Damned or Free

Sensitive Content: Profanity, Drunk Driving



Clayton wiped the bar with a moist rag that smelled like sour milk. The bar wasn't dirty. It was just a way to kill some time before the second-shift crowds filed in. They were always a rowdy lot and the mindless repetition of cleaning dirt that wasn't there helped him mentally prepare for the inevitable mayhem. Tonight would be especially chaotic. Everyone was looking forward to the 666th episode of 'Damned or Free' and the word on the street was that it was going to be the best episode ever.

Somewhere outside the bar, a horn blew. The sound was piercing, flat, and wet. There was a brief silence and Clayton shivered because nothing was quite as terrifying as the silence on a beach before a tsunami. The low rumble of footsteps, profanity, and mindless shrieks rose in the air and grew louder as the mob approached the bar. He promised himself he wouldn't cry at the end of his shift, but deep down, he knew it was a promise he couldn't keep.

Clayton sighed, straightened, and popped his knuckles. Then, patrons filed in. As usual, Sedaris was at the front of the crowd. It was always first because it didn't have to open the door. It just streamed through the crack on the bottom in a translucent blob that pulsed and gleamed in the neon light from the signs on the walls. Before the other creatures could even pass the threshold, Sedaris reformed at the stool closest to the window in a shape that vaguely resembled Lee Majors. The door flew open and more patrons piled in. Gargoyles, leprechauns, giant serpents, mummies, red-eyed faires, sentient mollusks, a pair of giant, scaled spiders, and razor-toothed apes with boils the size of softballs hanging off their faces. There were bipedal rats, entities with too many eyes and too many limbs, and something that looked like a fat, naked swan with cataracts. They all mobbed the bar hoping that Clayton would serve them next. 

Out of habit, Clayton poured a pint of still and slid it across the bar toward Sedaris. 

"Not tonight, mate," Sedaris said. "We're celebrating. Sparkling with ice."

"What's the special occasion?" Clayton asked. 

"It's bonus time and I've had my best year ever. Wars, famine, disease, they're all up thirty percent and the big guy loves the work I've been doing in Ta Nehesi." 

Clayton dropped four ice cubes into a highball, filled it with Pellegrino, and handed it to Sedaris. "Congrats. That's a big deal."

Sedaris downed the Pellegrino in one sloppy gulp and slammed the glass on the bar. "Damn, that's refreshing! Let's have another. And a round for the bar on me." 

The crowd roared and Clayton's shoulders shrank a bit before he caught himself. "Yessir. Two hundred glasses of iced Pellegrino on their way."

It took every ounce of energy Clayton had to focus on the task at hand as the patrons hissed, screamed, and hurled insults at him while he poured the sparkling as fast as he could. 

"Hurry up drunkie."

"Move faster, you fat piece of shit!"

"It's one drink. What's taking so long?"

"Clayton! It must be rough to be ugly and slow."

"Bet you wish you could have a drink now, huh shitbag?"

He ignored them as best he could but felt his temples tightening and his eyes watering. 

"Keep it together," he mumbled to himself.

A glob of wet bar napkins hit him on the side of the head, and he straightened. Sedaris was pointing at the television above the bar. "It's starting."  

Clayton grabbed the remote and unmuted the TV. Mercifully, the bar quieted as a lean, cloven-hoofed demon clad in a simmering black robe took the stage. The creature had three heads. The one in the center was human and did all the talking. A bull's head sprouted from the demon's right shoulder and a ram's head from its left. The eyes of the animals were solid black. Snot poured from their noses, and drool hung like ropes from the corners of their mouths. Now and again, the beasts would snarl and snap at the human head in the center, but the human head did its best to ignore them and get on with his business. 

"Welcome to Damned or Free, where we give our contestants a chance to escape eternal torture by reliving their worst moments. I'm your host, Asmodeus, and we have a great show for you," Asmodeus had an oddly soothing baritone voice that reminded Clayton of a purring cat. "And to celebrate our 666th episode, we've got a special treat for you - something we've never done before. Now, who's ready to watch some suffering?"

 The studio audience boomed with approval, and everyone in the bar raised their glasses and toasted. Clayton gathered the empties and loaded the dishwasher as Asmodeus continued.

"Our contestant tonight hails from Sherman Oaks, California. She was the hottest movie star on the planet for nearly twenty years but spiraled out of control and became the scourge of Hollywood. Let's welcome Sarah Willingham to the stage!"

Clayton stared at the TV in horror. "No. No. No. No," he mumbled. The entire bar was pointing at him and laughing. 

"Oye mate," Sedaris said. "You should see the look on your face. This'll be interesting."

Sarah Willingham gingerly crossed the stage and met Asmodeus. She was gaunt, with dry, frizzy grey hair, and wearing a dress of rusty steel triangles knitted together as if it were chainmail. Tears wobbled in her eyes, but Clayton saw the remnants of her once-legendary beauty hovering beneath the surface. 

Asmodeus put his hand on her shoulder. The ram's head sneezed and blew a glob of red-grey snot into her hair. "Welcome Ms. Willingham. We've enjoyed having you here, but now is your chance to escape. All you have to do is relive your worst moment without hitting the buzzer and you get a lifetime trip to Limbo!" The studio audience and the patrons of the bar booed and hissed. A brushed steel pillar with a ruby-red button rose from the stage in front of Sarah. "But before we start, we've got a special treat. You're playing not just for yourself but for a member of our home audience as well." 

Sedaris slapped the bar. "This should be good!"

Out of nowhere, a harsh white spotlight illuminated Clayton and the bar cheered. Clayton shielded his eyes and staggered backward. The light followed him. He heard Asmodeus speaking and realized, after a moment, that the words were directed at him.

"Clayton. Clayton. Can you hear me?" Asmodeus asked.

"I...yes...I can hear you," Clayton looked at the TV. Asmodeus was staring back at him with his cold, grey eyes. 

"Congratulations! You're our at-home contestant. If Ms. Willingham can make it through our challenge, you'll be free too." 

"Okay..."

"Now you know Ms. Willingham already don't you?"

"Kinda," he was sweating under the heat of the unseen spotlight. 

"Don't be shy Clayton. You're part of the reason she's here. Now, let's play..." Asmodeus pointed to the studio audience and they screamed, "Damned or Free!"

From the pocket of his robe, he produced a gleaming silver band roughly the width of a piece of duct tape and the circumference of a human head. 

"For those new to the show, this," he waved the sliver band like a torch in the night. "Is the Hellality Viewer. All Ms. Willingham has to do is put it on and experience her worst moment, and if she makes it to the end without hitting the buzzer, she'll be free and take Mr. Clayton with her. The best part is that we all get to see what Ms. Willingham is experiencing along with her. Now I know Sarah doesn't actually remember her worst moment, so this should be fun." 

Asmodeus lowered the Hellality Viewer like a crown onto Sarah's head until it covered her eyes and ears. He pulled a leather strap from his robe, wrapped it around Sarah's wrist, and tethered her to the pillar with the button. The television went blank, and then, a much younger version of Clayton appeared on the screen. He realized he was watching himself as a bartender at the Bel Air Outdoor Club from her point of view. The bar howled with laughter as Clayton looked himself in the eyes. He wished he could give the younger version of himself some advice so they could avoid what was coming. On the screen, Sarah shook an empty lowball at Clayton.

"One more you cute little thing," Sarah slurred.

"Aren't the kids almost done with swim lessons Ms. Willingham?" 

"Almost done isn't done sweetheart. One more. And make it strong. Mama has a long ride home." 

Clayton watched himself pour a double vodka soda and slide it to Willingham. She ordered two more doubles in the span of thirty minutes and bought Clayton two shots, which he downed as they talked about the weather and sports and when she was leaving to start filming her latest project. Eventually, a pair of damp children sidled up to her at the bar. They were beautiful twin girls named Jane and Samantha, with large blue eyes and hair pulled back into ponytails. 

"You're here," Sarah said as she patted the kids on their heads. "I guess that means we gotta go. Thanks Clayton." Willingham pushed herself up from the bar and dropped her keys. 

"Do you want me to call you a cab Ms. Willingham?" Clayton asked.

"Fuck no. We're driving up to Malibu. You know how much that would cost?"

"I can maybe have someone from the club drive you-"

"Don't worry about it Clay. I got this." 

The picture changed to a split screen. On the left was the feed of Sarah and her kids as they walked to her BMW and pulled out of the lot. On the right was a close-up of Sarah standing behind the buzzer. She was shaking her head back and forth and her hand trembled beside the buzzer. 

"STOP! Don't go," she yelled. 

"Oh, you're going. You don't want to miss the best part." Asmodeus chuckled and turned his attention to Clayton as the BMW darted in and out of traffic on its way to the PCH. "Clayton, you didn't stop her." 

"I...I couldn't."

"Why didn't you take her keys? Or call a manager to help? Surely no one wanted one of your biggest celebrity members getting in trouble."

"It didn't work like that." His voice trembled and his eyes started to water. 

"Maybe you loved having the pretty girl give you attention and didn't want to make her mad? Was that it? Did you want to look cool in front of the movie star?"

Thunderous laughter and profane jeers filled the bar when Clayton didn't answer. He slumped against the ice machine and ran his hands through his greasy hair. On the left side of the screen, the twins were singing in the back seat and Sarah shouted at them to shut up. On the right side of the screen, Sarah was thrashing and screaming, clawing at the air, trying to grab something that wasn't there. 

"If it gets to be too much," Asmodeus said. "You can always hit the buzzer."

The BMW was rocketing down the PCH now. The speedometer never dropped below 80 after they passed Topanga Beach. Sarah's eyes started drooping but widened when the car drifted to the rumble strips on the side of the highway. She overcorrected to the left and the BMW careened into the opposite lane. A black SUV was speeding toward her and she pulled the steering wheel to the left and sent her car flying off the side of a cliff. It landed upside down in the ocean and the vehicle began to flood. Sarah fumbled with her seatbelt, and when she finally freed herself, the water was up to her chin, and the girls were completely submerged, flailing as they tried to free themselves. Then, the water was over Sarah's head, and she panicked, opened the door, swam toward the surface, gasped for breath, and dove back to the car. It was resting on the ocean floor and her girls were reaching out to her, their eyes pleading with the mother for help but she couldn't figure out how to open the door. 

On stage, Sarah wailed and smashed the buzzer. The bar cheered and Asmodeus took the Hellality Viewer off her head. She collapsed to the stage floor with her arm still tethered to the pillar and wept.

"Oh, that's too bad but I get it. Reliving how you killed your kids is one of the toughest challenges we have. What do we have as a consolation prize, Johnny?"

A high-pitched, disembodied voice answered. "Well, Asmodeus, for playing Damned or Free today, Ms. Willingham is getting an eternity of nausea, loose bowels, and crippling anxiety. That's right; she will be severely hungover for the rest of time."

Clayton had to turn down the volume because her shrieks annoyed even the most hardened demons. The bar started to empty, but Sedaris remained on his stool and shook his glass at Clayton. 

"Another Pelligrino sir?" his voice was devoid of emotion. 

"Aye," Sedaris said. "Tell you what, pour one for yourself. It's on me. I'm not a totally heartless bastard."

Clayton poured two Pelligrinos, leaned against the bar beside Sedaris, and they stared at the TV. 

"Tough break," Sedaris said. "She almost got you out. Were you excited? Even a bit?"

"No. I knew she'd never make it. Why bother hoping?" 

"Understandable mate." Sedaris said and raised his glass. "To the death of hope."

Clayton gave him a weak smile as his eyes welled up and a tear rolled down his cheek. They clinked glasses and watched Sarah Willingham tear out her hair as she screamed at the sky.