“Leon, that little angel fella fixed my plumbing back there. I haven’t been able to bust a nut in months; I NEED this!”
Bud pats the box-shaped demon, and it hums in response. “See? Besides, Chuzz ain’t here yet. Your axe will split the mother fucker’s face open anyway, so just let me bust a nut! All right, man?”
Leon’s cheek burns, and he remembers the cock slap from a few days ago.
“No,” he answers firmly.
From behind the demon, Satan’s voice booms, “C’mon now, let your friend get his dick sucked. Then we can have an epic battle if you’d like.”
Bud crams his limp noodle into the hole. Leon raises his axe to charge Satan, but Bud screams and Leon swings instead at the box-shaped demon biting Bud’s prick.
Satan laughs loud and heartily. Leon grunts and mumbles about “demon dicks” as his blade slices through the thick painted shell like Mexican food through a fat kid. Dark cracks form, spidering bloody veins across the shell as though it were a huge square egg. Leon hefts the axe, screams, “Die, pussy fart, DIE,” and hacks into the other side of the glory hole demon.
Behind him, Satan bellows, “NOOOOOOOOOO!”
To his left, Bud screams, “Gawd damn it, Leon, it was gonna blow me!”
Leon hacks on. Each swipe of the axe cleaves deeper than the last. The glory hole demon shudders, and its shell falls away in four thick chunks, revealing the hideous fleshy demon within. Mouths of all sizes suck and squeal, making sounds like children burning as big floppy dongs of various colors and sizes slap and wave obscenely at Leon. Bud steps back, picks up his M-16 and aims it at the mass of lips and dicks. The creature howls in a thousand voices, and the air is suddenly filled with the sound of buzzing.
Called to their dying brother glory hole demons, an army of metal boxes spins through time and space to converge at his side. As each arrives, it jumps atop the last one, and their shells go soft and rubbery long enough to join together. Soon the dying demon is completely absorbed into the growing monster as hundreds of glory hole demons join into one massive box-shaped fiend.
Satan strains against the tons of earth holding him down and yells, “That is the single sexiest thing I have ever seen!”
They’ve been walking toward the big red guy for a while. What looked like a close landing site turned out to be pretty far away once they were on sanda firma. This close up, Satan’s ass looks enormous on a geographical scale, like they are walking toward a pair of mountains with people spewing in instead of lava spewing out.
All the dust is playing havoc with Death’s allergies. The stuff has infiltrated Death’s hoodie, and he isn’t too happy about it. It itches, makes him want to strip and find a nice pool of water to jump into. Or maybe a pile of bodies he can roll around in. The smell of desiccated ground fills his nose over the stink of puke.
Jesus doesn’t seem to mind too much. He’s probably used to it after spending all that time hanging out in the desert.
The earth rolls and shakes again. Death and Jesus hold onto each other and then dive for the ground. A fresh clump of people and demons fall down the long chasm. The humans scream all the way down; the demons try to snatch people out of the air and devour them before they hit.
A cloud of dust rises so high into the air that Death is reminded of a sand storm. It passes as they walk, but he gets a fresh coat of the stuff on every itching inch of his body. It’s irritating, but the walk is doing him some good, as is the ground tossing and turning. It is sobering him up. He is Death, but he is going to meet the man. Well, the other man.
Jesus appears unperturbed and marches on like a crusader minus the shiny armor.
Another quake shakes them to their knees, and Death realizes that Satan is struggling to get up. He shakes sand off his massive body and turns his head to glare at the approaching men. One of the bastard’s rotting eyeballs is the size of the car they drove off the cliff.
“Fucker is huge!” Death mutters and looks at the blade of his scythe and then back at the big red guy.
“Just hold the fuck up!” Jesus roars. He has a bottle of vodka in one hand and a can of Red Bull in the other. He chugs one, then the other and shakes his head. Death is still buzzed, but he is beginning to think that now might be a good time to hit that vodka bottle again.
“Goddamn this stuff is good!” Jesus says to himself. His words are slurred and come out slowly.
Death has his eye on the giant box that is coming together before their eyes. It is huge and getting bigger by the second. He grins at it, can’t help himself. Now that is some old-school shit. Just the kind of thing to temp the Ddevil into hauling his ass out of the sand. There are more boxes arriving every second. They fall off the cliff and hit the ground, bounce into the air and then stack themselves up.
Satan breaks his gaze away from the box for a second to consider the men walking toward him. “Not another pair of losers,” he sighs in a voice that rumbles and shakes the ground.
“’Who the fuck are you calling loser, you red asshole?”
“Red asshole’s back there, where you should be heading. I don’t have time for any more visits from secret agents, so just fuck off.”
“Look at me!” Jesus’s voice comes out loud and clear, and it seems that every eye in the world turns to look in his direction. Even the people falling into Satan’s ass spin to stare at the man as they scream.
“Well if it isn’t the mad hatter himself. Sup, J-man?” The Devil smiles. “Wanna blowjob? I can get some of the chicks from up on the road to come take care of you. How does that sound? Maybe a boy, since I couldn’t tempt you the last time. Remember that Syrian broad with the legs that went all the damn way up?”
“I remember the desert, and I remember the longing. I remember being scared, and I also remember being pretty pissed off when your guys staked me to a cross and left me to rot.”
“That was daddy. I didn’t have anything to do with it. I may have whispered a few things to that Judas guy, just to unbalance him, but it didn’t take much. He fell for a few coins and the chance to have his name live alongside yours. Neat trick, that, giving people what they want.”
The massive box continues taking on a life of its own above the desert. It rises out of the sand and floats a few feet off the ground. Death can’t take his eyes off the thing. It is massive, perpetually shifting and changing, and it has three gigantic pulsing holes in it.
“That was the old me. This is the new. So what are you going to do?” Satan challenges. “The Apocalypse didn’t go as planned, and we seem to be the two biggest deities around. So how do we handle it?”
“Yeah. Ain’t that some shit? I’m sure you didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Nah. It all went to hell when an old lady killed my son. Do you have any idea how hard I worked to bring him into the world? Then he gets a knitting needle in his eye before he can come into his full power. Shame.”
Jesus nods.
“Say, who is tall dark and handsome next to you?”
“Oh Death. He came along to help out.”
“No fucking shit!” Satan squints at the man in the dark hoodie. “Death, I am a HUGE fan. HUGE! Can I get your autograph before I stuff you in my ass?”
“Yeah, all right.”
Satan squirms a little more, and a massive arm unearths itself. Once the ground stops shaking, Death moves in and lowers his scythe. There isn’t a lot of room, what with all the screaming faces bubbling on the surface of his skin, people and demons both that writhe beneath a layer of red. Death moves the blade up and down a few times, and the demonic flesh sizzles with a smell like burned chicken. He steps back and examines his work.