“…let them not bring destruction on the sons of thy servant, my God;
for these are malignant, and created in order to destroy.” —The Book of Jubilees, 10:5
The studio lights in the rafters made everything glow beneath them, leaving not even the slightest hint of shadow. Hanging above the cameras, a small “APPLAUSE” sign added to the glow, cutting through the acrid smoke.
Upbeat theme music began blasting from the speakers, as a familiar and smooth male announcer thundered, “Welcome to Trickster’s Jubilee! The Underworld’s favorite game show! And here’s your host, Jack Paaaaaimon!”
The invisible announcer sang out “Paimon” for several seconds, while the in-studio audience cheered and applauded ecstatically.
The curtains on the side of the stage parted and a distorted, but oddly handsome man in a tailored black suit trotted to center stage, waving to the cheering crowd.
“Hellooo, Hell!” Jack Paimon’s unnaturally white, oversized teeth gleamed. “Who’s ready to play Trickster’s Jubilee?” He gave an animated bounce. “Norm! Why don’t we meet tonight’s first contestant!”
The host gestured to stage left and two scantily-clad female succubi pulled the heavy red velvet curtains open to reveal the terrifying demon contestant standing at a podium. He was an impressive nine feet of shadow and muscle, with a fierce snarl and black eyes set so deeply they appeared as bottomless chasms. Jutting from the sides of his head, two massive, twisted horns, the blackest obsidian, seemed to absorb the light from the stage set. To his right was the game show’s giant wheel of chance, brightly colored and arrayed with small, flashing carnival lights.
The announcer’s voice came again from offstage. “Thanks, Jack! Our first contestant this evening goes by the name Loki!”
Loki smiled and nodded to the camera from behind his podium. The audience, composed entirely of demons, clapped excitedly. A few in the crowd whistled their approval and encouragement.
The announcer continued, “Loki hopes to use his time Upstairs to really raise some hell and win more valuable time with the mortals! Let’s wish him luck!” Again the “APPLAUSE” light flicked on and the crowd of fiends clapped enthusiastically.
The host, Jack Paimon, bounded to the far side of the stage and lifted his absurdly long and slender microphone. “Welcome Loki! Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself!”
Loki smiled. “Thanks Jack! I’m super excited to be here!” His voice, a deep guttural growl. “I’ve watched Trickster’s Jubilee ever since I can remember! Huge fan of the show! Hi Grandma!” He waved at the camera, and smiled, baring ferocious beast-like teeth.
“Very nice.” Jack Paimon continued, “Tell us more about your family and what you like to do in your downtime, Loki.”
“Yes, I have a lovely wife, Sigyn, here with me today in the audience, and our two amazing sons, Narfi and Váli. My favorite hobbies are creating knots in all sorts of things, causing small earthquakes, and raising wolves.” Then gave a fist pump and shouted “Go wolves!”, as the crowd once again clapped their enthusiastic support.
“Wonderful!” Jack Paimon proclaimed. “Norm! Let’s tell Loki what he could win today!”
Soaring heavy metal music shook the set. Norm, the announcer, spoke over a video that now played onscreen for the viewers at home.
“Loki! Tonight’s prize is a luxury Earthly-bound vacation!” The studio audience reacted with oohs and ahhs. Video rolled that featured a shot of Earth from space. The camera zoomed in on the planet, revealing a beautiful city near an ocean.
Norm’s voiceover continued, “Enjoy your incredible, extended 100-year stay in unspoiled and luxurious surroundings for you and your guests! You’ll each take possession of a 5-star mortal coil! While there, you’ll visit the finest sites of depravity and indulgence the United States has to offer! Create chaos, wreck havoc, and ruin lives!”
A collective “Ooh!” rose from the audience, as the video showed a montage of clips depicting illicit debauchery in Las Vegas, New Orleans, New York, Saint Cloud, and San Francisco.
As the video faded to black, a spotlight illuminated one of the succubus on stage, standing beside a small, ornate, and glowing purple crystal bottle on a pedestal. The netherworld game show model waved her hands around the bottle and flashed a fiendish grin at the crowd as the announcer’s voice continued: “But that’s not all, Loki! You’ll also receive a chalice of Taylor Swift’s Primordial Essence, enough to fuel your demonic evolution for a millennium! This rare and potent substance could boost your magical powers, upgrade your infernal form, or even grant you new abilities! You’ll also enjoy a free one-year subscription to Netflix!” The audience erupted into applause.
Loki stood alone at his podium, eagerly clapping his clawed hands.
“Wouldn’t we all love to see Loki win that?” Jack Paimon urged the audience. Raucous cheers filled the studio once again. He continued, “Okay, we all know how to play Trickster’s Jubilee. Loki! Let’s go!” With a wave of his arm, the entire crowd in the studio shouted in unison: “Spin! That! Wheel!”
Loki approached the massive, radiant game show wheel and spun it firmly. The audience applauded as the lights whirled and the wheel clicked around and around before coming to a stop on a space that read “A Small Cat.” The audience gasped in unison.
“Oh Loki, that’s a rough one!” Jack Paimon said with a wink at the camera. The audience groaned and hooted; this promised to be interesting.
“So are you ready, Loki? You’re a good player, that’s why you’re here…I believe you can do this!” Jack Paimon encouraged. “Norm, can we get one day on the clock?”
A spotlight shown on a large clock that appeared on stage, indicating a full day on Earth.
Jack Paimon looked at Loki and said somberly, “Good luck, contestant. Let’s start the clock…now.”
And with that, Loki vanished from the set in a puff of brimstone smoke.
A long-haired cat, fur matted a grimy white, scuttled down an alley. The city’s symphony assaulted his senses: a discordant roar of car horns, shouts, pulsing street music, the wail of sirens, and the rumble of omnipresent buses and trucks. This cacophony, jarring at first, had been forgotten in Loki’s near millennium underground.
All demons knew the rules: Loki had 24-hours on Earth to complete his task. To win, he must trick a human into committing at least five transgressions.
Loki knew according to demonic code, a ‘transgression’ simply meant somehow getting a human to violate a law or societal moral code. A transgression didn’t haven’t to be something monumental, like murder or adultery. Whether a small white lie that abuses trust, or a violent armed-robbery, it’s all equal in the eyes of the Universe. Violate a moral code or exploit the social contract, and a human commits a transgression or a sin.
But the game added a challenging twist: he had manifested in the form of a small cat. Loki was now small and relatively weak, lacked the ability to talk, had no thumbs, and was a filthy mess.
He imagined the Trickster’s Jubilee audience that was watching right at that moment laughing at him in his current feline form. Loki wondered why the wheel couldn’t have instead landed on “Drug Dealer” or “Salesman”—demons were such assholes.
If Loki failed to accomplish his task, he’d lose and be sent back to Hell, where he’d sit for another millennium until his next opportunity came. There were strict Laws of the Universe that everything had to follow, and only a limited number of demons were permitted on Earth at one time.
By law, a demon could only appear on Earth for three reasons:
1. Being appointed to the domain by Satan himself
2. Being summoned by a human believer using their specific name, or
3. By defying all odds and winning Trickster’s Jubilee.
Loki was discouraged by the situation he now found himself in. Tempting humans to transgress was easy enough to do if you’re a sleazy drug dealer—next to impossible if you’re just a mangy cat.
Two scraggly, tattooed punks appeared from around the corner, approaching Loki in the alley.
“Hey buddy, you scared?” One of them stooped and offered Loki his hand to sniff.
Loki was skeptical and eyed them warily.
“It’s okay, I’m a friend of cats.” The man said quietly. He was gangly and dressed head to toe in black leather and spikes. In any other host body, Loki might have welcomed this encounter. But being barely four pounds and now armed only with tiny keratin claws, the once-fierce demon was hesitant.
Then it hit him, the smell of another cat. Loki cautiously approached the man.
The man gently stroked his head and continued talking softly, as though to a baby.
Loki purred and the man’s face lit up. “See? He likes me. I have a way with cats.”
“Yeah man, you’re a regular cat whisperer.” The other man with dyed black hair and eyeliner snarked.
“I miss my cat, man. Cats are so awesome. I’ve been so bummed since Mister Biggles passed away. This is like, some kinda sign from the universe.” Then he spoke to Loki, “Do you want to come to my house and live with me?” Loki couldn’t help but wonder what killed the man’s last cat, but recognized this opening. He submissively leaned into the man’s outstretched hand, and softly purred.
“I think it’s a little girl cat.” The second man said.
“How the fuck can you tell that?” The crouching man with green hair asked.
“Well it’s little…and white, for starters. And it has longish fur.”
“I like girl cats. They don’t piss around the apartment as much. Come on girl, you’re coming home with me.”
The man scooped up Loki and tucked the cat inside of his jacket.
“First order of business is to find you some food.” He comforted, gently scratching the demon cat’s neck.
The trio made their way to a bodega, and the punk carrying Loki made his way to the back of the store to the pet food shelf. He grabbed three cans of 9 Lives and stuffed them into the pocket of his leather jacket, while his friend distracted the man at the counter by purchasing a pack of cigarettes.
The audience erupted into hoots and cheers.
“One transgression! Stealing cat food? Oh that’s so delightfully sweet…and naughty!” Jack Paimon purred. “Just four more transgressions to go, and our contestant will win the luxury stay for one hundred years!”
Loki sensed this, and felt a small shiver of excitement and anxiety. Despite being a cat, he’d actively participated in getting a human to commit a transgression. Sure, it was only shoplifting, but Loki figured that a point is a point.
The three soon entered a darkened apartment, and the man opened his jacket for Loki to jump out. The sparsely furnished place reeked of sweat and cigarettes. A mound of dirty dishes filled the sink, and empty beer cans lined the countertops. The punk rocker opened a can of the stolen cat food and set it on the floor.
“Here you go, buddy.” He said, petting Loki’s back as the demon ate the foul-smelling goop.
“Whatcha gonna name it, Dave?” His friend asked.
“I don’t know, she’s so tiny and frail…something ironic maybe…”
Loki. Call me Loki. The demon cat thought.
“Chloe?” Dave questioned his thought aloud.
Loki, you idiot. Loki. Just say “Loki” and this ends right now.
“I like Chloe.” The friend agreed, cracking a beer from the fridge.
“Nah, it just popped into my head for a second. How about ‘Lucifer’?”
Lucifer? Are you kidding me?
“Call her ‘Lucy’, for short.” The friend quipped. “I like it.”
“Yeah, Lucy. You’re a sweet little thing.” Dave said. He grabbed a beer and joined his friend on the stained, collapsing couch.
The audience, watching the scene unfold through a giant portal on the set of the game show, groaned.
“Oh that’s bad news for our friend, Loki!” Jack Paimon quipped. “So close to saying your name!”
The audience erupted in laughter.
Dave and his friend, whom Loki learned was named Lenny, spent the next few hours drinking beer, listening to music, and complaining about their future prospects and the state of the world. As the hours passed, the music grew louder and the conversation more animated. Loki, or Lucy, as the demon was now called, glared at them from his perch on the arm of the couch.
Getting these slackers motivated to transgress was not going to be easy, and this idle behavior wasn’t scoring the demon any points. Manifesting as a cat gave Loki superb, albeit somewhat sensitive, hearing ability, and he could sense someone in the hallway outside.
Suddenly there was a tremendous and frantic banging on the door of the apartment. “Shut the fuck up in there! Turn that shit down!” A man’s voice bellowed from the other side. The angry racket startled Loki’s new intolerant ears, and being defenseless, he dove beneath a nearby chair for cover.
Dave leapt up and over the couch and yanked the door open. An angry, red faced middle-aged man stood his ground.
“What the fuck, man?” Dave growled.
“You…you bastards are blasting this shitty music and I’m downstairs trying to work! I can’t even think!” He tugged the lapels of his peach suit jacket. “You’re not the only ones who live here!” He shouted, puffing out his chest.
“Chill, man.”
“Don’t you tell me to chill. Some of us work for a living! I’m going to call the landlord and have you evicted. I’ve had enough of this shit.” The man sucked his teeth and ran a hand through his oiled hair and smoothed it back from his face, composing himself.
“Fine, fine. No need to get your panties in a wad. I’ll turn it down.” Dave slammed the door in his face before the man could say another word..
“Who the hell was that?” Lenny questioned.
“That douchebag, Todd, from downstairs. The asshole who drives that shitty red Beamer convertible.”
“Oh. Him. Yeah, he is a douche. Todd…Todd the wad.”
Dave turned the stereo down. “How about him saying ‘Some of us work for a living’? Well you know what, dude, some of us live here. Go to your office if you want quiet during your business hours.” He stomped his foot in defiance with each word: “Not! My! Problem!”
“I have half a mind to go kick-in his door and pound on him.” Lenny smirked.
“Pfft…‘Tell the landlord’…fuck you. Asshole scared my poor cat.” Dave paused and grinned. “Hey, I know how to get back at him. Come on, Lenny. Bring the cat.”
The audience clapped and cheered their approval.
“Looks like things are picking up, for Loki! He still needs four points, and there’s only 17 hours left on the clock!” Jack Paimon announced and gestured to the large timer above the supernatural viewing portal on the stage. “Let’s see what these transgressors have in store for their miserable little downstairs neighbor!”
The audience hushed and breathlessly watched to see what Dave would do next.
Lenny carried Loki and Dave grabbed the litter box, which the demon had already used several times. In addition to smelling awful, the 9 Lives cat food had given Loki a few bouts of diarrhea.
They exited the apartment building. “Over there!” Dave pointed at a red BMW convertible parked near the end of the block. Briskly crossing the street to the parked car, Dave dumped the contents of the litter box across the front seat.
“Scare my cat, you asshole, Todd.” Dave sneered.
The demons shouted their approval at this most unsanitary transgression.
“Oooh, that’s disgusting…and destructive! We love to see that, don’t we?” Jack Paimon pointed at the portal monitor and proclaimed, “Another point for our contestant!” The APPLAUSE light flicked on, and the audience erupted. “Three more points to go! Time’s a wastin’, Loki! We knew this was going to be a challenge for our contestant, but he’s managed to find a way to gather two points in under eight hours! Our kitty cat’s faring far better than expected!”
“Hey, before we head over to band practice tonight, I have something I need to take care of.” Dave opened the back doors of a rusty, black spray painted panel van and set the emptied litter box inside between guitars and amps. “Come on, Lucy, we’re going for a little ride.” Lenny gently set Loki in the back of the van, and closed the doors.
The van began moving up the street, Loki felt an overwhelming anxiety, and ran to the front of the van, where Dave was driving and Lenny sat shotgun. Loki tried to alert them; to tell them he was going to throw-up, but all that came out were strange, stressed yowls.
Lenny scooped Loki up from where he was standing with his slender cat legs on the center console. “It’s okay, girl.” He soothed, holding him against his chest and stroking the cat’s back.
Gack. Gack. Loki vomited up a ball of something soft and sour on the side of Lenny’s leather jacket.
“Oh shit man, a hairball. Disgusting!” Lenny contorted his face and gagged.
Dave hurriedly rolled down the driver’s side window, and with a quick scoop of his hand, flung the ball of sickness from the van.
“There. Better, ya baby?” Dave snarked at Lenny.
The vomited mass flew from the speeding van and smacked squarely in the face of a passing cyclist, causing him to crash into a parked car.
“Holy shit! Did you see that?” Dave laughed uproariously, looking in the rearview mirrors.
Hell erupted in applause..
“Oh that was a sneaky one! That’s three points for Loki, I believe. Judges?” Jack Paimon asked, looking to the side of the stage. “Yes! It’s good!” The host sucked his teeth, and observing the bloodied cyclist stagger to his feet, quipped, “Ooooh, that looks like it’s gonna leave a mark!”
The demons whooped and clapped, excited to have seen Dave’s utter disregard for a fellow human being.
“So, where are we off to before band practice?” Lenny asked.
“I have it on good intel, A-K-A, my little sister, that my dad is away on business, so I figured we’d swing by my folk’s house and I can hit up my mom for some cash. She’s also a sucker for cats, it runs in our family I guess. I’ll tell her Lucy should probably get to a vet. She just threw up, and she had the shits. Anyhow, I need better food for her, and all this shit costs money.”
“Nice! Think she’ll have any food for us too?”
“You know Naomi.” Dave assured him.
After twenty minutes or so, the mufflerless van rumbled to a stop in front of an ornate iron gate.
Dave pressed an intercom button and spoke loudly into the speaker. “Yes, I’m here to see Naomi Silver…this is her son, David, and Lenny. Oh, and I brought a new special friend to meet her!”
After a few seconds, the speaker crackled and a mature woman’s voice replied. “Dave, honey? Is that you? Come on up! It will be so nice to see you!”
The gates opened slowly, and the van made its way up the long driveway and came to a stop in front of the large brick estate. A sophisticated woman in an airy, gray peignoir threw open the front door and walked out to greet them.
“Hi, Mom!” Dave exited the van as a striking, silver-haired woman approached.
“Who’d you bring with you? I don’t see anyone else but Lenny.” She took a breath and dryly added, “Hi, Lenny.”
“What’d you think I got a girlfriend? Mom. Be real…” He teased her. “I wanted to show you…this!” He pulled the shaken white cat from behind the driver’s seat. “Meet my new sweetie, Lucy!”
“Oh well aren’t you just the most precious little thing!” Naomi cooed, reaching out to offer her hand for the cat to sniff. The cat squirmed, and Naomi caught sight of the animal’s underside. “I’m assuming you didn’t buy him from a reputable breeder?” She cleared her throat.
“Mom, you know me. Nah. Me and Lenny found her walking in the city near our apartment. Strangest thing—it was like it was meant to be. I swear we were walking along and she just appeared, you know?”
“Well, have you taken him to a vet?”
“Hey Dave!” Lenny called out as he exited the van, “If she’s a he then we can’t can’t be calling him ‘Lucy’. It’s either the full name, Lucifer, or we think of a different name.”
Ignoring him, Naomi addressed her son. “Well, Saint Bonifacius is in heat, and your adorable stray could have fleas, feline leukemia, or be some demon from hell, for all I know.” She took a deep breath.
“Hey Mrs. Silver,” Lenny said. “Saint Boni-fascist…that your cat’s name?”
“Actually, Lenny, her name is ‘Grand Champion Majestic Saint Bonifacius Albina Persian Mist of the Silver Love Nest NW’, and she is a purebred moon-faced Persian, three-time Cat Fancy cover model, and two time, All-Breed, CFA International Cat Show Winner.”
She took a breath and gave Lenny a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out.” Naomi softened her face and sighed. “She’s been in heat and her yowling is keeping me awake all damn night. Anyhow, he’s adorable, but he stays in the van. He can’t be anywhere near Saint Bonnie right now. She’s being bred by this year’s Western Regional Winner, which isn’t a National Winner, but Saint Bonnie is one of a kind. People will pay a small fortune for the kittens. Can you imagine your father if his cat was impregnated by a stray? Now there’s an abortion the old Republican might support.” She let out a quick cackle.
“Well, Mom, I actually came because I’m gonna need to borrow a couple dollars, you know, to take Lucy, I mean Lucifer to the doc. Just get her checked over, caught up on shots…you know. The usual stuff.”
“Uh huh.” Naomi Silver pursed her lips. “How much?”
“Wh-what?” Dave stammered.
“How much money are you hitting me up for now? Jesus David, I gave you $2500 for rent last month, now you’re back already? Oh, and don’t think I haven’t noticed how you only happen to come around when your father is away on business. You know I’m a softy. He’d tell you to get a job and cut your hair.”
“Thanks, Mommy.” Dave grinned as he tousled his green mohawk.
She clicked her tongue. “Well, leave Satan in the van and come inside to eat.”
“Lucifer.” Lenny corrected her.
It’s Loki, damnit. The cat thought.
“Ah yes, how could I possibly mess up a name that you clearly put so much careful thought into.” Naomi spun on her heels, leading the young men in through the front door.
Dave and Lenny were at the kitchen counter eating and catching Naomi up on their pathetic lives, when they all heard the front door close solidly.
“Naomi!” A man’s voice cheerfully called, “Naomi?” Dave’s father soon appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Oh there you are.” Then upon seeing Dave and Lenny, dryly added, “And lo-and-behold, the prodigal son hath returned.”
“Hi honey, glad you’re home safe from your trip!” Naomi cheerfully interjected, and moved across the kitchen to peck her husband on the cheek. “How was Boston, dear?”
“Fine. So what are you doing here?” He asked without skipping a beat or taking his eyes off Dave.
“Nice to see you too, Pops.” Dave quipped, stuffing his mouth with his last bites of sandwich.
“Did you come here to pester your mother for more money? How goes the job hunt…no…wait. I don’t even want to know. I pay nearly $300,000 for your school and you can’t even bother to look…”
“Sam,” Naomi interrupted, “Dave was telling me he’s still volunteering at the pet shelter. You should be proud of him, for giving back.”
Samuel Silver acknowledged with a grunt to show his disapproval. “Volunteering is noble, but some people do that and have a job. I take it that the hunk of garbage in the driveway is yours?”
“Yeah, it’s for hauling our band gear. We needed something bigger.”
“It’s an eyesore. Well, if you came here to hit your mother up for money, you can forget it. I’m cutting you off until you show some real effort in finding a job. We agreed: three years to screw around and play music, then you’d find an internship, or even come to work at my company, and put this nonsense behind you…but here we are. You’re five years out of college and despite having an Ivy League education, still insist on behaving like you’re sixteen.”
“Now Sam,” Naomi began, “I promised I’d give him a few dollars to take a cat he found to the vet and buy a few…”
Sam cut her off before she could finish. “Enough!” He shouted, slamming the briefcase he was still holding down on the kitchen’s marble countertop.
“Sam…”
“No. I’ve made up my mind. David! This home is my sanctuary. You roll up in here pestering your mother for money every damn time I’m out of town.”
As he spoke, the sound of a cat yowl cut him short.
Samuel turned to his wife. “Is Saint Bonnie…”
“Yes! She’s in heat. I have her outside by the pool. She’s inside the fence. I couldn’t take it anymore! It’s like she’s being tortured!” Naomi exclaimed. “I haven’t slept in two days. And yes, I called the breeder from the organization. He’s bringing Sir Malcolm over to stud her tomorrow. They’re flying in tonight from Seattle.”
“My little baby girl is going to have kittens before you know it.” Sam said with an upbeat tone.
“That? Breeding your cat for other rich assholes makes you happy, but helping your son out is too much? Fuck this, I’m outta here. Come on Lenny, let’s go.” Dave rose and threw on his jacket.
“I’ve carried your ass for twenty seven years! When will it end?” His father’s eyes squinted.
Naomi tried to calmly intervene, stepping between them, “Dave, you know how much Saint Bonnie means to your father. Don’t talk to him that way. Since his knee injury, he doesn’t golf, he doesn’t play tennis…this cat thing has been his only hobby for five years now.”
“Oh, I get it.” Dave spat. “The cat getting fucked delights you. Maybe I could let Sir Malcolm stud me…would that make you happy?”
Lenny snickered.
“At least the cat has never stolen from me!” Sam shouted.
“Are you bringing that up again? That was like a lifetime ago!”
“And you’ve never made any effort to pay me back. For any of it! You can’t even find a real job!” Sam fumed. “Even my cat hobby makes money…unlike that music of yours!”
“We’re outta here.” Dave fumed storming out of the kitchen, with Lenny trailing.
The demons watching cackled at the argument taking place.
Jack Paimon whispered in a dulcet tone, “Oooh! Nice dishonoring of the parents there—a classic sin really, but no Loki…so no point awarded.” He mocked, “Our contestant is unfortunately still locked in the van outside.”
The demonic audience shrieked with laughter at the announcer’s words.
“So, no money I guess?” Lenny asked, climbing into the van.
“Fuck them. I don’t need their money.” Dave fumed. “I’ve got a plan to get some revenge on that asshole.”
He picked up Loki who was standing impatiently on the driver’s seat.
“What are you gonna do?”
“My old man can get fucked.” Dave muttered. “Wait here.”
He walked briskly, carrying the cat around the side of the house. He came to a tall fence and scaled it to the mansion’s pool area on the other side.
Saint Bonnie, the beautiful pure white Persian approached him immediately, rubbing against his legs and circling Dave. “Who wants to have kittens? Saint Bonnie, want Lucifer here to put his demon spawn inside of you?” He asked the female cat in a sinister, mocking tone.
The prize-winning Persian arched her back and vocalized. Dave set Loki down. “Let’s go, boy.” He commanded his cat.
“We have another point for our contestant!” Jack Paimon announced with a lift of excitement in his voice.
The crowd snickered maliciously and watched as the cats mated on the concrete poolside, which was over as quickly as it started.
“Well, I think this is a first!” The host crooned. “Oh, the forbidden love…so romantic!” He wiped a pretend tear from his cheek as the audience cheered. “And so disrespectful to his father. Tsk Tsk.” He clicked. “Only one point remains…our contestant might actually pull this thing off! I wonder if the kittens will have his claws?”
The black spray painted van rumbled to a stop at the band’s practice studio. The square, windowless- cinder block building was set in a mostly abandoned area of the city. Thundering bass and drums could be heard from the parking lot.
Lenny grabbed his guitar from the back of the van, as Dave carried the nervous cat towards the building. When they entered the stale and smoky rehearsal space, the other two band members stopped playing and greeted them.
“Hey guys, meet Lucifer, my new cat.” Dave said, setting the cat on the floor. Loki nervously sniffed around the room as the band talked. It smelled of stale beer and cigarettes, just like the apartment.
“Why the hell did you bring a stupid cat? She better not piss and shit in here.” The drummer hissed.
“Relax, we can split. We were just coming from my parents’ place. I had to take the cat. I was hoping to get some sympathy money from my mom.”
Ignoring Dave and the cat, another man holding a bass guitar spoke up. “Fuck it. I don’t feel like playing. I fucked up my hand at work yesterday and my thumb is killing me. I’m cool with just having a few beers and chilling tonight.” The bass player took off his guitar and set it in a stand. He walked across the room and flicked on an old box television and pressed a button on a vintage video game console. “Who’s up for some Mario Brothers?”
“Oh hell yeah!” Lenny volunteered. “I’m in.” He opened a small fridge and retrieved a beer for himself.
“Great!” The drummer rose from behind his kit. “Let’s just fuck off again so we can fall apart on stage this weekend again and look like idiots.” He threw his sticks down on the snare drum, and the startled cat hid beneath a wooden rocking chair near Lenny.
“Relax, Vinnie. We’ve got three more days to rehearse before the gig.”
“Fuck you, Dave!” The drummer shouted, confronting Dave. “You swore you were dedicated, but there’s always something; it’s girls, or you’re too drunk, or you’re working at your pretend job…but a goddamn cat? You’re not serious. You’re never fuckin’ serious about this!” He gave Dave a shove. “We can find a new singer.” He threatened.
“Fuck you!” Dave shoved him back. “I made this goddamn band and I pay for everything.”
“You mean your mommy pays for everything!” The drummer, Vinnie yelled.
“Yeah, and she can pay for a new drummer. You’re a dime a dozen.”
“Fuck you!” Vinnie yelled, shoving Dave harder this time. The force of it caused Dave to lose his balance and he struggled to stay on his feet.
“Guys! Knock it off!” Lenny shouted as Loki slunk further beneath the empty wooden rocking chair.
Dave and Vinnie glared at one another. Dave’s hands were clenched tight into fists.
“You know what? Fine.” Vinnie stormed past him to the fridge and cracked a beer. He spun and plopped down hard in the rocking chair.
Yaaaaaaarrr! Came a pained shriek from the cat, whose tail was crushed beneath a leg of the chair and concrete floor.
Dave grabbed Vinnie by the back of his shirt and began pummeling him with his fists. Blow after blow rained down on the drummer as he tried to cover his head.
There was suddenly an audible crack and the smell of burning hair and sulfur as the floor of the room filled with smoke.
“Congratulations!” Confetti and ash fell from the ceiling, and the ghoulish audience went wild with guttural cheers and applause. Jack Paimon raised his arms, victoriously, “We have a winner!”
Loki stood once again behind the contestant podium. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his tail, he smiled an enormous, horrific grin. His wife and children ran to his side, and gleefully hugged him while jumping up and down with excitement.
Mother Earth's Children 