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Fantasy Gay Funny

The curtain rises on the interior of Forbidden Books Inc., a bookstore in the 89th circle of Hell. It resembles a modern-day chain bookstore. Chip is a lesser demon, around thirty, dressed like an office worker. He creeps anxiously between the bookshelves. Enter the Bookkeeper; a shadowy figure whose features are concealed by robes.

 

Bookkeeper, seeing Chip: Greetings, imp, and welcome. You have entered into the dominion of forbidden lore. Strange and powerful knowledge rests upon these shelves; insights unwelcome in the halls of decency. Thus, these tomes dwell here, in Hell’s eighty-ninth circle, shunned by those who yet cling to the gossamer veil of sanity. I am keeper of these most unwholesome manuscripts. How might I grant you assistance in your quest?

 

Chip, nervous: I don’t— I don’t need any books. I just came in here to browse, but I got lost. Can you please show me where the exit is?


Bookkeeper: None may leave without making a purchase.

 

Chip: What? Are you serious? Please, let me out!


The Bookkeeper is silent.


Chip: Ugh. Ok, fine. Well, I want to become a temptor demon. I hate being an imp — I need to increase my rank. That’s why I came in. I want to learn how to… How to lure mortals into lives of sin. Steal their souls, or however it works. Do you have any books about that? About temptation?

 

Bookkeeper: The answers you seek lie closer than you think. Behold. The Bookkeeper gestures.

 

Chip: Thanks, I think.

 

The Bookkeeper exits. Chip goes to one of the bookshelves and peruses the books, selecting one, which he begins to read. Enter Spike, a violent-looking tormentor demon. Chip tries to hide himself behind the shelves, but Spike sees him.

 

Spike, examining Chip: What! An imp?

 

Chip: Leave me alone, torturer.

 

Spike: What are you doing in a bookstore? Are you on an errand? What are you reading there? He steals the book from Chip. The Absolute Idiot’s Guide to Temptation, Volume 3: Greed. Hah! Are you trying to become a temptor? Temptors are scumbags, you know. You really want to trick more people into coming down here?

 

Chip: It’s better than what I’m doing now! I feel like I'm the punching bag for every higher ranking demon in Hell! I’ve been stuck working in the sorting office for millennia, and I want something better out of my afterlife. What do you care anyway? You’re a tormentor demon — you torture people for a living.

 

Spike: Hey, I used to be an imp too. He looks at the books on the shelf. Pride, envy, wrath… These are the Seven Deadly Sins. Are you Catholic?

 

Chip, taking the book: I was, back when I was alive. He sighs. Apparently not a very good one. Why?

 

Spike: Just curious. Everyone sees this store differently. Different style, different books.

 

Chip: Really? For me it looks like the self-help section of some evil parody of Barnes & Noble. You?

 

Spike: Right now I’m seeing your selection. But when I’m off on my own it’s mostly science and philosophy books. I’m an atheist.

 

Chip: How can you possibly be an atheist? We’re literally in Hell. You’re a demon.

 

Spike: I don’t see any God down here, do you?

 

Chip: That’s kind of the point! Ugh, forget it.

 

Spike, stealing the book again: Why’d you pick greed, though?

 

Chip: It’s none of your business! Give that back! Why are you bothering me?

 

Spike: You looked interesting, and I wanted to talk to someone. He holds the book out of Chip’s reach. So tell me, why greed?

 

Chip: I don’t know! He relents. I thought it would be the easiest temptation to start with. All you need to do is go up, find some mortal who wants a lot of money, and get them to sell their soul for it. There’s always people who want money.

 

Spike: Do you have lots of money?

 

Chip: No. But doesn’t that come with the gig?

 

Spike: Hah. No. You don’t just get handed a million mortal dollars because you want to become a temptor. Besides, people don’t end up in Hell because of one bad business deal. Most mortals don’t even know what a soul means anyway.

 

Chip, curious: You’re saying you know about temptation? So how do you do it?

 

Spike, relaxing: I don’t know much about the tricks temptors use, but when I see souls get delivered to the torture pits for greed it’s usually for things like backstabbing a business partner, or killing a relative for inheritance, or scamming the elderly. They’re satisfying to punish.

 

Chip: That’s pretty disgusting.

 

Spike: Yeah.

 

Chip: I mean you. Sadist. He takes the book back again.

 

Spike: Hey now, don’t get all high-and-mighty with me. We’re all damned souls here.

 

Chip: Whatever. How do you make mortals to do those kinds of things? Don’t temptors get powers, or something?

 

Spike: They do, but they’re subtle. You have to know how to use them right. Manipulate stocks, cause businesses to rise and fall, things like that. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.

 

Chip: So what? You need to be an economist to be a temptor?

 

Spike: If you’re tempting people with greed, probably.

 

Chip: I couldn't do anything like that.

 

Spike: If being a temptor was easy, everyone would do it. Maybe you should try working with one of the other sins? One you’re more familiar with? How’d you end up down here anyway?

 

Chip: That’s a personal question, thank you. I have no idea, though. I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since I got here. I mean, I know I wasn’t the best person when I was alive, but I never did anything really awful. At least I think I didn’t. I always worked hard. Maybe I worked too hard? That’s all I’ve ever been able to come up with. That maybe I was pushing other people down without even knowing it. That’s why I thought greed might make the most sense. Subconscious greed.

 

Spike: That’s just survival. You don’t strike me as the greedy type.

 

Chip ponders, and then shelves the book, selecting another.

 

Chip: Alright, if you really want to help, how about this one. Volume Six: Envy. When I was alive I was always jealous of people who were more successful than me.

 

Spike: Ok. What did you do about that? How can you use it?

 

Chip: Uh. I mainly just stewed about it silently, honestly. Resented them from afar. I never hurt anybody over it. I don’t know how I’d go about making people jealous, either. So, maybe not envy.

 

Chip shelves the book, and then selects another.

 

Chip: Pride. I did theater back when I was in school. I loved the costumes, being on stage. The audience. The applause. Maybe I was too vain and self-centered.

 

Spike: What’s wrong with liking applause? Besides, I thought pride was more about hubris. Not knowing your own limitations.

 

Chip: Eh. If that’s true, then no. I definitely got to know my limitations. I ended up being an office drone after I graduated. I had pretty much the same job then as I have now.

 

Spike: Did you keep doing theater?

 

Chip: No. I stopped after school. It’s not a stable career, you know?

 

Spike: Pity. We could always use more performers down at the torture pits. You ever get transformed into someone’s worst nightmare? It’s a ride. If you ever want to take up acting again, you should stop by the pits sometime. Ask for Spike. You’d be great at it, I can tell.

 

Chip: Spike, huh? I’m Chip.

 

Spike, coyly: Hi Chip.

 

Chip: I’m not doing torture, though.

 

Spike: Oh ok. So luring someone into damnation is fine, but torture is off the table. Got it.

 

Chip: Shut up.

 

Spike: Hey, I’m just being honest. If you’re going to go into the temptation business, you’re going to be doing bad things to people. If you can’t handle that then maybe you should stick to your office job.

 

Chip: Seriously? All I’ve ever done, my whole life, was keep my head down and do my job. But that doesn’t work around here! There’s always someone waiting to push me around, or bully me, or screw me over. I’m sick of it! I just want to catch a break! But I’m not going to torture people for that.

 

Spike: Alright. You don’t want to do it? Fine. My pick this time.

 

Spike selects a book from the shelf, and gives it to Chip.

 

Spike: Volume One: Lust. The old classic. You want an easy job? Go up and seduce people.

 

Chip, embarrassed: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not exactly good with women.

 

Spike: Aw, come on, I think you're handsome. You’re in good shape. You've got a nice smile, when you show it. You could do it.

 

Chip, ashamed: No, I mean. I’m really not good with women. At all.

 

Spike: Ok. So seduce men, then.

 

Chip, shocked: What! Oh my god! No!

 

Spike: Why not?

 

Chip: I’m not like that!

 

Spike: But you do like men, though, right?

 

Chip: Fuck you!

 

Spike: Is that an offer?

 

Chip, disgusted: Wow. I totally knew it. I knew you were a pervert when you came over. That’s all you wanted, huh? To get laid?

 

Spike: I mean. I wanted to talk with you. I told you — you looked interesting.

 

Chip: Fuck off.

 

Chip turns his back to Spike and goes to the bookcase, resting his hand on it, frustrated.

 

Spike: Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to creep on you, I promise. Can we start over?

 

Chip, looking over his shoulder: Do you think that’s why we’re down here? I mean I’ve definitely wondered it.

 

Spike: Come on. No. If that was a sin, I'd be getting way more lucky around here.

 

Chip: You’re sick.

 

Spike: I’m aware.

 

Chip, looking at the book in his hand: I’ve had a few boyfriends, but I was always pretty reserved. I never cheated. I never slept around, or did anything risky.

 

Spike: Boring.

 

Chip: Yeah, exactly! I’m not any good at lust. This is a waste of time.

 

Chip puts the book back, frustrated. Eventually, Spike comes up next to him. He looks over the remaining books and selects one.

 

Spike: Here’s mine. Volume five. Wrath.

 

Chip: And I’m not surprised.

 

Spike: I know. I wasn’t a good person up there. Clearly. I fought. I hurt people. And I enjoyed it a lot more than I should have.

 

Chip: That’s why you became a tormentor?

 

Spike: Yeah. It is. I tried to deny it at first. That I’m a natural at it. That I actually like it. Because that means I belong here, doesn’t it?

 

Chip: I’m sorry. I guess.

 

Spike: Hey, it’s better that I’m down here than somewhere else, right? I can accept that. Not everyone’s supposed to get out.

 

Chip sighs, examining the bookshelf.

 

Chip: Well, I was never a very angry person, so that crosses wrath off the list. And look; there’s only two books left in the series now. At this rate, I don’t think I’m going to be getting out of here either. He frowns. Wait....

 

Spike: What is it?

 

Chip: Hold on, I think I figured it out.

 

Spike: Really?

 

Chip, grabbing a book off the shelf: Gluttony.

 

Spike: You’re not even overweight.

 

Chip: Yeah, but think about it. I was from a first-world country. I was middle-class. I wasn’t really privileged, but I always had some money, and I never gave much of it to charity. It’s gluttony.

 

Spike: That doesn’t make sense. Lots of people are like that, and not all of them end up here. I think you just feel guilty.

 

Chip: But maybe I am guilty! Maybe that’s the point! I knew I could have done more, and I didn’t. I knew the system was rotten and I just kept going along with it so long as it meant I had a cushy place to sleep.

 

Spike: Most souls I get in the torture pits for gluttony are drug addicts, and things like that.

 

Chip: What? But that’s unfair. They’re being punished for having an addiction?

 

Spike: Well…

 

Chip: See? See! That’s what I mean! The system down here is rotten, too! And I’m willingly eating it up. It has to be gluttony.

 

Spike: I don’t think that’s gluttony, though. I think it’s the other one. That last book.

 

Chip: What, sloth? No. That’s stupid. Sloth is the dumbest one.

 

Spike, picking up the last book: I don’t know. Think about it.

 

Chip: Ok, you’re funny, but stop messing around. My problem obviously isn't that I'm taking too many naps — I barely sleep at all. Gluttony at least makes sense. I just need to figure out how to work with it.

 

Spike: I’m being serious! Just listen for a moment. Maybe you’ve been a little bit lazy about—

 

Chip, interrupting: Hey! I am not lazy!

 

Spike: Ok, I didn’t mean—

 

Chip: I work so hard! I always have! Every day — or at least what passes for days down here — I’m at the office, filing form after form after form, just like I was back when I was alive! I’m exhausted all the time! I barely do anything fun! I have no time for friends, no time for anything! I am not lazy!

 

Spike: Chip, easy. Let me finish.

 

Chip: I’m so sick of being accused of things that aren’t true! How hard do I have to work to prove to everyone that I’m not some backsliding, useless, slacker sack of shit?

 

Spike: Ok, I’m not accusing you of anything. All I’m saying is that all that work you’re doing? You’re doing it for a job you just said was rotten.

 

Chip: That’s why I’m trying to get a different one!

 

Spike: One that’s even more rotten?

 

Chip: Oh, that’s rich, coming from someone who tortures drug addicts!

 

Spike, angry: Hey! Do you even know what it is I do?

 

Chip: Yeah, you torment people. It’s right there in your job description. You’re the most Hell part of Hell.

 

Spike: And why do you think I do it?

 

Chip: Because you’re a psychopath! You admitted it!

 

Spike: I mean, yeah, I guess I am, but it’s not that simple.

 

Chip: Why, then? And what does this have to do with anything?

 

Spike: I do it to get people out!

 

Chip: What?

 

Spike: From the torment. This place. Hell. It’s not actually a prison — you’ve figured that out by now, right? It’s a maze. It changes around you, confuses your senses. Most of the people here aren’t here because they’re bad, but because they’re stuck. They’re trapped in their own heads, unable to work through the bad parts of their lives. And that’s all that this place shows them.

 

Chip: I mean, yeah, I know I’m not really in a Barnes & Noble.

 

Spike: Exactly. It’s all tricks and illusions. Dream logic. Time doesn’t even work right. And a sicko like me? I’m screwed. I’m never getting out of here. But, you know what? I can at least do some good for other people. For once in my miserable existence. Because I was chosen. I’m in the system. Tormentors like me, we can't stop the horror, but we can control it. Write the script. I choose the punishments, customize them for each soul assigned to me. I take the damned and I reach into the depths of their minds and I craft the perfect nightmare for each of them. And those souls? They need my punishment. They crave it, even though they hate it, because it’s the only way they can see the shape of their sins. The only way they can fight them. It’s therapy.

 

Chip, stunned: You’re completely insane. You’re a monster.

 

Spike: I know. I am. But do you know how many people I’ve set free? Do you know how it feels to watch a soul ascend? To see that little spark, rising out of all this gloom. I can’t save them the right way, but I can save them my way.

 

Chip: Is that what you’re doing right now? Trying to save me?

 

Spike: No. Maybe. I'm... I’m trying to help.

 

Chip: Wow. Ok. I am really uncomfortable. Please go away.

 

Spike: What, really? Just like that?

 

Chip: Yes. This is not funny. I don’t want your kind of help.

 

Spike: Fine. Ok, I’ll go. If that’s what you want. But listen, I know what you’re like. I know you’re never going to choose any one of those books. You’re going to go back to your safe, risk-free, dead-end little afterlife that you hate, and you’re never going to lift a finger to save yourself. Because yeah, you’re lazy. It’s sloth.

 

Chip: Hey fuck you.

 

Spike: You keep asking me that. But right now I’m going home.

 

Spike begins walking towards the exit.

 

Chip: Wait. Home? You know the way out of here? Wait! Spike!

 

Chip chases after Spike, but Spike has already left. The Bookkeeper enters, blocking Chip’s path.

 

Bookkeeper: Halt, imp. I request that there be no running within the bookstore.

 

Chip, frantic: That demon! The tormentor! Did you see which way he went?

 

Bookkeeper: He has left the premises, and has passed beyond my sight.

 

Chip: Ok, but can you point me in the direction he was going?

 

Bookkeeper: None may leave without making a purchase.

 

Chip, exasperated: Fine! Fine.

 

Chip paces, agitated, while the Bookkeeper looks on. Chip picks up the volume on sloth and pages through it, but he quickly becomes dismayed and shoves it back on the shelf. He thinks for a moment.

 

Chip: I won’t lift a finger, huh?

 

Chip walks over to the Bookkeeper.

 

Chip: Excuse me, I’d like to see your books on acting.

 

Bookkeeper: Certainly, imp. Follow, and become enlightened.

 

The Bookkeeper leads Chip away. The curtain falls.

 

Fin.

January 24, 2020 04:15

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