Lucifer sat watching the music channel as he supped at another bottle. The sound for the television was muted but Thor had selected a string of rock tracks from the jukebox so some kid called Justin whatever was presently appearing to sing ‘Enter Sandman’. All things considered, with just seeing this Justin prancing about on stage, Lucifer was thankful the sound to the TV was switched off. What the youth of today classed as dancing left a lot to be desired. Suddenly he felt a vibration in his pocket and he reached in to pull out his mobile phone. He pressed the screen, read the text message and groaned.
“Can you get me a double whiskey and a lager top, Father’s on his way and Gabriel is tagging along.”
John nodded and got up. “Are you still not talking to your brother Gabriel?”
Lucifer pulled a face. “The guy’s a dick. He delivers one message, gets a bit of fame and thinks he’s the ‘big I am’. If it wasn’t for the fact he always hides behind Father, I’d kick his ass.”
John nodded in a non-committal sort of way as he put the glass of whiskey on the bar and grabbed a glass for the lager top. By the time he’d poured the drink, they heard footsteps on the stairs and Gabriel walked in. He was wearing a postman’s uniform and dropped his mail bag by a stool. “Father will be up in a minute, he stopped to catch up with some tramp with a dog.” Gabriel picked up the lager top and took a sip. “So Lucifer, how’s work, keeping you busy?” he asked smugly.
“Sod off delivery boy, before I take that bag and ram it up where the sun doesn’t shine,” Lucifer said angrily.
“Lucifer! Be nice to your brother,” a voice said from the top of the stair. Lucifer sat up a little straighter on his stool but didn’t turn around.
“That was me being nice Father, I gave him a warning rather than just showing him what I plan to do,” Lucifer replied sullenly. “So who were you talking to?”
“Jack, he keeps getting drunk and then disturbing his neighbours, waking up their baby with his singing,” God answered, walking into the room. “Then the baby’s mother starts praying for him to be quiet and she really believes in prayer so it’s like someone shouting in my ear. It puts me off doing the Sudoku in the paper.”
“So what did you tell this Jack?” Lucifer asked.
“I gave him a severe throat infection and told him if he has another drink, it will fry his liver. Then I gave him a few choice visions,” God said, sitting down.
“You think it will work?” Lucifer asked. “Will he stop waking the baby up?”
“Sure it will work, he ran off and got hit by a bus,” God replied dismissively.
“Wasn’t that a little extreme? I’ve seen you leave here some nights singing at the top of your voice,” John said, aghast. Lucifer and Gabriel both nodded their agreement at the fact of God singing while drunk.
“Well maybe the visions were a little too much, but how was I supposed to know he would run like that? He had a walking stick with him,” God said, looking at the whiskey glass in front of him. “I did make sure the dog went to a new home and ordered Peter to fast track him through the Pearly Gates.”
“Well that’s something I suppose. Who took the dog in?” John asked.
“Angelo, the guy from the kebab shop down the street,” God answered. “He seemed happy to be looking after it.” “Well if I were you, I wouldn’t be calling into Angelo’s for a kebab for a few weeks.” John warned them. “He does have a reputation around here.”
“He wouldn’t… would he?” Gabriel said, the colour draining from his face.
“He is on the list of borderline possible inmates for my place,” Lucifer said with a smile. “And dogs do go missing a lot round here.”
“Enough Lucifer, stop winding your brother up, Angelo does not use pet dogs to make his kebabs.” God said sternly and then took a sip from his glass before continuing. “So John, a little quiet in here this morning isn’t it?”
“It’s the rain.” John explained, happy at the change in subject as he shut out the image of the tramp getting hit by the bus and his dog becoming kebab meat. God was a nice bloke and could be really thoughtful but at times, the Old Testament thinking would take over. “Only the hard-core oldies pop in when the weather’s bad.”
God looked over at Thor and Hercules, Thor had a hand in a pocket on the pool table and as Hercules took the shot, the red ball fell into his palm. Taking the ball, he put it into the holding area for the balls on one end of the table. “Lucky shot,” they heard Thor grumble.
“You should stop them doing that,” God said.
John put down the paper with a shrug. “They’re doing no harm and there’s nobody waiting to play.”
“Well it’s your business I suppose,” God said, reaching out and spinning around the paper to look at the headline on the front page. “X Factor Judge drunken shame,” God read out loud. “Is there no real news?”
“I love X Factor, who is it?” Gabriel asked, leaning forward.
“Angels should not listen to tabloid gossip,” God said sternly as he started to read the story. “And getting rat-arsed, taking your top off and falling down outside a club is hardly shameful, let’s face it we’ve all done it.”
“It should be at his age, topless isn’t a good look for him.” Lucifer pointed out.
“Nothing wrong with showing a little moob, Lucifer, so what proper news is there John?” God asked.
“Not much,” John said with a shrug. “Some preacher of yours in America has announced that you told him personally that same sex marriages are a sin and whoever supports them will burn in hell as well.”
“As well as who?” God asked, confused.
“I think he means the gays.” Lucifer offered as he reached over and opened the paper to page three.
“What? You mean you get all the gay people Lucifer? I didn’t know that,” God looked more confused than ever. “When did that rule get made?”
“Not sure, it’s not something we ever consider when people arrive,” Lucifer answered. “When they first arrive, we just torture them until they work it out and admit why they’re down there. Until they know what they’ve done, we can’t get down to the real work of making them suffer you see. Their sexuality never comes up though, it’s not on the list of sins you sent down.”
“Humans get some strange ideas. Gabriel, ask Michael to find out who came up with this stupid idea about being gay being a sin,” God said with a frown. “And get onto Jesus and tell him to stop playing happy families and sort out his bloody church.”
“He’s trying, Father but every time he turns around, a wife has another D.I.Y. project or needs something from the shops.” Gabriel said, defending Jesus.
“Why? How many wives does he have?” John asked.
“Well, imagine all the nuns for the last two thousand years and then remember that they were all the brides of Christ and you understand the lad’s suffering. The crucifixion was just the start of him suffering for humanity’s sins,” Lucifer replied, hiding a smirk.
“All right Lucifer, just because we didn’t notice that line you slipped into the contract, there’s no need to be so smug. Now let’s go sit down and talk about this budget request of yours.”
“I put it in as a joke, I didn’t realise it would be binding.” Lucifer protested, trying to look innocent.
Standing up with his drink in his hand, God walked over to one of the snugs. Lucifer gave one last admiring look at the page three girl, then followed God to sit down. Gabriel stayed at the bar sipping at his lager.
“Gabriel, don’t be all day with that drink, I don’t want those letters delivered late,” God said over his shoulder.
God and Lucifer talked for about twenty minutes before God left with a wave to John and the two old men still playing pool.
“Sorry all, got to run, I’ve a mountain of prayers to answer. I got a prayer from a little girl last night that almost had me in tears. Her dad is away with the army and he hasn’t seen her new baby brother yet, so I need to put an angel to watch over him till he gets home,” God apologised as he headed for the stairs. “And Lucifer, pull your demons off the politicians in America, I’m getting a little sick of your lot whispering in their ears and causing trouble with those stupid ideas they keep spouting.”
“Nothing to do with me, I’ve not influenced any of that lot since the Nixon thing in the early seventies. It was a waste of resources; they’re doing better without my help,” Lucifer said, shrugging his shoulders.
“You mean they come up with that stuff on their own? Now that is scary,” God said with a shake of his head and then headed down the stairs. Lucifer came up to the bar, a smile on his face as he ordered another drink.
“You managed to get the extra funding then?” John asked.
“Most of it, I threatened industrial action that would cause a zombie apocalypse by refusing to take any new inmates. When I pointed out the upcoming disaster at the international Morris Dancer festival, he caved in. Seems a host of zombie Morris Dancers is more than he could bear.”
John paused as the mental image flashed across his mind. With another shudder, he grabbed himself a glass and poured himself another double whiskey.
“That was a real low blow even for you,” John said. “Zombie Morris Dancers is inspired, but still a low blow.”
Lucifer gave a grin. “Well I’m supposed to be evil aren’t I? Now I need to get off, got seats to go and see ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ being filmed tonight and need to get ready. Have you been watching it? That fat old guy is hilarious.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to call people fat anymore?” John asked.
Lucifer paused and grinned. He pointed to himself and said: “Hello, Lucifer here, the Prince of Darkness. Political correctness may be something I invented but it doesn’t mean I have to use it.”
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Part 1 is here
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