What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [127]
Whitford collapsed sideways, and the sizzling sound grew louder as he offered up his own whimpery accompaniment.
“Oh my God!” said Lola.
“What? Where?” asked Satan. He glanced around in a bit of a panic.
The others kept their eyes glued to Whitford. In front of them, the Governor lay on his side, curled up in the fetal position, steaming and fizzling. His whole body heaved as he gasped for air. The remains of his clothes clung in strips and tattered shreds to the hulking mass of his body, revealing two things: first, that there really was a lot of him, and second, that very little of his bulk was covered in skin. And this epidermal paucity did little to aid his already grotesque appearance. Weak, sad-kitty-cat sounds seeped from his mouth.
“Ooh! So, that’s what you look like without skin,” said Raju. “Gross.”
“Whoa,” said Festus. “Look at his penis.”
“Uh … no?” said Raju. He turned to look Festus up and down disgustedly. “Fag.”
The group just stood and stared at the pile of smoldering, heaving flesh for a moment. Somewhere off in another part of the building, there was a rumbling, staticky roar that lasted a couple of seconds and then began to fade. The walls rattled and shook. Liam, Lola, and Festus exchanged quizzical glances and shrugs at the noise.
Raju was otherwise engaged. “Can I kick him?” he asked.
“What?” said Liam.
Raju pointed to the vile nastiness heaving and being disgusting on the floor. “Can I kick him?”
“No,” said Liam.
Even Festus gave Raju a look. “Do you really want to get that on your shoe?”
“What is your problem?” asked Lola. “Hasn’t he been through enough?” She gestured to the slimy lump of ex-governor. “I mean, he’s got no skin. Let it go already.”
Raju made a face as if she’d just asked him to clean out underneath a refrigerator using only his tongue. “What?” Then the unpleasantness drained out of his face. “I love you.”
Lola glared at him.
“So, gentlemen,” said Satan. He turned, holding his hands out like a circus ringmaster. “How was that?”
Festus nodded appreciatively and, when the Devil just stared at him, gave a polite golf clap. Then he realized that Satan was staring at Raju.
Raju sucked air in through his teeth. “Yeah…” he said. “I don’t know…”
Satan’s shoulders slumped. His eyes grew dark and his lips turned into a very thin line. But then he brightened. “I’ve got an idea!” he said. “Watch this.” He held his free hand up high over Whitford and made a fist, spilling individual drops of clear liquid down onto the Governor’s body.
Whitford screamed as each tiny droplet splattered on his skin – or, rather, the acres of slimy, anatomical nastiness where his skin had so recently been. This went on for almost thirty seconds before the Devil finally tossed the spent lemon wedge aside. The governor whimpered and made inarticulate animal sounds.
“Better?” asked the Devil, turning back to his audience. “Hey, wait! Where are you going?”
Liam, Lola, Raju, and Festus stopped and turned.
Raju made puppy dog eyes, and pointed back over his shoulder. “They say we have to go…”
“You can’t go!” said Satan. “I still have to do the preacher.”
Liam grabbed Raju. “Come on,” he said, and the group turned to leave.
They didn’t get very far. At that moment, Bill Cadmon came back around the corner, nearly crashing into Lola. He paused, gave her a sly smile, and then shook his head as if to clear it. He stepped around her and into the middle of the hall to stand in front of the Devil.
Satan turned. “Ah!” he said. “There you are!” He stepped toward the preacher with his arms out, as if he were about to embrace the man.
Cadmon just smirked and glanced back over his shoulder. As he did so, a very tall, very well-lit man with wings came into view. Cadmon looked back at Satan and smirked again.
Satan