To hell with it

 Disclaimer: this is a satirical account involving two most hated figures of history. It does not intend to humanise or dehumanise anyone. It doesn’t intend to trivialise the trauma of world war 2 or the holocaust. It is solely intended for entertainment purpose. Please be patient and understand the intention of the author. I apologise if it stirs up past memories. Happy reading.

                     To hell with it.

30^th April 1945, somewhere in hell.

‘Oh well look who’s here!’ exclaimed the bald tall guy to the short guy with the funny moustache. The guy had just landed down from the furnace, and he stood up dusting himself with a confused expression.

‘Where am I?’ said the short man in an Austrian accent, slightly dazed.

‘You will not like it here.’ Chuckled the tall guy. ‘I have been here two days, feels like your regime.’ He winked. 

‘Eww.’ Replied the short guy.  

Tall guy grinned. 

‘Please tell me, the people in charge, aren’t ‘them’’ he asked air quoting. 

‘Sweetheart, this is hell. The people ‘in-charge’ are exactly those who we don’t want. We choose our own caretakers here.’ Tall guy replied melancholically staring straight and rubbing his behind. He shuddered thinking about the past two days.,

‘Although, if it makes you feel better, this place is still better than your thought process and your book.’ He said loudly and mouthed ‘yikes!’ while rolling his eyes.

‘Thought process? Dude! My Nazism was a direct derivative of your fascism. Do not act all high and mighty now. You are just two days my senior in hell.’ Short guy replied offended.

‘Your book was so boring, even I couldn’t finish it. And I am Mussolini. I am just a pasta loving version of you.’ He exclaimed.

‘Okay. Did they kill you too? Like in a mob or in the war?’ Mussolini asked with a smirk.

‘Oh, they wished. I killed myself.’ Hitler replied.

‘Really? Why?’ Mussolini asked.

‘Benito my friend, they hung your body on meat hooks and stoned you, and not the good kind. I was peeing my pants, looking at the Instagram pictures. I chose the easier path; you know how coward I am!’ they laughed and bumped fists.

‘Keep it low. You don’t want to know what happens when you laugh in hell. You can’t fake ‘insanity’ here. Although, it will not be much ‘faking’ in this situation.’ Both chuckled.

‘I am doing what you are doing, my friend.’ Said Hitler.

‘Breaking news; you aren’t that good at copying.’ Mussolini said animatedly.

‘Whatever do you mean!’ Hitler replied pretending not to know.

‘Really? Do I have to remind you? 1923? The Munich putsch? Dude that was embarrassing. Just because I can ‘march on Rome’, you thought you could take on Munich like that? You never had class.’ He said in contempt.

‘Wow! Says the betrayer!’ Hitler replied rolling his eyes.

‘Dude, I told you Italian military wasn’t ready to attack Poland. Besides, you broke our pact of steel.’ He replied feigning hurt in his eyes.

‘I didn’t’ Hitler replied indignantly.

‘Four months! It took you just four months to kill the pact. We ‘effing’ signed a paper saying we are friends, and will not attack anyone without each other. That’s anything but friendship’ he replied.

‘Do not talk about friendships. You made fun of me, my Austrian accent and you always called me boring. In public! How could you do that?’

‘Well, if it helps, people were too busy hating you, to notice that.’ Mussolini shrugged. 

‘Thank hell for the Spanish civil war, that made us friends.’ Hitler said.

Both exhaled together. Reminiscing the times. 

‘So, what is the routine here, like?’ asked Hitler rubbing his hands together.

‘To tell you a secret, I wish I was still hung on meat hooks and getting stoned.’ Mussolini replied, as he shuddered.

Hitler looked alarmingly scared.

‘Here is the deal, they have; getting eaten by rats and rodents’ days, boil days, chopping off limb days, skewer days, incinerate days, freeze to cold days. The body doesn’t die. This is a daily routine. And this goes on for eternity.’ Mussolini replied with broad eyes with a glint of creepy scare.

‘Do they have holidays?’ Hitler asked hopefully.

‘Oh yes. They call it ‘slowly pouring scalding oil days’’ he replied with tears in his eyes.

Hitler listened intently.

‘There is this guy called Lucifer, and has all these assistants who help him manage. And the craziest part’ said Mussolini, enunciating. 

‘What is the craziest part?’ interrupted Hitler.

‘We cannot use the ‘race’ card here. Irrespective of the race, we are the bad guys, and that guy knows it. And he makes sure that we understand it too.’ He replied.

‘Dude we fucked up big time.’

‘Oh yes. We did.’

‘Well, what did you expect? I am Hitler.’ He said with a shrug.

‘So, you came alone?’ asked Mussolini.

‘Eva came with me. She probably landed in the ladies’ section.’ He replied dismissively.

‘That reminds me, the ladies here are crazy. Do not go near one if they call you. It doesn’t end well.’ Mussolini replied with a ghastly expression. 

‘Oh well, well. Looks like our ladies’ man was burnt in the woods’ Hitler replied winking with a twisted mouth trying to speak without moving lips.

‘Quite literally.’ Mussolini replied with a blank stare and unblinking eyes.

‘Wow yikes!’ he mumbled. 

‘Time for bath’ announced an assistant of hell. He called the two to walk along. Mussolini turned pale, while Hitler looked confused. 

Looking at the boiling pool of water, Hitler shat his pants. 

‘And he was the one to talk about racial ‘hygiene’’ using the air quotes, said the assistant.

Hitler looked at Mussolini hopefully.

‘You always wanted to be an artist.’ He said and shrugged, as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth to get ready for the ‘bath’. 

The following day, the two sat near the entrance furnace. They looked ashen and stared in to abyss. 

‘I will go out on a limb, and say, killing the millions of people was a bad idea. We get to die millions of times. We are doomed.’ Hitler said without blinking.

‘We are probably at the highest level of hell.’ Mussolini said.

‘The wars, the camps, the brain wash; I think they should invent a higher level of hell, just for us.’ He continued. 

‘I saw Genghis khan yesterday.’ Said Hitler.

‘Who?’ 

‘The Mongolian tyrant, the mass murderer.’ Explained Hitler.

 ‘Well, we are all mass murderers here. What’s your point? You want to hang out with him? I saw Timur limp, and I never even mentioned it. ‘limp’ Did you get it?’ he chuckled at his own joke. 

‘I am sorry, I just mentioned his name. Do not get hysterical.’ Hitler rolled his eyes.

‘I don’t trust you.’

‘No one does. I am Hitler.’ He said.

‘You think too highly of yourself. I come from the line of Caesar, Virgil and Augustus.’ He said haughtily.

‘I didn’t mean to offend you buddy.’ Hitler said faking sincerity.

‘No, I am not offended. I am happy we can finally be honest.’

‘Remember the time, when we said, ‘Nazi Germany and fascist Italy shared the common destiny’, Hell we were right, although we meant it in a whole other sense.’ They said laughing as they saw the assistant approaching them.

‘Bath time’ sang the assistant. 

Both shuddered at the sound of the two words. 

‘Before that, I just want to thank you for helping us out with our attack on Abyssinia. I never thanked you personally before. That was really nice of you.’ Mussolini said to Hitler, as he mentally prepared himself, to endure the worst pain of his life, while looking at the scalding pot of oil. 

Hitler chuckled, ‘Since we are being honest, can I tell you a secret? I secretly supplied arms to the Abyssinian empire for defense against your invasion. Saaarrryyyy.’ He screamed, as he was dunked into the boiling liquid, and his screams echoed in the hell for eternity.