ONE HELL OF A POKER NIGHT

Warning: Contains mild foul language. Demonic imagery - meant to be comedic.

* * *

If the Dark Prince ever promised he would be somewhere or do something, no one in their right mind would actually expect it to happen. Short of soul-gathering, how could anyone known as the Father of Lies and Deception be taken seriously? There was only one thing that was practically guaranteed though, at least in Hell. Satan had never missed Poker Night, which was routinely held every half-century, mortal time.

The table was loaded with all the usual suspects: Hitler, always vying to grab the seat nearest the Dark Master, Stalin, Vlad, Saddam, E.B. full name Elizabeth Bathory, Pol, Mao, Osama, Genghis, Ivan, and the newest member of Hades' Best, a/k/a Satan's Top Ten, Kim Jong-il. Jong-il had not yet met the Dark One face-to-face, and so was a little nervous. The others saw this and taunted, "What the Hell, Kim! What do you think he's going to do? Steal your salvation?" There was a general round of ill-natured snickers and chortling amongst the devilish group.

Stalin was dealer that night and was shuffling cards restlessly. The chips had been distributed and they were all ready to go. Besides breaking up the monotony of their eternal suffering, this was an opportunity to learn of new developments in the world above. Plus, there was the added trepidation that one of them might have to surrender their position to another deemed more evil than they. It could happen. Himmler had lost his place due to Jong-il's arrival, something that amused Adolf to no end, even though now he no longer had Himmler around to annoy with his outlandish impersonations. For Himmler, Hitler's sense of humor was a major part of his personal hell. He departed almost willingly.

The Underworld, as you might imagine, was truly fire and brimstone, a seemingly endless sea of tortured souls. What was not generally known was that, situated a quarter of the way down a massive cliff - the one where souls would land and, following a cursory orientation, be tossed into the boiling depths below - there was a cave dug into the side. Inside this cave would reside Satan's ten most depraved and devoted disciples. They were given no real advantage over those situated below, save they were, on rare occasion, granted a visit by the Ruler of Demons himself. There were only two evenings a century that they could make use of the stone table set in the center of the cave. This grand slab was surrounded by granite stools that totaled thirteen. There at the head of the table was, naturally, a throne meant for one, and then two seats were left unoccupied, in case Satan wanted to get to know any of his "special minions" from below better.

Several of the attendees paced while they waited, wondering what they would do if their Lord didn't show up. It would be unprecedented. It could mean any number of things. But, just then, there was a mighty explosion of fire and sulfur that filled the cave, temporarily blinding all of them. Stalin held onto the deck of cards tightly, as every one of them was prone to cheating. When the smoke began to clear, the flashing silhouette of several fearsome images popped and sputtered at the entrance to the cave; goat, bull, snake, winged beast, and then he appeared. The Prince of Darkness marched determinedly into the room.

"Don't anyone say it. I'm late, I know! Just don't anyone speak. I need a minute."

Slowly, each disciple took his or her seat at the table and waited, watching as Satan appeared to be mulling over whether or not to share something. It was unsettling for them to see this sort of hesitation. The Dark One was always a let 'er rip and consequences be damned kind of master.

"Things are changing up there, have changed, and to an extent I'd never imagined possible. Adolf, tell me, what earth year is it?"

Hitler rubbed his chin. "I'm thinking around 2045, Your Vileness? So difficult to say for sure. Time has little meaning here."

"Can any of you say with certainty?"

Hitler continued, "Well, if I may, Your Supreme Wickedness, what I did was calculate from when I first arrived which, according to memory, was 1945. Game Night was soon after, and there has only been one other since. Now, because this illustrious event only happens every half-century, that is how I was best able to determine what mortal year it might be. So . . .?"

"All right, all right, lighten up on the groveling, Adolf."

Hitler appeared humbled, then looked up at Satan with sad eyes .

"Oh, and whatever, Adolf. Granted, you may sit next to me."

Hitler sat back, pleased. All the others looked around without particular focus.

Elizabeth Bathory, never hesitant to express herself openly, leaned forward. "Shall we play, Father Damned, or are we to endure yet another disappointment in this endless Abyss of all the damned Damned?"

Satan shot E.B. a smirk. "You never fail to delight, my dear. I do have something to discuss with all of you, my loyal followers, and though it may test your powers of concentration, I could use the distraction. Who's dealer tonight?"

"Here!" piped up Stalin. "And so, I have determined that the game is..."

There was a bomb-like blast of heat and flame from Satan's position at the head of the table. "Aren't you forgetting something, Joseph?"

"Oh, right, I keep forgetting. So, shoot me, Old Serpent! May the dealer deal?"

Satan's eyes burned red. "Do not test me, Stalin. You may think there is nothing more can be done to you. That would be a mistake."

Kim Jong-il's eyes grew large upon hearing this.

"Now, there are two things I would like to take care of, both a matter of ceremony, but of some import nonetheless. First, let me greet our newest member. Kim Jong-il! I've observed you and knew one day you would be part of our little enterprise. It is with great pleasure that I welcome your allegiance, now and forever."

"Ruler of Demons," Jong-il bowed, "the pleasure is mine."

"As it should be," growled Satan, with a wicked smile, a hint of his old self seeping through. "And now, I bring to the table one who came to us in the mortal year 2017. For what I am about to disclose, I may wish to call upon the insights of a younger, fresher perspective of the human experience. I introduce to you a fellow dark soul you should all be, at least peripherally, familiar with. Charles Manson."

There were audible groans around the table.

"Now, now, silence! I know he likes to talk. A lot. I also know he admires himself. A lot. And though it may happen that I will grant him audience, rest assured, if at any point he speaks out of turn, he will be tossed back. So, let us all just settle down."

Satan turned his attention to the entrance and bellowed, "Charlie! Come!"

"Oh, man! I freaked out when I was summoned, and to...I'm guessing some kind of Love-In? Salutations, brothers . . . oh, and hey now, foxy lady, what's your bag?"

E.B.'s yellow eyes shot daggers as she hissed loudly.

"Bummer," shrugged Charlie. "Anyway, I'm stoked to hear why I'm here."

Satan offered an oily grin. "Come sit by me, Charlie. I have something I would like to discuss. Now, you must assure me you will behave and not speak unless you are spoken to. Can you do that? Or..."

"You're the boss, Boss ." Manson zipped his lips.

Oh great, thought Ivan the Terrible. Another brown nose. Will this hell never end?

Satan gestured to Stalin, "Now, Joseph, please begin. Do you play, Charlie? You may speak."

"Think I'll sit this one out, Luci, I'm cool."

Cool? thought Osama, what is this fool talking about?

Stalin broke in. "All right, comrades! The game's five card stud, one face-down, four face-up. Ante up, ghouls."

Mao grimaced. "Ghouls? Is that necessary? I honestly have never... and why can't we ever play Chinese Poker? When do I get to...?"

When Mao could feel the heat of all eyes on him, he quieted, though remained on a low simmer.

As the cards were dealt, Satan began. "So, I am thinking of retiring. There, I thought it best I just come out with it."

The table froze. Nobody moved. The silence was broken by Pol Pot, who normally kept to himself. "Is it the people? This must have to do with the people."

Satan rolled his eyes. "It's just not as easy to recruit these days. There's something going on that I don't understand. Humans just don't give in to temptation like they used to. The vibration up there is ridiculous. And I cannot express how uncomfortable it is for me to be there. I'm beginning to think that I don't belong anymore, that I don't even exist."

Stalin slowly continued to dole out cards again, "Is there a way to account for this shortage of evil intent? Aren't people people anymore?"

Vlad the Impaler cut in. He always spoke with grand theatrical gestures, as though he were Bella Lugosi. "Ah, yes, speaking for myself, I would never have trouble convincing the people to see things my way. I would look them in the eye and, as I recall, submission was instantaneous. The bodies would simply pile up. Delicious."

Manson actually gaped at who he suddenly realized was the Romanian monarch, Vlad Dracula. He inched towards Satan muttering, "Heavy."

Satan picked up some chips and tossed them into the center of the table. The others followed.

"No, this isn't at all like the old days when there was no end to our dominance. No matter what I try, I find myself defeated at every turn. All the old tricks don't work anymore."

Saddam had a question. "Tell us, what is the present state of weaponry? I remember it being on the rise when I was in power. Anything was possible. We were always anxious to see what sort of massively destructive device might next come along. What a great time to be a terrorist!"

Satan shook his head. "You won't believe this. There is no weaponry. It has all been dismantled or destroyed. None of it exists anymore. Apparently - boo-hoo - they didn't wish to harm their precious Mother Earth, and so they located a black hole in the middle of nowhere that could accommodate all of it, nuclear, chemical, everything. It's all disappeared."

"Oh, I could weep!" Genghis Khan, who reveled in the memory of his military success and the mass extermination he had engineered during his time, exclaimed. His eyes misted, while his cards lay untouched.

Hitler spoke up. "So, guns then! The old fashioned way! Rifles, cannons, mass artillery!"

Satan shook his head. "All gone."

"Knives, swords? Rocks! Poison? Hand to hand!"

Satan continued shaking his head. "You don't understand. That's the thing, right there. It's the way they're acting. They no longer feel the need to protect themselves. You know, I am beginning to put this together as we speak. I fear they are no longer afraid!"

There came a unified gasp.

Mao spoke. "There must be a way to make them afraid again. This is impossible."

Stalin was still holding the deck. "Of course, and it should be. Are we playing?"

Satan looked at his overturned card, then the others. "I'll take three."

They went around the table, Stalin replacing cards as requested, placing the discarded ones in the muck pile. It was time to place bets.

They went in turn, tossing chips into the center. Saddam folded. He had the worst luck, which matched his temper. Vlad tended to be reckless, always wanting to bet it all. Easy pickings for the others.

"Tell us more of this lack of fear, Dark Father," Jong-il ventured. "I have never known the world to be without fear. None of us would be here without it."

The table hummed in agreement.

Satan studied his cards, planning his next move. "And that is precisely why I was late. I have been trying to get to the root of the problem. I want to understand. Why is everyone so at peace all of a sudden. What could have changed so drastically. Just before I left, there was a minor disaster, an earthquake, so I lingered to see how it would play out."

Pol Pot was fascinated, though just as perplexed as the rest. "And?"

Satan shook his head again. "Comradery, quick action - and not the type you might expect. There was no criticism, no debate, no indifference. It was the people, the plain citizenry, that pooled together and shared what they had, saved who and what they could. I dare say they were organized and efficient, motivated by ... compassion."

Stalin cringed. "I can't stand the word. There must have been losses!"

"Indeed there were," Satan continued, "along with tears and prayers - ugh - but do you want to know what else? There was acceptance, even gratitude! Gratitude! We can't count on natural disasters to aid the cause anymore! The world has gone mad and, I confess, I have never felt so useless."

Hitler had been staring at his cards for some time. He now stood, prepared to speak his mind.

"Yah, yah. But you must know that none of us here are blind to who you are. Father. Father of what? Lies, deception! You are not where one looks for truth. We at this table know that! So, what is your real purpose here, Old Serpent? Old Dragon? What are you hiding up your sleeve? Not that I would believe a thing you have to say! Haha!"

Hitler was too engrossed in his speech to notice Satan's eyes had narrowed. He stared directly at Hitler until he'd heard enough. He lifted one talon and seethed through clenched teeth, "No more."

A force suddenly lifted Hitler and he was flown out the entrance of the cave. There followed deafening shrieks of agony and despair, as fire shot upwards. They all watched as the curling flames rose and then descended, sparks and ash settling in the doorway. Then all eyes returned to the Dark Master. Satan motioned to Saddam, who gathered Hitler's cards and handed them to Stalin to be placed in the muck pile.

"There is a first time for everything." Satan studied his nails. "As I am learning."

They played the final betting round without interruption. The winner, Satan, scooped up his winnings. "Ante up." They began the next round, but the game's progress was soon interrupted.

"Love."

No one knew exactly from where it had come, but they then saw Charlie trying to get Satan's attention, raising a hand and both eyebrows.

Lucifer leaned back in his throne and nodded, "Speak."

"Man, I say this all the time. The mind is endless. You put me in a dark solitary cell and to you, that's the end. To me, it's the beginning. It's the universe in there, there's a world in there and I'm free. Death is the greatest form of love."

Lucifer pondered, staring at Charlie. You could hear a pin drop.

"Oh, shut up, Charlie!" Ivan started and everyone began laughing.

Lucifer clapped Charlie on the back, laughing too. Charlie grinned.

"Well, dig it. That's all I got."

The Devil glanced at the others, "Yes, well, and thank you for that."

They played another two hands before the subject of retirement was brought up again.

"Okay," began Satan, "Let's get back to me. I can't help thinking I should step aside. It's over. I'm ineffective. If I could figure out why and fix it, I would. I haven't yet shared this, but I think it's important that those closest to me hear it. I tried to summon a plague and failed. Failed! Nothing would obey me! Nothing feared me, nothing listened! I tried locust, I tried beasts, I tried every form of vermin. It was as if my powers were never mine! It's so humiliating!"

No one had the nerve to look in Satan's direction. They all felt shame on his behalf.

"So, it is in the face of this, my loyal subjects, that I feel I must step down. Look among you for my successor. There will be some training, obviously, but who would any of you deem worthy?"

Vlad, the Impaler, was drooling. Before he could say anything, the debate began.

"Forget it! You don't have the kind of numbers I do!"

"Hah! I've exterminated more than you ever dared dream!"

"I destroyed generations and yet maintained respect!"

"That wasn't respect, blind man. That was fear! Without fear, you're nothing!"

"It's no secret you're unstable, a lunatic. You'd make us a joke!"

"You were just in the right time and place! That's not real power! Wake up!"

"You were captured in a hole! You're only qualified to be father of gophers!"

"Had you known me then, you would not dare speak this way!"

"Well, I know you now and you couldn't conquer a tea party!"

"Swine!"

Satan and Charlie looked on as chaos continued to elevate. Soon, chips and cards were flying. The game, apparently, was over.

Charlie had just one more thing to say. "All you need is love, man."

"OH, SHUT UP, CHARLIE!"

THE END