This is a re-post of a short story I first began posting in September 2016, when I first joined steemit.
The story was first published in 2013 as an e-book and is based heavily, in location on my old local pub and my good friend who worked behind the bar.
“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.”
To be continued.