A Hell Of A Thing

Cursing is an art few take the time to master.

“My new washing machine is cursed. I want a refund.”

Mark Tolby had been a repairman for thirty years. “Hold on. What’s going on?”

“It rocks when the agitation starts. It moves around in a demonic dance like some devil is trying to get out.” Mrs. Fanny Thomas pointed a shivering finger at her washer. “It eats my clothes. It spits them out in rags.”

“It was perfectly fine when you picked it up. I check out every washer I sell.” Mark jumped back as the machine agitator whirred into action without the power cord being plugged in.

“What the devil?" A dull red seething glow emanated from inside the tub. “When did this start?”

“My husband hates doing laundry. He started cursing when I asked him to sort colors from white’s, then my washing machine acted as if it was alive.”

“Hmm,” Mark muttered, reaching into his tool box and pulling out a crucifix and a vial of holy water. He sprinkled a few drops on the crucifix and approached the bedviled machine. “This isn’t covered by warranty.”

The machine jumped back, agitator whining, spinning so fast it was hard to see the red little demon flying out. “A Hell of a ride,” it muttered, shaking like a leaf. “Next time you curse up something from the underworld, don’t forget to let us go.”

In the blink of an eye, the little devil disappeared. “It’s fixed. Tell your husband to watch how he curses. Next time things could be worse.”

The shaken owner nodded dumbly, apologized, and agreed to accepting the machine back home.

“What happened here?” Margo, Mark’s wife asked, walking in and sniffing the smell of sulfur in the air.

“”Another lazy husband trying to sell his soul and not knowing what to wish for,” Mark replied.

WC 300