The Devil's Apartment

         “Religion is essentially the art and the theory of the remaking of man. Man is not a finished creation.”    ~Edmund Burke


A Lesson in Folly

         A strange creature man is. He is always determined to do no wrong. “I,” (as referred to one individual) “am never wrong. I am always right, and so are my opinions of life, religion, education, and the government.” Humans are conceited in their ways, selfish, cruel, unnerving towards one another. We treat our companions, families, and higher authorities like they are scum-bags  And why should we be treated like this? Don’t we all deserve the same respect?
         I, unfortunately, have sinned in these ways. Not that anyone likes lawyers, but alas, I have died  I have died a ripe, clean man—determined to set my career off to the highest levels  Yet, as I am a human being, I have made one-to-many mistakes in my young life. It so happens that my profession requires me to lie, so I do it best. I have wronged several innocent persons, and I am being punished for it.
         And now I am in the abode of the Devil
         Yes, the Devil  In fact, I am not in the literary vision of his fiery abode, but rather, I am in an apartment. The Devil so happens to live in an apartment. He lives like a human being  So, confronted with the fiend before me, I asked him why this was so.
         “To prove a point,” said the demon. “Why do I have to live in a fiery pit of sulfur and brimstone?”
         “Because that is how you are depicted,” I answered.
         “Wretched beings you are!” he gasped. “Don’t any of you know the concept of living quarters?”
         “Many famous authors have created your abode, Devil,” I said.
         “It be so. Very sad it is.”
         The Devil, if you will, was a very tiny “man.” His skin was completely red—blood red. His face was that of innocence, very child-like, with a pug nose and sharp, clear eyes. His head was devoid of hair, and had no mustache. He had two large, stub horns atop his huge head, like the horns of a rhinoceros. His ears were pointy and sharp like an elf’s. His feet were cloven and dark like those of a horse. He had a sharp, pointed tail wrapped around his waist; he released it regularly when he needed to “whip the air.” He wore white undergarments to cover his genitalia. Lastly, he wore a black vest around his naked upper portion, covering his chest. His build was thin, his tone very muscular.
         He was a very blood-sausage of a villain
         “How do you like it?” he asked me. “Does it seem fitting for such an occasion?” He sneered when he said this, his voice sarcastic and childish.
         “I will not be deceived by you, imp,” I replied. “Though I have sinned in the eyes of my Holy Lord, I wish for my redemption.”
         “I shall see about that request,” he snickered.
         We were standing in, what humans back on earth would call, the living room. There was but a single carpet, colored yellow, a television alone in the corner, and a table. The walls were colored black, and a roof was absent; there were many-colored clouds replacing it, mostly red and orange. The television had a blank, flashing screen, with the words “ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE” printed across it. On the table were two decks of playing cards. There was also a red, four-pronged pitchfork beside it.
         “Be as it may,” said the demon, breaking the silence. “Come,” he continued, giving me one of his clawed hands, “let us take a small journey to and from the earth ."
         I accepted his invitation. “Where shall we go?”
         “Anywhere that requires entrance,” he said. “Anywhere that I want to go.”

         He led me to a small corridor, away from the living room. Here it was devoid of light. I heard a horrendous orchestra of piano music emitting from somewhere. I also heard the cackling of a thousand flames.
         “Here is the Hall of Doors,” said my captor. “Here is where I journey through the earth. There are millions here, but we’ll journey through only three.”
         He opened the first, which was on the left. We were surrounded in a bright flash of awesome light.

         I saw myself standing before a battlefield of magnificent proportions. Thousands of dead bodies everywhere  Blood staining the decaying grass, the moaning of the dying soldiers  There were hundreds of them, including horses and drummers. I heard an evil organ-piano in the distance. It was the most sinister of sounds  I even saw before me water buckets, trumpets, and flags laying on the hard surface of the earth.
         “Here are the grounds of war,” said the Devil “It is here that humans use their foolishness just to prove a point  They sacrifice their lives to prove that their opinions are correct, and not anyone else’s avail.”
         “Truth be told,” I said to him. “I despise war ”
         “Follow me through the fields,” he said.
         “Can they see us?” I asked.
         “Human folly doesn’t allow them to see those who are invisible,” the imp answered me.
         “But they are injured!” I gasped, clutching my hair. “They are true patriots, fighting because they love their country!”
         “Here is where you don’t understand, lawyer,” he said. “Humans only see one side of a story. Quit your gibberish, and follow me!”
         I did as he requested.
         He led me through the fields, over the thousands of dead bodies, to a small ditch near a dark, desolate, broken road. There was a line of telephone poles across it, and crows perching on the wires. He pointed to the ditch, looking down inside.
         “This here is the root of all human folly!” he ejaculated.
         I saw before me a million (or more) small, white linen sacks, with an insignia written in black print across the center. The symbol, if I shall add, is the one we associate with money (which is $).
         “Money!” I gasped.
         “Yes. The very substance humans need in order to function in society  It’s all part of what I call the Ladder of Social Status.”
         “A social ladder?” I suggested.
         “Yes, my friend. The Social Ladder is bizarre and ignorant. Humans begin at the bottom rung of a ladder, and their mission is to climb to the top. The only means by which to accomplish this task? MONEY!! And which humans reach the top very quickly? The filthy, disgusting rich!”
         “And your point?” I asked.
         “My point is that when money falls into the wrong hands, problems are born. That is why governments and big businesses can do what the hell they want  Is there such a thing as a perfect government? Capitalism? Socialism? Or the like? Though I absorbed greedy souls, it is a dirty task, and one worth groping over.”
         “I am confused by your riddles, Devil,” I told him.
         “Come,” he said. “Back to my abode.”

         We went back to the Devil’s apartment.
         “I like the souls of those who are dark and greedy,” he told me, leading us out of the dark corridor. “I see humans as ignorant and foolish.”
         “And they are,” I agreed. “However, if the Holy Lord made us perfect, then what good would it have done? I can’t see the point in having a society where everyone is the same—same clothes, status, families, and the like. It would be boring.”
         “Ah! But you’re wrong, I’m afraid!”
         “How so?”
         The Devil paused.
         “How so?” I asked again.
         “Eh....” he paused.
         “There is no answer, imp,” I said.
         “Ah  But there is. I had to think for a moment. How about a game of cards?”
         “But...” I protested.
         “Come,” said he of the Darkness.
         He led me to the table in the living room. We sat down, our legs folded. He grabbed both decks of cards.
         “I have two decks,” he began. “One is Human Wisdom, and the other is Human Folly. I shall shuffle both together, and you will deal five cards.”
         It was so. He shuffled both decks together, and he asked me to cut. I was disturbed by the treacherous sound of the organ-piano. The Devil’s smile was large and wicked, his eyes staring at me coldly.
         “If you want to save yourself, beat me,” he said, handing me the deck.
         “What game?”
         “Poker,” he replied.
         I dealt five cards to each of us. He fanned his pile in front of his wicked, childish face, moving them into some kind of order. I held mine in the same fashion. I had three Aces, a Jack, and a Two.”
         “Any trump cards?” I asked.
         “No. That is cheating,” he said.
         “You go first,” I offered.
         He did. He threw three of his cards away, and drew three from the pond on the tableau. I saw his tail wave behind him. I ignored the horrendous sound, and then I felt it get dreadfully hot. I loosened my neck-collar to gain air.
         “Your turn,” he said.
         “Okay.”
         I threw away one card, the deuce. I drew one card. It was another Jack.
         Now I knew, at that very moment, what the Devil’s Game was. It was a test. I was going to beat him at his own game.
         “Do we bet?” I asked.
         “We could,” he snickered. “What do bet?”
         “My soul,” I said. “I give you my soul, if you beat me.”
         “And what do I give you?” he asked me.
         “Paradise.”
         We shook hands in agreement. He snickered some more, and laid his hand upon the tableau.
         “I have three aces,” he told me. “You must have something less, eh?”
         I laid my hand down. His eyes bulged.
         “I have three aces to match, and a pair of Jacks. I win, Devil!!”
         “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he screamed. “HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE??? NO DAMNED SOUL BEATS THE DEVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!”
         And, at that very instant, he grasped his head, and the whole room began to tremble in a mighty quake. And when the quake was over, everything within that small room of the Devil’s apartment was frozen—covered in a shiny, blue sheath of cold, shivering ice.
         “Who is the foolish one, now?” I asked as all hell became frozen.