NEGOTIATING HELL: a sequel to CS Lewis' Screwtape Letters. Chapter 1-Talking to a wall

“No!”

Flames exploded from Satan as he howled at the minion. The little fallen angel was bowled into ‘The Evil’ presence by his fellow minions--funny, how they disappeared. The unfortunate minion raised the subject of unionizing against Satan, as tactfully as he could. The stagnant atmosphere, now rocked with a volcanic fireball throughout the hollows.

“Why not?” screeched the little black greaseball who triggered Satan’s wrath.

“Because I said so!” exploded Satan. He belched, singeing the room to a crispy black. His eructations smelled of deviled eggs.

 “That’s not a good argument,” stared the creature, framing his stubby wings as protection for his skull.

Satan stomped his foot threateningly. Encouraged at not being incinerated, the minion stepped forward to push his case. The oily imp had temerity. He was sick of the abuse from the father of all blast furnaces.

“Let me repeat,” Satan shrieked. “This is Hell. I am the Lord of the Losers and no, you can’t unionize.” Satan felt better after his tirade; like stretching before exercise.

“Sorry, but times have changed,” the courageous minion continued. “Fewer people today, fear Your Loathsomeness. If humans can be entitled, so can we.” The minion continued. “It’s tougher these day with contraception. Working conditions are harder with soul-quota inflation. We need healthcare, including vision and dental and paid holidays. We want 3 union stewards, to avoid Your Wrathfulness. We’d like vacations in Siberia or Minnesota. You know … someplace comfortable. Florida is too humid; it makes our tails frizzy. Besides Florida has hurricanes. We get enough hot air, listening to you.”

Satan spat. No one in hell stood up to him. Drawing the short straw, this arrogant demon was calm, despite Satan’s potential to devour him. Imps did not relish scenic tours of Satan’s insides. Who knows who else was in there? Satan killed messengers, which begot the phrase, scared to death. However, rebellion was their one-and-done admission ticket. It’s not like they could go to hell again. The minion finished his speech, surprised to be uncharred. Another imp with a grimy orange tint, was loitering in Satan’s lobby. Since fallen angels are sexless, he identified as female like earthlings do now. Orange was milling around, fingering the ornamentation, acting like he didn’t know anything. Anticipating the outcome, he continued to eavesdrop. It was loud, who could help it? However, if caught, he would deny everything.

Just then a rooster crowed.

Satan hesitated when he heard the cockcrow but refocused on the black minion. The minion blinked silently. The Prince of Darkness drooled lava, speechless. The dark minion stood his ground with an apprehensive, yet confident look. What’s the worst that could happen? He was already in Hell.

“Get out. Get out of my sight you miserable, ungrateful cretin! I should banish you to…” Satan stopped to think, “room 222. I could make you spend eras alone and in chains,” threatened Satan.

“Oh please, may I?” begged the minion, yearning for a nice vacation. 

Satan banged the desk with his fist as it burst into flames. “Dang” swore Satan, “that’s the 3rd time this week and it’s only Monday.” Satan shifted his attention to the minion.

The black minion was scratching a tick mark on the wall asking, “what week is this?” Ignored, the minion headed for the door, when Satan saw his flip flops. Satan made a mental note to delete all flip-flop inventories from the company shoe store. Satan hated flip-flops. They left slimy marks and they sounded annoying. Their noise stole attention. Mostly, it was because he couldn’t wear them. His feet were cloven and bunioned. He could not allow his imperfections seen.

Satan was alone. “Unionize? -- what were they thinking!” Satan wondered if God had problems. He’d ask Him next week, when they talked again.

For eons, Satan ran Hell with an iron fist. No one ever made a peep. He mentored notables such as Hitler, Stalin and the Impaler; none of whom he trusted. They burned in special locked wards, for being too smart. But why a union? And why now? Satan couldn’t remember when he had not abused everyone. He was never known to discriminate. Everyone was treated like garbage. He was the perfect, equal opportunity employer.

Racism was the only sin, of which, Satan was not guilty…

<See below link for Chapter 2: “Jerking Satan’s chain & the burning laptop”> 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Talking to a wall

Chapter 2: Jerking Satan’s chain & the burning laptop

Chapter 3: “Hmm …. I guess I read that wrong”

Chapter 4: The devil is in the details

Chapter 5: And what did they want to organize?

Chapter 6: Nothing is ever good enough

Chapter 7: What could be worse?

Chapter 8: The learning curve

Chapter 9: It’s all in the sales pitch

Chapter 10: Uh, huh?

Chapter 11: Just the first day

Chapter 12: Let’s get comfortable

Chapter 13: Take a load off

Chapter 14: The 2nd day & who is messing with whom?

Chapter 15: The meeting of the minds—to waste

Chapter 16: The minions in the Caucus Room or a mind is a terrible thing

Chapter 17: Stop & smell the roses

Chapter 18: Same evening, different place or the mindless are meeting

Chapter 19: Paper, Rock or Scissors

Chapter 20: My issues are stupider than yours!

Chapter 21: You have the right to remain silent

Chapter 22: Let the stupidity begin

Chapter 23: When in hell, it doesn’t matter what day it is

Chapter 24: Insolence at its finest

Chapter 25: Striking for the heck of it

Chapter 26: The signing ceremony

Chapter 27:  Mary's contingency is fulfilled