“Maybe we could save it for another time,” I suggested hopefully.
“No. I’m on a roll here. This kind of magnanimous attitude is rare. I’d suggest you take advantage of it,” he replied.
“Oookay,” I said, dreading what was about to come out of his mouth.
“Blow jobs are important—remember this. The occasional threesome or foursome adds a little spice. Orgies are interesting, but I’d suggest holding them once every three months or so and don’t invite people you have to see on a daily basis. Awkward is an understatement. I’m pretty sure they say not to go to bed angry—whomever the Hell they are—but I find being pissed off makes for very good sex—hence my date.”
“Um, aren’t you going to be late for that?” I asked praying to every deity I could think of that he would leave.
“Yes, I am. That will be to my advantage,” he replied with a wink that made me gag. “Affairs are fine, but don’t flaunt them and never hog the remote. Any questions?”
If I could have found my voice I would have screamed NO, but as it was trapped somewhere in my body I simply shook my head.
“I’m fairly sure I covered the important things, but if I’ve forgotten anything please feel free to call or just pop over to Hell for lunch sometime,” he said as he stood and stretched his powerful frame.
Again, I simply nodded mutely. There was nothing I could say that would be even remotely polite or not completely rife with swear words. He then bent over and touched his toes. Weird, but he was the Devil. Bizarre was normal. I assumed he was limbering up for his date.
Never assume…
“There you are,” he said as he plucked the heinous statue out from underneath the chair. “I could feel you but the info was coming in all muddled so I knew you’d been disrespected.”
“You talk to statues?” I asked with a bad feeling beginning to grow in the pit of my stomach.
“Charles isn’t a statue,” Satan said as he brushed the hideous thing off and placed him lovingly back on the coffee table. “He works for me.”
“Oh my Hell. You use that thing to spy on us?” I hissed.
“Of course I do. I can’t be everywhere at once,” he replied as if what he said made all the sense in the world.
“That’s just wrong,” I snapped.
“And your point?”
“I’m gonna destroy it.” I raised my hands, ready to blast it into a million little pieces.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Satan advised.
“And why not?” I demanded.
“Because it’s alive, O Compassionate One. Would you kill a defenseless three headed little monster that never harmed you?”
He had me there. I glanced over at Charles and realized all three of his heads were staring at me with pathetic fear in their ugly, beady, little red eyes. Fuckballs. I couldn’t kill it. It was pitiful and somewhat cute in a vomitous way.
“Take it with you,” I insisted, as I carefully circled the living piece of stone.
“No can do. He’s yours. Yes, I might occasionally use Charles to glean information, but his true job is to protect Samuel. He stays or I send a few of the Deadly Sins to watch over our boy. You pick,” my Uncle said smugly, knowing full well I would take Charles over my insane cousins.
“I’m extremely powerful.” Black glitter covered my arms and my hands sparked menacingly. “I don’t need a Charles to protect my baby,” I informed my overprotective and nosy uncle.
Then I stopped short.
I stopped short because all three of Charles’ heads were crying—slobbering and crying. And on top of that clusterfuck, six beady little eyes were beseeching me from their tear stained faces.
Dropping my head to my chest, I let it swing left and right as I tried to figure out how I was going to explain Charles to Ethan. Just like Martha, Jane, Abe, Beyoncé, Ross, Rachel and Blobbityflonk, I was going to collect another stray. Satan knew me well and he always seemed to have the upper hand. At least it was because he cared—or enjoyed spying on us.
I bit down on my lips to keep from smiling.
I would keep Charles and I would take care of him. Whatever. Satan insisted Charles had to stay. Satan was using Charles to spy on us. Satan was going to pay. I’d bet my undead life that Charles would love to watch a continuous reel of Satan butchering Journey songs and possibly a few weeks worth of Full House reruns.
“It will be fine. Welcome to the family, Charles,” I said, as I gingerly patted his lumpy heads.
“Wonderful,” Satan boomed. “My work here is done! Can’t keep Esmeralda waiting too long. I’d hate to lose an appendage tonight.”
With that, he disappeared in a giant blast of black glitter. I stared at Charles and Charles stared right back at me.
“He’s nuts,” I told Charles.
The three heads nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
“Do you talk?” I asked.
“Yesssssssssss,” the heads answered simultaneously, sounding more like Gollum than Gollum did.
“Mmmkay,” I said, trying to hide my shudder. It wasn’t their fault that their voices were nightmare inducing. “Let’s keep the speaking to a minimum.”
They nodded again and gave me thumbs up.
“Look, I’ve got to go get laid. Will you guys be okay in here alone?” I asked, and then smacked myself in the forehead. What was I thinking? They’d been alone in here for months—spying on us.