud noises, I found a small main road with a few couples and families walking peacefully in the sun. Shocked, I turned around, thinking I'd see my building, but as I looked up to the sign, I instead read the faded but clean words of "The Deerborn Inn".
I glared downward.
"You're a real asshole, you know that?"
However, for once, the Devil choose not to appear again over my little outburst, which left me standing in the middle of a small Michigan town. Alone, confused, groggy, aggravated, and above all, tired of the bullshit that is my afterlife.
Just about normal for me.
But you don't get your job done just standing around, and you don't get breakfast that way either, so I began looking around for somewhere to eat. Sure, sure...I don't need to eat, but after more than thirty years of consuming food in the morning, it's kinda hard to break the habit...even if you've been dead for fifteen more.
Anyway, after a second I saw a small cafe down the street that looked open, so I made my way there, all the while looking at the tiny town I had been unknowingly transported to.
Overall, Deerborn looked like a perfectly nice little hamlet. The streets were clean, the weather temperate, and the stores all seemed well-kept. One place imparticular grabbed my attention by the reins and refused to let go, just because it was just so huge.
Halfway to the cafe, I looked up to the gigantic building that seemed to almost tower over the rest of the town. From the sign tastefully placed on the side of the building, I could see a logo that read "Shop smart...shop S-Mart!" in big bright lettering.
Wow. I hadn't seen one of those monstrosities for a long time. Those huge wholesale stores that catered to the surburban crowd, creating heaven on earth for bored housewives, and...er...a big bill for the husbands of said wives.
I remembered one time, just after we'd gotten married, when my wife had dragged me to one of these places to help pick out some things for our home. We had been planning on kids at the time, so we didn't necessarily want the finest quality things. Rosalyn, having had three younger brothers, knew the kind of destructive power small children possess, and I'd listened to her talk about all the damage the three boys had done to her mother's china and other assorted parts of the house as we drove to the Wal-Mart near her old home. We laughed the entire time.
Before I could bring up any more painful memories, I turned my eyes from the large department store back to the cafe. I didn't need to remember things I couldn't have. I didn't need to think of the things I'd lost. What I needed was to get to that cafe, suck down a cup of strong coffee, and find the Damned soul that was about to cause trouble in this little berg.
The first two were simple, and as I'd hoped, the coffee was mind-shatteringly strong. I took my time to order, even though I always get the same thing, and the young waitress who was working my table took my order with a chipper smile, as if I hadn't made her wait for five minutes for me to work out what I was eating. As a reward for her waiting, I gave her a smile as I ordered.
"Canadian bacon and eggs...sunnyside up, if you please..." I told her pleasantly, a feat I would have had a great deal of more trouble with had I not had two cups of that coffee in me. Alive or dead, I needed my coffee.
"No problem, sir..." she said with a sweet smile as she took my menu, "And anything for your friend?"
What? My fri-
I turned to the seat next to me at the table and rolled my eyes even before I saw him. You'd think after a year and a half, I'd be used to this crap.
"Hello." I told him quickly. Then I looked back at the waitress.
"Nothing for him, ma'am..." I said cooly, glaring at the figure beside me out the corner of my eye. However, being him, he couldn't just let it be.
"Actually," said the familiar voice which had awakened me earlier, "I'd love a nice bagel. With cream cheese and lox, if you please."
"All righty, sir..." the young waitress told him with a smile, "That'll be done in around five minutes, okay?"
"Yeah, sure..." I said, keeping the friendly voice despite the fact that my decent mood had been ruined. However, the second she left, I rounded on the figure beside me.
"Nice trick..." I hissed. He gave me an amused smile. "But from now on, please let me know that you're transporting me across the country BEFORE you do it?"
"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" the Devil answered, "The expression on your face as you walked out was priceless, if I may say so."
"As if you really care what I say so," I grumbled back to him. For some reason, grumbling and snapping seems to be my most common form of communication with the Devil. Wonder why.
"Oh, but I do, Ezekiel..." he assured me with an expression that told me the exact opposite, "I really do."
I stared at him for a second, basking in the glow of one of the biggest lies I'd ever heard. So THAT'S why he's Prince... However, since I knew that argueing with him over something like that wouldn't work and would waste a good deal of time and effort, I decided to ask him some serious questions.
"So what's up with this one that you're being so...helpful? I mean, you transported me to the place I needed to be, you told me about the soul's history..." I let it hang, leaving him to answer the unasked question.
"None of your concern..." he answered smoothly, with just enough gruffness to tell me not to ask again. Yes, after a year and a half, I've come to be able to read the Devil fairly well, though I don't make the mistake of thinking that I could ever truly understand him. Parts, maybe, but never the whole package. And I don't want to. I'm pretty sure that if I did, I wouldn't be able to hate him.
"Then at least tell me this," I continued, sipping the rest of my coffee with pleasure, "Why a bagel?"
Wow, I caught the Devil off guard. Brownie points for me.
"I happen to like them..." the immortal being answered with a slight frown, "And being a native New Yorker, I would think you'd understand."
"But a bagel?" I persisted, somehow keeping a straight face,"You're the Devil! You're supposed to pick something...I don't know, less mundane?"
"I got it with lox..." the Devil answered quickly.
To which I just sighed tiredly, like a man who'd just seen his friend agree to a blind date.
He snorted.
There are very few joys in your death when you've been damned to Hell, just as there are very few victories. I, during the course of my work, have come to appreciate the very very small ones he seems to allow during these little conversations. So much so that we've taken to calling each other 'friend'. True, I would never trust him like I would a friend, but after all I've been through, he's the closest thing to one (other than Father Horn) that I seemed to have. Besides, even if he was the King of Evil, he was rather witty and often entertaining when he got it into his mind to be.
However, I was unable to finish my bagel tirade and annoy him even further because, as I emerged from my thoughts, he was no where to be seen. Like always, he'd left me...with the bill as well.
But all was not bad, since that young waitress came a few seconds later with my breakfast. Hot, greasy, and bathed in cholesterol, the food looked absolutely delicious.
It was times like this that being dead isn't quite so horrible.
Yet as she put the plate before me, a nervous expression crossed her face.
"Um, sir?" she said quickly, neatening a part of the table that hadn't looked messy in the first place, "There's a little problem with your friend's order."
"Hmm?" I asked intellegently, my face already full of the hot Canadian bacon she'd put down moments before.
"You see...we only had one bagel left, it being a bit late for breakfast and all, and I was gonna give that one to him. But for some reason, it disappeared, lox and all. I'm really sorry-"
"Don't worry about it," I said as I swallowed down the warm food, "He left anyway."
"Oh good..." she answered, relieved, "Then I'll just take it off of your bill-"
"Nah," I told her, waving my hand, "Keep it on."
I saw her confused look.
"Just...keep it on. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble for losing food now, would I?"
Another look of relief crossed her face, and she graced me with a smile for me kindness. However, I had another purpose to making friends with her.
"Say," I read her name-tag, "Jenny, have you seen anything weird here recently? Any unexplained deaths or strangers?"
Jenny smiled nervously, then shook her head. "No, sir. Other than you, we haven't had any strangers around here, at least not that I've seen."
"What about strange deaths?" I persisted, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
But then a bizarre expression flashed by her face. The waitress looked as if she wanted to tell me something, yet for some reason she held back.
"Um...nothing all that strange around here..." Jenny told me woodenly, her tone informing me more than her words, "But if you're looking for anything, the best place to look is over at the S-Mart. They got just abour everything over there. And I mean everthing. I should know. I work there as well, assistant manager in fact."
"Then what are you doing waitressing here?" I questioned, trying to calm her down by switching the subject just a little. There was something odd in the little town, and I was starting to get genuinely frightened by it.
"Cause my parent's own the place and they need help occasionally," the waitress told me simply with a true smile.
"And you're saying that I might find what I'm looking for over at the S-Mart?"
Yes, I was a bit skeptical, but wouldn't you be? I mean, please...shopping for damned souls at a wholesale store? A little bit more than even I could handle yet.
"Yes sir..." she told me, completely serious, "I guarantee that if you're looking for odd stuff, you'll find it there. Say Jenny sent you, and ask for Ash."
Ash? Oh dear G- er...S-...er...whoever's listening...
The street that I walked out onto was not my familiar Los Angeles. No, instead of crowded streets and loud noises, I found a small main road with a few couples and families walking peacefully in the sun. Shocked, I turned around, thinking I'd see my building, but as I looked up to the sign, I instead read the faded but clean words of "The Deerborn Inn".
I glared downward.
"You're a real asshole, you know that?"
However, for once, the Devil choose not to appear again over my little outburst, which left me standing in the middle of a small Michigan town. Alone, confused, groggy, aggravated, and above all, tired of the bullshit that is my afterlife.
Just about normal for me.
But you don't get your job done just standing around, and you don't get breakfast that way either, so I began looking around for somewhere to eat. Sure, sure...I don't need to eat, but after more than thirty years of consuming food in the morning, it's kinda hard to break the habit...even if you've been dead for fifteen more.
Anyway, after a second I saw a small cafe down the street that looked open, so I made my way there, all the while looking at the tiny town I had been unknowingly transported to.
Overall, Deerborn looked like a perfectly nice little hamlet. The streets were clean, the weather temperate, and the stores all seemed well-kept. One place imparticular grabbed my attention by the reins and refused to let go, just because it was just so huge.
Halfway to the cafe, I looked up to the gigantic building that seemed to almost tower over the rest of the town. From the sign tastefully placed on the side of the building, I could see a logo that read "Shop smart...shop S-Mart!" in big bright lettering.
Wow. I hadn't seen one of those monstrosities for a long time. Those huge wholesale stores that catered to the surburban crowd, creating heaven on earth for bored housewives, and...er...a big bill for the husbands of said wives.
I remembered one time, just after we'd gotten married, when my wife had dragged me to one of these places to help pick out some things for our home. We had been planning on kids at the time, so we didn't necessarily want the finest quality things. Rosalyn, having had three younger brothers, knew the kind of destructive power small children possess, and I'd listened to her talk about all the damage the three boys had done to her mother's china and other assorted parts of the house as we drove to the Wal-Mart near her old home. We laughed the entire time.
Before I could bring up any more painful memories, I turned my eyes from the large department store back to the cafe. I didn't need to remember things I couldn't have. I didn't need to think of the things I'd lost. What I needed was to get to that cafe, suck down a cup of strong coffee, and find the Damned soul that was about to cause trouble in this little berg.
The first two were simple, and as I'd hoped, the coffee was mind-shatteringly strong. I took my time to order, even though I always get the same thing, and the young waitress who was working my table took my order with a chipper smile, as if I hadn't made her wait for five minutes for me to work out what I was eating. As a reward for her waiting, I gave her a smile as I ordered.
"Canadian bacon and eggs...sunnyside up, if you please..." I told her pleasantly, a feat I would have had a great deal of more trouble with had I not had two cups of that coffee in me. Alive or dead, I needed my coffee.
"No problem, sir..." she said with a sweet smile as she took my menu, "And anything for your friend?"
What? My fri-
I turned to the seat next to me at the table and rolled my eyes even before I saw him. You'd think after a year and a half, I'd be used to this crap.
"Hello." I told him quickly. Then I looked back at the waitress.
"Nothing for him, ma'am..." I said cooly, glaring at the figure beside me out the corner of my eye. However, being him, he couldn't just let it be.
"Actually," said the familiar voice which had awakened me earlier, "I'd love a nice bagel. With cream cheese and lox, if you please."
"All righty, sir..." the young waitress told him with a smile, "That'll be done in around five minutes, okay?"
"Yeah, sure..." I said, keeping the friendly voice despite the fact that my decent mood had been ruined. However, the second she left, I rounded on the figure beside me.
"Nice trick..." I hissed. He gave me an amused smile. "But from now on, please let me know that you're transporting me across the country BEFORE you do it?"
"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" the Devil answered, "The expression on your face as you walked out was priceless, if I may say so."
"As if you really care what I say so," I grumbled back to him. For some reason, grumbling and snapping seems to be my most common form of communication with the Devil. Wonder why.
"Oh, but I do, Ezekiel..." he assured me with an expression that told me the exact opposite, "I really do."
I stared at him for a second, basking in the glow of one of the biggest lies I'd ever heard. So THAT'S why he's Prince... However, since I knew that argueing with him over something like that wouldn't work and would waste a good deal of time and effort, I decided to ask him some serious questions.
"So what's up with this one that you're being so...helpful? I mean, you transported me to the place I needed to be, you told me about the soul's history..." I let it hang, leaving him to answer the unasked question.
"None of your concern..." he answered smoothly, with just enough gruffness to tell me not to ask again. Yes, after a year and a half, I've come to be able to read the Devil fairly well, though I don't make the mistake of thinking that I could ever truly understand him. Parts, maybe, but never the whole package. And I don't want to. I'm pretty sure that if I did, I wouldn't be able to hate him.
"Then at least tell me this," I continued, sipping the rest of my coffee with pleasure, "Why a bagel?"
Wow, I caught the Devil off guard. Brownie points for me.
"I happen to like them..." the immortal being answered with a slight frown, "And being a native New Yorker, I would think you'd understand."
"But a bagel?" I persisted, somehow keeping a straight face,"You're the Devil! You're supposed to pick something...I don't know, less mundane?"
"I got it with lox..." the Devil answered quickly.
To which I just sighed tiredly, like a man who'd just seen his friend agree to a blind date.
He snorted.
There are very few joys in your death when you've been damned to Hell, just as there are very few victories. I, during the course of my work, have come to appreciate the very very small ones he seems to allow during these little conversations. So much so that we've taken to calling each other 'friend'. True, I would never trust him like I would a friend, but after all I've been through, he's the closest thing to one (other than Father Horn) that I seemed to have. Besides, even if he was the King of Evil, he was rather witty and often entertaining when he got it into his mind to be.
However, I was unable to finish my bagel tirade and annoy him even further because, as I emerged from my thoughts, he was no where to be seen. Like always, he'd left me...with the bill as well.
But all was not bad, since that young waitress came a few seconds later with my breakfast. Hot, greasy, and bathed in cholesterol, the food looked absolutely delicious.
It was times like this that being dead isn't quite so horrible.
Yet as she put the plate before me, a nervous expression crossed her face.
"Um, sir?" she said quickly, neatening a part of the table that hadn't looked messy in the first place, "There's a little problem with your friend's order."
"Hmm?" I asked intellegently, my face already full of the hot Canadian bacon she'd put down moments before.
"You see...we only had one bagel left, it being a bit late for breakfast and all, and I was gonna give that one to him. But for some reason, it disappeared, lox and all. I'm really sorry-"
"Don't worry about it," I said as I swallowed down the warm food, "He left anyway."
"Oh good..." she answered, relieved, "Then I'll just take it off of your bill-"
"Nah," I told her, waving my hand, "Keep it on."
I saw her confused look.
"Just...keep it on. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble for losing food now, would I?"
Another look of relief crossed her face, and she graced me with a smile for me kindness. However, I had another purpose to making friends with her.
"Say," I read her name-tag, "Jenny, have you seen anything weird here recently? Any unexplained deaths or strangers?"
Jenny smiled nervously, then shook her head. "No, sir. Other than you, we haven't had any strangers around here, at least not that I've seen."
"What about strange deaths?" I persisted, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
But then a bizarre expression flashed by her face. The waitress looked as if she wanted to tell me something, yet for some reason she held back.
"Um...nothing all that strange around here..." Jenny told me woodenly, her tone informing me more than her words, "But if you're looking for anything, the best place to look is over at the S-Mart. They got just abour everything over there. And I mean everthing. I should know. I work there as well, assistant manager in fact."
"Then what are you doing waitressing here?" I questioned, trying to calm her down by switching the subject just a little. There was something odd in the little town, and I was starting to get genuinely frightened by it.
"Cause my parent's own the place and they need help occasionally," the waitress told me simply with a true smile.
"And you're saying that I might find what I'm looking for over at the S-Mart?"
Yes, I was a bit skeptical, but wouldn't you be? I mean, please...shopping for damned souls at a wholesale store? A little bit more than even I could handle yet.
"Yes sir..." she told me, completely serious, "I guarantee that if you're looking for odd stuff, you'll find it there. Say Jenny sent you, and ask for Ash."
Ash? Oh dear G- er...S-...er...whoever's listening...