Conversation with the Devil

 

There was a lull that morning as the early morning crowd of manual laborers had just left my diner, and the office workers had not begun to trickle in yet. It was a warm summer morning and a steaming inferno in the kitchen, perspiration rolled down my face and the smell of French Fry oil hung in my nostrils. My waitress Betty was running late again and I had haphazardly pivoted back and forth between the roles of cook and waiter, sliding across the old worn out asbestos tiles, when it suddenly became very quiet outside and a sporty car pulled into the lot. An unusually dressed man walked in trailing a strange cloudy mist behind him.

He was dapper in unusual garb, tall and slim in his chartreuse European cut suit and similarly colored suede shoes, with a thin clean shaved face except for a pencil thin mustache and a narrow pointed goatee. His black hair was slicked back under his red Fedora that was slightly cocked over his left eye. He appeared to be about forty years old, but I sensed that this was somehow an illusion. His slick fire engine red Ferrari sat steaming and gleaming in the parking lot

“What can I get you sir?” I inquired.

“Coffee please,” was his response.

“Sir I haven’t seen you around here before if you don’t mind me asking, are you from the area? “ I said, pouring him a cup of coffee 

“I’m from Hell, just over the River Styx, “ was his response, a slight grimace passing across his face as he watched for my response. 

“Oh well then would you like some Deviled eggs and ham?” I quipped. “Or perhaps a nice piece of Devil’s Food Cake?”          

“Are you mocking me friend?” said the visitor. 

“Not at all sir, but you must admit that you have an unusual sense of humor, friend? What do you really want here?” I asked. 

“I am looking for recruits for my army. You are not realizing your full potential, your aggressiveness and sharp tongue come from me. Your barbarism in the war was my gift to you!” said Lucifer.

“Well thanks but I would have been better off without it,”  I reminisced.

“You would have been dead without it Cook!” said the unholy one.

“I offer you the gift of freedom from responsibility, to be able to follow your desires and wants without the curse of conscience biting at your heels! You can walk away from all this, throwing away goodness and selflessness!” Beelzebub coaxed; the words seductively secreted from his slithering tongue. 

I turned my back on him now and proceeded to cut him a piece of cake.

“Have a nice piece of Angel Food Cake, its Heavenly, and prepared with all that is good and pure,” I said, placing the offering before him. 

He recoiled from the cake as if it were poison, backing out the door and jumping into the red Ferrari then disappearing in a cloud of smoke to go tempt another soul elsewhere. 

Happy Halloween!

 

Jim 10/21