Friend of the Devil

Her Satanic Majesty.

Her Satanic Majesty.

I was sitting in a neighborhood bar the other night, waiting for God to swing by for some holiday cheer and I’m waiting and waiting because He tends to run late (like the whole world revolves around Him), and finally I get a text saying that He’s sorry, but He can’t make it because He needs to do some last-minute Christmas shopping, which, of course, is just His way of telling me that He met some hot new babe. “Goddamn it!” I texted back, but before I could type another word, a beautiful woman in a blue Prada dress sat down right next to me.

Her: Looks like you got stood up. So did I. Buy me a drink?

Me: Do I know you? You look so familiar. Are you an actress? Have I seen you on TV? BTW, I’m Larry.

Her: Please to meet you. Can you guess my name?

Me: OMG! I knew you looked familiar! I thought you were a man … you know, wealth and taste

Her: Sometimes I’m a man, sometimes I’m a woman and sometimes I’m a scary monster. That reminds me, I need to send a Christmas card to Linda Blair.

Me: Well, whatever you are, you’re smokin’ hot!

Her: Duh! Remember where I live?

Me: What are you doing here anyway? I was supposed to meet God.

Her: He’s so unreliable, isn’t He? Speaking of which, He’s also a total dud in the sack, especially for a guy who’s supposed to be omnipotent. More like rearrange those letters around a bit, if you know what I mean …

Me: You slept with Him?

Her: That’s pretty much all we did. And He snores. Like thunder. So annoying. How about you, Lar? Are you, um, reliable?

Me: I’m really flattered but to be honest, I’m not available. I have a girlfriend.

Her: Ha! I know! I’m just fucking with you! That’s what I do! Temptation is my thing. And just so you know, I was the one who didn’t give you prostate cancer.

Me: That was you? I thought for sure it was Him!

Her: Nope, all me. I think you’re kind of cute. In fact, I’ll make you a little deal.

Me: Are we gonna play chess or something?

Her: That’s my homeboy Death, silly! I’m far more charming. Haven’t you ever seen me in the details?

Me: Yes, yes, I know. I’ve heard about your deals. I grew up on The Twilight Zone and Damn Yankees.

Her: HA! Isn’t it funny how you could now pretty much substitute any New York team? Tebow? That was me! And don’t get all hot and bothered about the Knicks either. Spike’s time is just about up.

Me: So what kind of a deal are we talking about?

Her: What if I told you that I could make you happy for the rest of your life?

Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah and all I need to do is give you my eternal soul, sign in blood and then you give me a massive heart attack or I get hit by a truck, is that about right?

Her: Something like that.

Me: Does this tired routine actually work on people?

Her: Are you kidding? Have you ever been to Hollywood?

Me: You know what? I’m pretty happy with my life right now. No deal.

Her: Honey, do I look like Howie Mandel?

Me: You actually look a lot like Penélope Cruz.

Her: I did that just for you, sweetie. I like you, Larry. We could totally be friends. Let’s stay in touch.

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