Angel Trouble: A grim reaper horror comedy (24/7 Demon Mart Book 3)

by D. M. Guay

  Angel Trouble

  A Grim Reaper Comedy

  D.M. Guay

  Copyright © 2021 by Denise Guay Trowbridge

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by James at Goonwrite.com

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  For Nerdly.

  Thank you for the math. Seriously.

  THANK YOU FOR DOING ALL. THE. MATH.

  Contents

  Hello. My Name is Lloyd, and I’m in way over my head.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Book Sausage

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  Who the heck is D.M. Guay?

  Books by D.M. Guay

  Hello. My Name is Lloyd, and I’m in way over my head.

  As I lay sandwiched between a giant, unconscious, jelly centipede from hell, the ghost of a gill guy, and an incubus pervert in a leopard print thong, I looked to the sky and asked, “Jesus, haven't I been through enough?”

  No, Lloyd. No, you have not.

  Chapter 1

  “Wow.” DeeDee said. “I knew Steve was mad at us, but I didn't know he was this mad.”

  The three of us stood in the candy aisle, staring at the new cleaning crew. They'd just arrived in a beat-up cardboard box, which Steve had unceremoniously dropped outside by the ice machine without so much as a hello.

  There were six of them. They were buck naked, and they weren't zombies. But that's all we could say for certain. They kind of looked like piglets, only not cute. Eight inches tall, with hairless, pudgy wrinkled bodies. They stood on their two hind legs like people, but had hooves instead of feet. They had big ears and lots of sharp, pointy fangs.

  “Jesus. They look like the demons on the cover of a shitty Norwegian death metal album. Only the artist didn't get the airbrush right.” Kevin leaned against the mop bucket, out of breath just from talking.

  Yeah. About that. Kevin wasn't exactly in peak physical condition these days. He hadn't fully recovered from all the cursed combos he'd eaten during the Monster Burger fiasco. The spell had broken, but the fat persisted.

  “Really, kid? You got a lot of nerve calling me fat.”

  Crap. He heard that.

  “Yeah. I did. Now focus. What does Steve expect us to do with these things? Look at 'em. They're a pack of dumb asses. And we're already full up on dumbasses.” He thumbed a leg back at me.

  The creatures chittered to each other as they climbed up on each other's shoulders, forming a chain up to the hanger bags of Starburst. Again. They'd been trying to get that bag of candy for at least an hour, only to toddle and fall, roll to the floor empty-handed, then do it all over again. They didn't seem to be very bright. Or very dextrous. Or very much of anything except hungry. And persistent.

  “Do you think they're from hell or from earth? I couldn't find them in the books.” DeeDee rubbed her chin. “I mean, how is this going to work? What are we supposed to do if we need a cleanup when there's a customer in the store?”

  “Don't you get it, sweets? That's the point. This is Steve shooting us two middle fingers. He sent them here to punish us. It's the only explanation. I hope you like to mop, kid, because you're gonna be doing a lot of it. Starting now.” Kevin kicked the mop bucket toward me with his fat back leg. “Double up on the Curse Breaker, will ya? We gotta wash every speck of Katia's bad juju off this place, or we're dead. All dead.”

  “Come on, Kev. No one has seen her since Monster Burger burned down. We reinforced the gate,” DeeDee said. “Don't you think you're being melodramatic?”

  “Am I? You ever seen him like this?”

  Kevin pointed at Faust, who was hanging yet another workplace safety poster. It said, “BEWARE OF THE BEAST.” Yes. In all caps. Screaming—above an old woodcut illustration of a busty brunette tied to a stake, standing in a pile of sticks, on fire. He'd hung so many, they were starting to look like creepy wallpaper. Faust smoothed out the poster. But he forgot to smooth himself. His hair stuck up in all the wrong places. His suit was wrinkled. Black circles ringed his eyes.

  “Well,” DeeDee said. “He does seem a bit off.”

  That was an understatement. He hadn't been his usual calm, suave self since that tentacle monster spit him out of another dimension, we found out his ex-girlfriend cursed our beer cave, and she turned the burger joint across the intersection into a zombie factory.

  “You think? I've worked here since you two were in diapers, and I've never seen him like this. His ex is nuts. Look what she did to me! If I get any fatter, I'll pop. Jesus.” He rubbed his bulging carapace and huffed, “Being fat is exhausting. How do you live like this, kid?”

  “I'm not—” fat! I was gonna say it out loud until I glanced down.

  “Yeah. Sure, kid. Sure. You're not fat, and I'm Ozzy Osborne. Now get mopping.”

  My cheeks flushed hot, and I wheeled the mop bucket away, totally humiliated. So wouldn't you know it, Angel eight ball rolled out from behind the boner pill display, throwing triangles. Great. Cue more humiliation. My guardian angel was like a kick-me-while-I'm-down magnet.

  I ignored him, but it was no use. He rolled right in front of me. Well, roll was generous. More like wobbled. Angel still had a strip of silver duct tape around his middle, to cover the crack Chef left when he bit him in half.

  “Hurrr hurrr hurrrr.”

  I read his teeny triangle again.

  “Hurrr hurrr hurrr.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “Sniff. Shlorrrrrrp.” The triangle dipped and turned. Barely. His water level was pretty low. “Hurrrrr.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Don't look at me.” He swiveled away, and I heard a pfooooooo like he was blowing his nose. Then he swiveled back. “Okay, now look at me. I've had a rough day, but I can't let my personal life interfere with work. Listen. Head Office is in a tizzy. The entire celestial order is getting audited. Major scandal.”

  “Okay.”

  “This is serious. Pravuil is in charge of accounting now, and he's a real stick in the mud. You need to make significant progress before he reviews your file, or we're both screwed. He's counting Old Testament sins again. Do you have any idea how many bacon cheeseburgers you've eaten? So get out your 'Capable Adult' and 'Hero's Journey' checklists, and get to work. Start ticking boxes. I need this job!”

  “You're kidding.”

  “I certainly am not. My rent just doubled, and I'm all aloooooooone. Hurrrr. Hurrrrr. Hurrrrrrrrr.” Angel wobbled in slow circles, crying? I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there, watching him roll.

  “I said don't look at m
e! I don't want you to see me like this. Hurrrrrrrrrrrrr. Hurrrr. Hurrrrrr.”

  “Okay, then.” I wheeled the bucket to the back of the store and mopped under Bubby's TV.

  Angel rolled up next to me. “What's up with you lately? You're acting weird.”

  “You told me not to look at you!”

  “Not that. You normally put up way more of a fight. You haven't been the same since that zombie stuff. All you do is shrug and sigh and say 'Okay.' You're awfully mopey. Is something bothering you?”

  I shrugged. Duh. When you're nearly eaten by zombies, it makes you think. I had all kinds of feelings that I didn't know what to do with, shoved down deep, twisting and churning and festering. I'd felt bad ever since the Monster Burger incident. Not scared, really. Just bad.

  “Cheer up. Most people would be happy to know God has a plan for them. Yours is outlined in big letters. You don't even have to think about it. You just have to do it. You should be over the moon.”

  I wasn't, so I kept mopping.

  “Most people never get the chance to save the world once, let alone twice. You should be proud. Well, kind of. I mean, you helped save the world, but you weren't like, the Number One Guy,” Angel said. “DeeDee and Kevin generally do the heavy lifting. You're more like the sidekick, but that's something.”

  “Sidekick?” My heart skipped a beat. Huh. “Oh my God. That's it.”

  Angel's right. I was a sidekick, and I wasn't even a good one! Too fat to climb a shelf, even with a zombie horde chasing me. I had only survived this long due to sheer luck—and because Kevin and DeeDee had skills—because God knows I didn't have any skills of my own. I was about as useful as that Wonder Twin who turns into a bucket of ice water. No wonder Kevin was always on my case. Kevin. Jerk. “If I saved us—just me, just once—Kevin would have to be nice to me.”

  “Wait. Did you just say you want to be a hero? You did, didn't you? Hallelujah. I might not get fired after all! Bring it in. Give me a hug.”

  “Uh. I didn't say that. I was just thinking out loud.” I mean. Let's get real here. Me? But Angel didn't listen.

  “We're finally on the same page. Just in time. We've got a lot to do. You need all the points you can get. Oh. Look. Now's your chance. Go be heroic. Good luck!”

  He rolled right into my foot, as if nudging me along. “What are you doing?”

  His triangle pointed behind me. I stood up straight. My grip tightened on the mop handle. I swallowed hard and turned around. Super duper slowly, because anything could be behind me. Anything.

  Turns out Angel was pointing at a Cookie Scout. She was small and knock-kneed, maybe ten years old. She stood at the very end of the aisle, in a little uniform. She fiddled with a fat pink sash with a big felt cookie badge sewn on it.

  “Uh. Hey there, little girl.” I moved closer, but not too fast. I didn't want her to think I was a Chester Molester. “Are you lost?”

  She looked up at me with a cherubic little face. Hair in pigtails. Tears filling her big brown eyes. She pointed to a cardboard box on the floor next to her. Boxes of cookies. Huh. Poor kid. She must have wandered away from her troop. She must be terrified!

  Then she said, “You're fat. I bet you like cookies. You wanna buy some cookies? I need to sell three more boxes to pay for camp. You look like you could eat three boxes in one sitting.”

  Gee. What a sweet little girl. Not. Still, she wasn't wrong. Universal truth: Fat men do not pass up cookies, not even in an emergency. They just don't. Plus, hello. Everyone knows charity calories don't count.

  “They count. Trust me.” Angel rolled up next to me. Of course. Always an opinion.

  “Yeah. I like cookies.” Why lie at this point? Come on. We can all see my fat. I went down on one knee so we were eye to eye. “These look yummy. Tell you what. How about we call your parents, and then I'll buy a box?”

  “One box. For real? Wow. Fat and a cheapskate. I know you can eat more than one box. Wait a second.” Her eyes darted back and forth. She nervously patted her sash. “Where's my unicorn? Do you have my unicorn? I want my unicorn. I earned it!”

  She grabbed my arms. Her brown eyes stared at me, not blinking. Not crying. Nothing. “Where's my unicorn? You stole it. Give it back, now!”

  “I don't have any unicorns.”

  “That big guy said it was in here. He said you had it.” She squeezed my arms, tight. Her hands were cold as ice cubes, and her fingers dug in so hard they felt like knives.

  Then her eyes rolled back in her head.

  Crick. Crick. Crunch.

  Uh oh. That sound? It was bones cracking. Her body stretched out, long and longer, like an invisible hand pulling out Play Doh. Her shoulders popped into weird, jagged shapes. She looked up at me with black eyes. All black, even the bits that were supposed to be white. Her mouth split into a gaping maw lined with pointy awful black dripping teeth.

  “What the FUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!”

  Yeah. I screamed. Because dude. This kid was a monster. Literally. Cherubic, my butt! I tried to pull away, but her hands turned to claws and clamped down hard on my shoulders. A thing rose behind her head. A fat fwapping tail. The end looked sharp.

  Gulp. Not good.

  She shrieked, “UNICORN!” and opened wide.

  AAAAAAH! SHE'S GOING TO EAT ME!

  “Don't you dare die without all your check marks. I'll get written up!” Angel rolled into me. “What are you waiting for? Go on. Get her. Whip out your best moves! Show me what you've got.”

  I wriggled and kicked, but it was no use. She had a death grip on me. “Why didn't you warn me?”

  “How was I supposed to know? What monster brings cookies?” Angel said.

  “UNICORN!” That scout smacked me so hard across the face, I flew down the aisle, taking everything in the car section down with me.

  She stomped up to me, crunching in tiles with her saddle shoes. Then she was on top of me, pawing at my shirt, my pants, my pockets, tail waving, fangs bared, shrieking, “Give it to me. I earned it!”

  I grabbed the closest thing and shoved it right in her mouth. Turns out, it was one lousy pineapple air freshener.

  Mmm mmmph mmmmmph.

  Ha! Choke on that! Yes!

  Wait. Those were yummy noises. Shit.

  She swallowed it and licked her fangs. “Give me UNICOR—Shhhhppppplllllllllllllllllp.”

  Her black eyes went wide and a hard round white thing emerged from between her fangs, covered in goop. Jesus. It looked like the mini-mouth inside a xenomorph. Her black eyes stared at me, glassy and unflinching.

  I shrieked and tried to wriggle free. “Don't eat meeeee!”

  Shhhhppppplllllllllllllllllp.

  That white thing shot straight into the linoleum, right between my legs, so hard the tile cracked. The demon scout slumped. She let me go.

  Wait. That wasn't a mouth. It was a broomstick, pinning her hell face to the floor. DeeDee held the other end.

  Kevin slugged up, out of breath and drenched in sweat, dragging a red canister behind him. He pulled the trigger and a cloud of white foam rained down on me and the ersatz scout. The second it hit her, her body began to bubble and ooze, disintegrating into a black, thick sticky puddle.

  I screamed and batted the foam away. “Don't melt meeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  Kevin didn't stop until the canister fizzled out. “Relax, kid. Doesn't work on people.”

  They looked at me. I looked at them. Then DeeDee said, “You okay?”

  “Uh. No!” Hello! Demon Cookie Scout!

  Kevin dropped that canister like it was hot, and scurried to that cookie box. He knocked it over and stuck his head in. “The cookies are real! Peanut Butter Patties? Hell yeah! My favorite. Mmm. Pop 'em open for me, will ya? I'm starving.” He sat up and rubbed his rather generous belly. “Hold up. Ignore me. I'm not thinking straight. I've had nothing but carrot sticks for three days. My food cravings are out of control. Don't let me eat them. No matter what. Promise me, kid. Kid?”

  He looked right
at me.

  Was Kevin seriously talking about cookies and diets right now? While I sat in the sticky black oozing puddle that used to be a monster trying to eat me? My blood pressure was so high, my lips were numb. All I could say was, “Scout?!?”

  “Are you really surprised? Did you honestly think she was out selling cookies this late? It's not even cookie season! Geesh. You shoulda known she wasn't human the minute you saw her. The demon in scout's clothing is the oldest trick in the book,” he said. “Plus, if you'd followed standard unidentified entity protocol, we wouldn't have had to step in and save your butt. I don't know what I'm gonna do with you. You've worked here long enough to know that. Amateur hour is over, kid. It's time to stop being a half ass, and start being a full ass, dumbass.”

  I won't lie. His words stung. “Wait. Standard what?”

  “Standard unidentified entity protocol. It's in your employee manual. See?” He whipped a tiny book out of. Huh. I don't know where. He never seemed to have any pockets when he owed me money.

  He cleared his throat and read aloud. “If you encounter a hostile entity of unknown origin, subdue the beast using standard issue slay foam until such time as a proper classification can be made. Slay foam is conveniently located in your gate's weapons safe, as well as in the emergency boxes located throughout your store.”

  “What boxes?”

  He pointed to a bright red “Break In Case of Emergency” box hanging on the wall. Literally right next to me. It had a fire extinguisher inside.

  “But. Fire?”

  “That's not fire foam, kid. That's a front. Because the whole store is a front. It's what we do here. Now, let's see what kind of demon makes this much mess.” He flipped some pages. And he flipped some more. “Huh. She ain't in mine. She in yours?”