Oh
the ridicule Beelzebub endured every year come late December when he
haunted the halls of the uptown mall, searching for the best deals on
clothes and shoes and sunglasses. The other denizens of the infernal
pits would torment him for this (verbally, of course, not the blades
and fire and acid sort of torment reserved for their day jobs,
because who wants to take their work home for them?). Not that they
had a problem with shopping. No, demons loved the infatuation people
had for mindless consumption and consumerism. It was like gluttony
and greed and pride and avarice all rolled into one, and on Black
Friday, they could even squeeze in a little wrath. Few activities
aside from genocide and DVRing Jersey Shore* could be so evil. No,
they teased him for going to Christmas sales.
“I'm
just shopping to over commercialize the religious holiday. Just
trying to undermine the message of goodness and generosity and care
for one's fellow man by spreading the enthusiasm for rampant
selfishness.”
But they knew the truth. He was an amazing demon, but his shopping addiction had nothing to do with it. Sometimes a demon just wanted a stylish suit.
But they knew the truth. He was an amazing demon, but his shopping addiction had nothing to do with it. Sometimes a demon just wanted a stylish suit.
*Jersey
Shore may not seem so evil, but it is actually a lynchpin in one of
the more diabolical and secretive of Hell's nefarious schemes too
complex to discuss in this post card.
Originally mailed to M. Wilkes in Ridgeland, Mississippi
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