Posted by HH was sent this story a couple of days back by Dancer since she wasn't sure whether to post it, worried that it wasn't funny enough, and leaving it to him to decide. So here it is. on April 18, 2001 at 13:07:11:
Dancing With the Devil in the Pale Moonlight
[The Scene: A satanic orgy in the abandoned ruins of the Little Sisters of Mercy Orphanage. Imagine the usual stuff – goats, headless chickens, black candles, guys in robes, virgin sacrifices, etc.] Dancer: hello? Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. High Priest and Great Heirophant of All Evil: An intruder! What are you doing interfering with the revels of the damned? Dancer: I was looking for someone actually. [Notices girl on altar] Shouldn’t you be home on a school night. Here, borrow my cardie and go do your homework, OK? [Turns back to High etc.] And if you’re going to play music that loud at least get a decent speaker system. High etc: Seize her!!! Dancer, avoiding being seized: I’m sorry but you’re a bit late to have me as a virgin sacrifice. Anyway, I’m here to see your boss. Degenerate cultists: Huh? Dancer: You know, the big guy. Horns, tail, pitchfork, that sort of thing. Bring him on. High etc: You want to meet the Prince of Evil? Dancer: I need a word with him. Where is he? High etc: Well he doesn’t exactly put in a personal appearance at these things. Degenerate cultists: He doesn’t? but you said… High etc: Well he does in a sort of figurative sense, but not… Degenerate cultists: Hang on, then who’s that big bloke in the beard and hood that appears in the midst of our revels? Dancer: Santa? High etc: Ah well, that’s a bit of an analogy really. You see… Degenerate cultists: Are you saying that it wasn’t really the Great Serpent, Enemy of Mankind and Tempter of the World or what? It wasn’t just a man dressed up, was it? Was it?? Dancer: Why are you all so surprised that an evil devil-worshipper would lie? High etc: Look, if you people can’t understand spiritual metaphors about raising the devil then… Blackhurt, Prince of Fibs: Then what? Degenerate cultists and High etc: Aaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!! *flee* Dancer: They don’t make degenerate cultists like they used to. Are you the devil? Blackhurt: I like to think so, yes. Dancer, sniffing: Only I was hoping that that Mr Lucifer would turn up. I need to have a word or two with him about Messenger sometime. Oh well. Anyway, is this your handwriting? Blackhurt, a bit surprised, looking at parchment written in blood: It seems like a standard service agreement, yes. How did you come by it? Dancer: There was this man in the diner who looked very upset. Turned out he’d sold his soul to the devil to be able to marry his childhood sweetheart, and the day after the wedding she cleared out his bank account and fled to Mexico with these three guys she’s been having an affair with for two years. He’d sold his soul for nothing. Blackhurt, chuckling: Ah yes. I remember that one. Dancer: Well he deserves a refund. Blackhurt, not chuckling now: Are you serious? This is hell. We don’t do refunds. Dancer: You cheated. Give him his soul back. Blackhurt: We did not cheat. We tricked him. It’s traditional. Don’t you know anything about demonic pacts? They always go wrong and the person making the pact gets shafted. What part of the word evil don’t you understand? Dancer: So you are saying no, then? Blackhurt, appraising Sarah: I am saying no. Unless you are willing to risk your soul to get his back. Perhaps a little wager? Dancer: That wouldn’t be fair. I’m the Probability Dancer so I could fix things so I win. Blackhurt, who knows this and could fix things otherwise: I am willing to take the risk, mortal. Oh yes. Dancer: On the whole I’d prefer to just go public with this, I think. [holds up pocket cassette recorder and thumbs playback] Tape player: “…We tricked him. It’s traditional. Don’t you know anything about demonic pacts? They always go wrong and the person making the pact gets shafted. What part of the word evil…” Blackhurt gesturing to wipe the tape from existence: Foolish wench, your evidence is destroyed. Dancer, ducking out of way of exploding altar: By a curious co-incidence no it isn’t. You missed. And you’ll keep on missing. I guarantee it. And I also guarantee that there’s every chance that if this goes public you’ll be the laughing stock of every lord of hell and demon prince in the netherworlds. Blackhurt: You are not earning my goodwill here, foolish mortal. Dancer: Well that’s another plus for the day then, isn’t it? [*stops playing and prods Blackhurt*] Listen, demon, you’re giving that boy his soul back, you’re tearing up the contract, and you’re walking away or this is going to stop being an amusing little funny story about Dancer and the Devil and it is going to get really serious and personal and you do not want to see me when I get like that. Do you absolutely understand me? Blackhurt: You’re threatening me? Dancer, in his face: Yes. I am threatening you. This is a Dark Knight-and-Messenger level threat from the Probability Dancer, Herald of Galactivac. Last chance. Blackhurt: ……… [Contract explodes in a puff of brimstone] Blackhurt: I won’t forget this. Dancer: Good. Because if I ever catch you cheating again we’ll be having this conversation over. Blackhurt: From now on I shall we working for your utter destruction and downfall, and waiting for the day your soul is dragged screaming into my courts. Dancer: And this is different from what you do with everyone how? [Blackhurt disappears in a puff of smoke] Dancer: I… think… I’ll just go and sit down for a while now. [sits in the corner and waits for a funny ending to occur to her] ***