In the hot, dry, scorching lounge of Hell sits five people. One is a dream demon reading a newspaper, one is a William Shatner look alike sharpening a knife, one is a deranged hockey player whacking away with a machete, one is a chainsaw wielding cannibal sitting around, one is melted into a man with knives for fingers, and the other one is about to walk in right now.
"Dead again, huh, Strom?" remarked the dream demon over his paper.
"Yeah, yeah. It just is so hard to kill unknowing teenagers nowadays. Is the coffee still good here?" replied Strom.
"Nah. Budget cuts. Now we just have artificial sweeteners," remarked the William Shatner look alike.
"What's Wayne Gretzky doing over there?"
"Oh, he thinks he will go back up sometime next week. Thinks he will kill everyone this time."
"I know the feeling. They seem like idiots but there is always a smart one."
"Lucky one if you ask me. So, how did you get back here?"
"What do you think?"
"Tripped?"
"Natural causes?"
"No. No. You see, this time I got shot up by the FB-friggin'-I."
"Serious?"
"Yeah,
I think they are doing a crack down. They actually listen to the kids
these days."
"Stupid trusting lawmen with their guns. Now, if I had a gun…"
"Shut up, Shatner, you will never have a gun. You always kill with that knife."
"A man can dream."
"Aren't you supposed to be a demon?"
"Uh… SHUT UP!"
They all drank a little tea when a scantly clad caseworker stumbled in, with thick-rimmed glasses that made it look like his eyes were bulging out of his skull. He carried a clipboard… from Hell.
"Okay, Krueger, Freddy?" the accountant said in a genial voice.
"Yeah?" Freddy Krueger asked.
"You are up to haunt some stupid teenager's dreams. If you want to be paid, then you have to reach a quota of about 10 teenagers and one adult who does not believe in you."
"Oh right! See you suckers later!" he shouted while exiting the room.
"We will!" Voorhees shouted back.
"I give him two days" Shatner remarked over a spot of tea.
"Okay, Voorhees, Jason?"
"WOO! Finally get to use my chainsaw-machete!" he said with glee, revving up his machete/chainsaw.
"If you mean that is to pay your rent, then yes, you may use that. Room 666."
Voorhees stormed off, chain sawing randomly in rage.
"Okay, the rest of you, we have some borsch coming in with some scones. Hope you enjoy the tea. We will come back for you later; I have to go to the Care Bear Ward. It seems they are upset with their self-images. "
The accountant stumbled off to another room. The door slammed itself on the way off. The room fell silent.
"Well… who is up for some Canasta?"