Posted tagged ‘Inferno’

O come all ye suffering

February 2, 2011

Long Hair was in the Inferno that was hell. A million souls cried out in anger as he sped along the corridors of the damned. A radio played incessantly in Lucifer’s chamber and was tuned to the Metal Chainsaw Show on radio 666. The driver hit the brakes and the car circled four times before stopping. Long Hair stared out the window at multitudes of howling hoarders greedily wheeling huge bags of swag.

“Bankers.” He barked.

The guardian god of wealth, Plutus, watched over the avaricious as they grinded the wheels. Gulping down some Jameson’s, Long Hair figured they were getting off lightly. Lemmy and the gang from Motorhead knew what to do with bankers. At that, Get Back in Line thundered from Hell’s speakers.

Exploring the nether world of the dead he came across a cantina and entered. It was populated by various demon minions and reeked of grime and mud. Ordering a Jameson’s, Long Hair was accosted by a sot.

“He doesn’t like you.” The cursed drunkard pointed to a hell-spawned fiend in the corner. “I don’t like you either.”

“Shut it.” shouted Long Hair and he picked up a barstool and leathered the hides of all the patrons. He set new levels of violence that would never be matched; no one was left alive. In the aftermath, you would think a bomb had hit the place. Nervously, the barman managed to phone Satan and with a puff of brimstone, the devil appeared. After a brief whisper with the bartender Satan approached Long Hair.

“Um, how would you like a few crates of Jameson’s, if you’ll, uh, leave the premises?”

Long Hair lifted his hand and Satan cowered expecting an incoming but Long Hair only scratched his oily hair.

“Tell you what. You’ve got some good furnaces down here. Make me some new wheels of steel and I’ll blow town.”

This was a deal the devil couldn’t refuse and Long Hair got his Jameson’s and pimped ride. Telling Satan, he’ll come back again someday, he roared off with the reverberating sounds of the Metal Chainsaw Show cutting the air. Satan muttered under his breath. “Thank God, he’s gone.”

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