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Author
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Topic: LANCE AND THE DARK PRINCE OF COMEDY: PART 1
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Tostito
ZooKeeper
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posted 06-16-2001 05:54 AM
   
One morning, Lance encountered Satan in the playground on his way to school. As he passed Satan by, Lance noticed something very unusual. Satan didn’t try to tempt Lance, didn’t offer him wealth, power, love or fame. In fact, Satan didn’t even say a word. He just stood there, slumped against the monkey bars, looking gloomy and distracted.
“What’s wrong?” asked Lance. “Aren’t you going to try and tempt me?”
“No, Lance” replied Satan. “I’m not in the mood.”
Suspecting some kind of satanic trick, Lance kept his distance.
“Why not?” he inquired.
The devil growled at Lance. He snarled, huffed and puffed. “Consider yourself lucky, boy! Now scoot while you still have a soul!”
Startled by Satan’s harsh demeanor, Lance turned and was just about to run off to school, when he heard the devil call out behind him.
“I’m sorry, Lance," said Satan. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that sometimes I feel so frustrated. You see, my work can be very repetitive. Wealth! Power! Love! Fame! I use the same temptations over and over again! And all the bureaucracy! The paperwork I have to go through to purchase a single soul! Lance, it would make your head spin!”
“Oh, why?” moaned the devil. “Why can’t I leave it all behind and do what I really want to do? Why, Lance? Why can’t I be a ventriloquist?”
“A ventriloquist?” exclaimed Lance.
“Yes!” said the devil, bouncing up and down, clapping his hands and wagging his long, pointed tail. “I’m just starting really, but I think I’m rather good. For a beginner, that is!”
“What a coincidence!” cried Lance. “I’m a ventriloquist, too! I have a dummy! His name is also Lance!”
“I have one as well!” announced the devil. Then, with a grand flourish, he thrust his hand into the folds of his long, red cape and extracted a wooden doll. The doll had a long, red cape as well. It also had a long, pointed tail, horns, hairy goat legs and cloven feet - just like Satan.
“This is my dummy!” hissed Satan. “His name is also Satan!”
“Hey!” Satan’s dummy hissed back. “I’m not the dummy! You’re the dummy!”
Satan let out a loud snort. Then a snicker. Then a deep, throaty cackle which sent shivers down Lance’s spine.
“Haw! Haw! Haw!” he shrieked. “I love that one! ‘He’s not the dummy, I’m the dummy!’ You get it, Lance? ... Haw! Haw! Haw! ... I’M THE DUMMY!!!”
“Yes, I get it," said Lance. He mustered a smile, but it wasn’t very convincing. Immediately, the devil’s grin fell. He became sullen, unconfident.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyeing Lance anxiously. “Was I bad? ... Be honest! Be brutally honest! I can take it!”
Suddenly, the devil dropped his doll and lunged forward, grabbing Lance by the shoulders. His sharp nails poked through Lance’s shirt. His nostrils flared and his mouth opened wide, revealing two horrible rows of misshapen, yellow fangs. Lance cringed at the sight. He winced at the devil’s breath, which smelled of rotten eggs.
“You don’t have to say it, Lance! I know I’m bad! I know my act needs work!” the devil bellowed. “Hey, maybe you can help me! Maybe you can give me pointers! Would you, Lance? Would you, please? Would you? Would you?”
Taken aback, Lance pondered the devil’s request. On one hand, the idea of doing favors for Satan made Lance feel very uncomfortable. On the other hand, the devil truly loved ventriloquism, and he was turning to Lance, not as the devil, but as a fellow ventriloquist! How could Lance possibly turn him away?
“All right” said Lance finally, squirming free from the devil’s grasp. “Come over to my house after school. I’ll see what I can do.” | |
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