The old demon screamed and flailed around.
"Tap out, damn it!" Tojo demanded.
Mr. Blickenderfer refused in a painfully shrieked, "Keine!"
Tojo increased the pressure. David Brewer hopped back in the ring and asked Mr. Blickenderfer if he wanted to quit.
"I'll never submit!" Mr. Blickenderfer said hatefully.
Tojo pulled harder on Mr. Blickenderfer's arm, and the supervisor from Hell screeched and finally nodded.
"Loslassen!"
He slapped at Tojo with his free hand. The ref called for the bell and Tojo shoved Mr. Blickenderfer down.
The audience erupted again but before Tojo could celebrate, Mr. Blickenderfer pulled himself up on the ropes and called to his demons. "Kuill ihnen! Kill them all!"
The demon horde began to buzz through the audience toward the ring. Men, women and children were shredded as the demons cut bloody paths through the spectators.
"No!" Tojo cried out.
And then a cacophonous boom and flare of white light made him shield his face.
Things darkened and quieted. Tojo opened his eyes. He sat in the ring in the Will Rogers Memorial Center. The place was deserted. The ring was clean of gore and corpses. Tojo was perched on his knees. He looked over and Mr. Blickenderfer was still clinging to the ring ropes. He looked as confused and lost as Tojo.
"What just happened?" Mr. Blickenderfer asked cautiously.
"We happened, Blickenderfer!" a loud and feminine voice announced.
Tojo looked to the runway. A black, attractive young woman in a dark business suit marched a group of immaculately groomed men and women in matching attire to the ring. They looked like a clean cut wrestling faction.
"Oh, I am calling bullshit on this," Mr. Blickenderfer complained, as the group climbed through the ropes.
The strikingly beautiful black woman, who seemed to be the leader, walked past Mr. Blickenderfer without regarding him and presented her hand and a smile to Tojo.
"My name is Betty Skye, and I am thrilled to finally meet you, Tojo Smith."
"You have no jurisdiction over me," Mr. Blickenderfer further protested.
"You set out to slaughter a thousand innocents and you didn't expect us to intercede?" Betty said, her warm eyes finally on Mr. Blickenderfer. "You may as well have sent an evite."
"I lost my temper," Mr. Blickenderfer conceded. "But you have obviously mopped up my mess. I will just collect Tojo and return to the dark realm."
"He doesn't answer to Hell anymore," Betty said. "You'll have to go back to the pits alone."
"You can't do that," Mr. Blickenderfer argued. "There are procedures! Rules! Paperwork!"
"The front office took an interest and you know divine intervention trumps all," Betty reminded him. "Now open a portal and scoot out of here. You have a report to give to your master. Does he still eviscerate the messenger?"
Mr. Blickenderfer scowled and waved his arm. A portal opened. He turned to Tojo as it glowed in front of him.
"This I swear, Tojo Smith-"
"Please spare us your empty threats," Betty interrupted. "Tojo Smith is free of Hell. He was the moment he defied your boss."
"Fick euch alle!" Mr. Blickenderfer cursed in German, and then translated for everyone. "Fuck you! Fuck you all and your mothers in the ass! I am filing a complaint!"
He defiantly stepped through the portal and was gone.
Betty regarded Tojo. "Every year, you visit your parents' graves, though your father told you they wouldn't remember you. Why, Tojo? Why do you visit their graves and lay flowers?"
"Because I remember them," he said softly.
Betty nodded, impressed with the answer.
"Can I ask you something, Miss Skye?"
"Betty," she corrected him. "And yes, ask anything you like."
Tojo motioned around the darkened, empty building. "What happened to everybody?"
"Just a little pinch to the time/space continuum, resurrection of three or four hundred people and a deep posthypnotic suggestion altering their memories of what transpired here tonight," Betty explained. "Not exactly rocket science."
Tojo stared at Betty and her crew, and he suddenly realized what was happening. "You're angels."
"Yes."
"But, I am a demon, damned from birth. What do you want with me?"
Betty came to closer to him. "Tojo, we have been watching you a long time. You are the first of your kind. You are a demon- damned from birth, true. And that makes this all the more compelling. Goodness grew in your heart. You did the right thing, with nothing but the promise of eternal torture for your reward. You risked everything for the people you cared about knowing you'd be cursed regardless and suffer even more for it. I don't know if we have people on our side that would do the same."
"So what happens now?" Tojo asked.
"We are starting a new promotion," Betty said. "And we want you to be the foundation of it. The crown jewel."
"Regional or national?" Tojo inquired.
"Universal," Betty replied.
"I don't understand," Tojo said.
"You will."
One of the angels approached Tojo. It was Eli. He had a small white box in his hands. "Hi Tojo."
"You're one of them," Tojo said, shocked. "So, your grandma-"
"Just a story to help us bond," Eli confessed. "We write scripts and develop characters upstairs, too."
"I used to worry so much about you," Tojo said with a soft smile. He felt a little foolish.
"I was never in any danger. But it was sweet, all the same," Eli said.
Eli handed Tojo the box. He opened it and discovered a white luchador mask inside.
"We want to repackage you as the White Demon," Betty said. "You are part of a much bigger plan. You will bring hope to the hopeless. Dreams to the damned. You'll be a symbol- a message that a hero can be found inside of anyone, no matter what they are born to."
"So, you want me to wear another mask," Tojo said. "Just a prettier one this time. I'll still be an ugly and lonely demon beneath it."
"We can alter things, Tojo," Betty said, motioning to his lower half. "Make you capable of being with any woman you want. Or man. Despite what the conservatives say, the front office is actually not down on that sort of thing. Love who you are going to love! Is that something you are interested in?"
Tojo thought of Darla Hogue. "Yes, very much."
"So do we have a deal?" Betty said, hand outstretched.
"Well, there are just two or three little things that I'd like to throw in to our agreement."
"Okay," Betty said. "Let's hear them."
"Creative control, a fair chunk of merchandise and a piece of the gate," Tojo rattled off, quickly.
Betty laughed heartily and put her arm around the man. "Tojo Smith, you are going to be a star!"
CECIL AND BUBBA MEET THE THANG
If you have not read CECIL & BUBBA MEET A SUCCUBUS, here is what done occurred…
Cecil McGee and Turner “Bubba” Teague are two thirty year old Southern slackers. They’ve known each since junior high and share a double wide at a little trailer park in Azle, Texas. Cecil works for his father’s garage and gas station and Bubba is a bouncer at the Busty & Lusty club in Fort Worth. Neither could ever be accused of working too hard.
Not long ago, the boys had been tying one on at their favorite haunt, The Cherokee Lounge. When they left the place, the boys accidently ran over and killed Crackers, a pit bull owned by Rosalita. Rosalita was a local eccentric lady with fiery gypsy blood in her veins. She cursed them on the spot.
“You will be plagued by the strange and evil until the end of your days.”
And while it had put the fear of the almighty into Bubba, who was strongly superstitious and believed in such things, Cecil had laughed it off, as he himself regarded the supernatural as a bunch of horse hockey.
Shortly after that night, the boys were at the Busty & Lusty, the fine gentlemen’s club where Bubba was employed. There t
he boys met Conrad Woods, a well-spoken Yankee who was conducting a paranormal investigation of the Reynolds house in Fort Worth. The Reynolds house was considered to be the most haunted house in Texas by paranormal enthusiasts. The house sat deep in the dark woods and was a Halloween hot spot for local teenagers.
Conrad offered the boys a job. He wanted them to assist him during the investigation and act as security. Needing the cash, they agreed.
The investigation was carried out on the night before Halloween, as the house was rented for a High School party on Halloween night.
As they conducted the investigation, Conrad called upon the spirit of Hattie Mae Reynolds.
Hattie Mae had been the long-suffering wife of a morally bankrupt land tycoon. She had been whored out to many a man strictly for the carnal amusement of her husband. Not fond of this life of debauchery, Hattie Mae was visited by the devil. He helped her exact her revenge on her husband and other sexual tormentors, and the devil made her a succubus in service to hell as payment.
Conrad succeeded in bringing Hattie Mae forth from the depths of hell. Hattie Mae devoured Conrad’s soul and turned him into an undead minion.
When she attempted to seduce and kill Cecil and Bubba, she realized they had been cursed; their souls had been blackened by the dark sorcery of Rosalita. Hattie Mae could not eat their life force. She demanded they leave, while she prepared to consume all she could before returning to hell. The next day would be Halloween, and it would bring a feast of young and horny souls to Hattie Mae’s doorstep.
Not taking kindly to this, Cecil decided to burn the Reynolds property down. He hoped Hattie Mae would return to the void, with no physical connection left to her in our world. As the grand old house burned, Cecil and Bubba drove off into the night. The boys wondered what new horrors the curse from Rosalita would bring…
And now the saga of Cecil and Bubba continues. The story you are about to peruse takes place on the very next night following the events of CECIL AND BUBBA MEET A SUCCUBUS.
It’s Halloween, y’all. And if you’re anticipating an even bloodier dust-up than the previous story, then you’ve got your expectations set appropriately. So quit fooling around with this here introductory recap and commence with the story!
TMW
From his fortress of solitude on the day 2-3-14
Cecil perched the severed head on the counter near the register. He looked to his daddy for approval.
Reginald McGee was a slighter and hunched older version of his son. There was no mistaking the lineage between the two. They both had rugged dark features that cleaned up pretty nicely if there were women to impress.
Reginald adjusted his glasses and squinted at the horror in Cecil’s hands. “Nah. Don’t like it there. Put it back near the oil cans.”
Cecil took the fake rubber head, a screaming and bleeding visage with rolled up eyes and a bloody neck stump, and placed it back on the shelf where they kept a selection of motor oil.
“I like it there,” Reginald decided, taking a plastic bowl and filling it with bagged candy. “Now, don’t be stingy when those trick-or-treaters show up. You’re representing McGee’s Gas, Garage and 24 Hour Convenience Center. And don’t let your fat friend eat all this candy himself when he gets here.”
“Daddy, why do I have to work the late shift tonight?” Cecil whined. The small but wiry son of Reginald McGee dug a hand with dirty fingernails into the candy bowl. “It’s Halloween.”
Reginald slapped Cecil’s hand out of the bowl. “You’re working tonight because my other employees are family men and have kids, Cecil. It wouldn’t be fair to throw the shift at them.”
Cecil tilted the baseball cap off of his thick and greasy black hair and scratched his head. “But I’m your son. How are these guys ever gonna work for me if you treat me like a peon?”
Reginald’s eyes peeked over his glasses at Cecil. “What’s that you say?”
“Well, you ain’t getting any younger, Daddy. I figured I’d be running the show, one day; being your first born son and all,” Cecil said, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest as he spoke.
Reginald motioned to the stool behind the register. “Sit down, boy. We need to talk.”
Cecil took the seat and Reginald shrugged off his dirty windbreaker and draped it over his arm. He then took off his favorite fishing hat; minding the lures as he did so. Reginald put the hat on the counter and ran a hand through his silver hair. He stared at his boy. Cecil had Reginald’s eyes, and they stared back at his father’s old face. It made this chore even sadder for Cecil’s father.
Reginald had been set to leave for the night. He had a fishing trip early in the morning and there wouldn’t be too many trips left this year with winter coming. But this talk with his offspring was long overdue; because things definitely needed to be clarified and addressed.
“I am going to start this off by saying that I love you, Cecil.”
Cecil nodded uncomfortably. Whenever his daddy professed love, things usually went to hell pretty quickly. “I love you too, Daddy,” Cecil said, suspiciously.
“Son, you will never, ever be in charge of this business,” Reginald said flat out.
“What? How can you say that?” Cecil said. He was nothing but stunned.
Reginald sighed. He didn’t want to inflict this type of pain on his boy, but the lid was pried off of it now. It was something that needed freeing.
“You have been nothing to me but a disappointment,” Reginald continued. “You have no ambition, shame or drive. Your work is shabby and has to be triple-checked. None of your coworkers likes you much. I’ve lost some quality employees because of my loyalty to you. You have never excelled at anything your entire life. I can’t recall a single moment of pride given to me by you. And what really bothers me the most about all of this is how oblivious you are to the huge failure you call your life. I find you a disgusting thing, most of the time. You have the moral values of an alley cat. You seldom bathe. You are something lowly and not deserving of respect. The very sight of you sickens me more often than not. You are my greatest mistake, and I apologize to the world for fostering you upon it.”
Cecil strained to keep from crying like a baby. When he could finally speak, he said, “So, why do you keep me on here, then?”
“Every village needs its idiot, I guess,” Reginald said coldly.
“Damn,” Cecil said, reeling from the remark. He could feel hot tears boiling behind his sockets. “I quit being your responsibility at eighteen, man. So just fire me, if I put you off that much.”
“I promised your mama on her deathbed that I would take care of you,” Reginald explained. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt. “You are a thirty year-old child, and I resent spending so much of the little time I have left on your care and well-being. But, like I said, I promised your mama. You are my burden.”
Cecil’s eyes finally betrayed him and he counted the tears as the least of his humiliation that night. “Damn, man. Don’t spare my feelings now.”
“Your sister is going to get the garage when I step down or die,” Reginald informed his son. He returned the glasses to his face and refocused his solemn attention on Cecil.
“Janie gets the business?” Cecil scoffed. “But what does she know about the business?”
“Your sister is smart, industrious and she has blessed me with two grandsons and two granddaughters. She’s a hell of a lot more deserving, Cecil,” Reginald insisted.
“So, she’s in and I’m out.”
Reginald nodded. “Yes. But don’t worry. You will always have a job here. It’s in my will, and your sister will respect my wishes. You’ll always have family here to work under. When I am gone, there will be your sister. Then, who knows? Maybe you’ll work for your nieces and nephews. I just hope you don’t weigh them down. You have a tendency to do that.”
Cecil looked at his father. Reginald’s face was made of tired stone. Cecil wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and die.
<
br /> “I know these are harsh words, Cecil,” Reginald said, putting his windbreaker and hat back on. “I have hoped and prayed for you and I have pushed and threatened you but you’re thick-headed, son. It’s just not getting through. And I think we’re both too old and set to see a positive change in the matter.”
Reginald walked to the entrance of the mini store and paused. He turned back to Cecil. “Son, this estimation of you would have died with me and I would have let you live your life like the blissful idiot you are. But believing you have it in you to run this place? It’s just foolish thinking on your part. You have to see that.”
Texas Strange Page 31
