One Hell Of A Problem

[kellychaos]

The Devil sat at the kitchen table blithely gnawing on a femur he had recently snatched from the carnage of the nasty little war in Iraq. The meat was mostly gone so he focused his attention on savoring the marrow of the bone. Suck. Suck. Suck. There was always something special ... some essence ... that was partcularly captivating in the core of a jihad martry's bones ... though the cardiac muscle was best. Too late for that, though. Charring and all that, you know. Now that he had to vacate his office, he had more time to do ... umm ... things. Time to do repair on the bowels. Time to play with the kids. Fishing. What not? Something was nagging him about his replacement, however. Harried calls from his former employees detailing changes in demonic protocol such as: distribution of souls, tribute in sacrifice ... ect, ect. No respect for tradition whatsoever, this gent. One wasn't supposed to do that. Hell was based on dogma and age-old traditions ... and past leaders have repected that and carried on their reign with an air of indifference. As is should be. They were a figurehead and were not supposed to go off galavanting about putting personal touches on this and that ... whatever strikes your whimsy. And there were also those slightly distressing news items he peripherally caught on HNN. Times were a changin' Something was slightly off. Yes, yes, yes. Life in Hell was becoming slightly skewed since Jerry Fallwell took office. Then again, perhaps he was just being nostalgic. Adolph sighed ... and then, wept.

[Rosenstern]

Good writing, yo! You mispelled "martyr". Just watching your back.