What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [134]
A frog hopped out of the crack, landing just inches from Satan’s foot – which, as it happens, was clad in what could only really fairly be described as “a Jesus sandal.” It sat there for a moment, oblivious to either the situation it had entered or the stares it was getting.
As Satan watched the frog, his expression shifted, changing his face from statuesque beauty to something that would have looked more appropriate directing the flow of rainwater high up on the outside of a medieval cathedral. The edges of his mouth curled downward, his eyes grew large and fiery, his nostrils flared, and his wings seemed to get bigger and somehow pointier.
And then the frog croaked.
The Devil started to shake, and then, without warning, he leapt into the air, his arms outstretched in front and behind his body like a Kung Fu angel. He seemed to hang there for an impossibly long time – which is actually exactly what happened, since he was an angel – until he finally came down and, landing on his heel, splatted the frog into many nasty froggy bits.
“Jesus!” said Lola. “What is your problem?”
Satan glanced around for a second, confused, and then looked sheepish again. He shrugged and pointed at the frog, as if the fact that frogs needed to be stomped to bits was perfectly fucking obvious.
“He is the Devil, you know,” said Raju.
Lola whacked him.
“Ow!” said Raju. “Witch!”
“Wait a minute,” said Festus. “It’s him.” Nobody waited a minute, or did anything else to acknowledge the fact that he had spoken, so he said it again. “It’s him.”
“What?” asked Liam.
“Who?” asked Satan, administering a sly kick to another frog who’d appeared from the not-quite-gaping chasm. He smiled, as if that would make his amphibicide somehow alright.
“Dude, what’s your problem, you weirdo?” said Raju. “Don’t you—”
“You,” said Festus, turning to face Liam. “It was you all along.
“What?” asked Liam.
“You!” said Festus. “You’re a freak! All that weird stuff! All of it! It always happens when you’re around. It’s you! All of this is your fault.”
“I had nothing to do with this shit!” said Liam.
“No,” said Festus. “You are the Antichrist.”
“You just got shot! But you didn’t. You’re just fine!” Festus was just shy of foaming at the mouth at this point. “And… And I was Jesus. I’m your companion and I pretended to be Jesus. Just like in the Book of Daniel. All of it. Just like in the Bible.”
“Whoa, dude,” said Raju. “Hold it right there. You pretended to be Jesus? That’s blasphemy, dude. I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
Festus turned to look at Raju. “What the fuck? Shut up.” He turned back to Liam. “You are the Antichrist. Everything fits.”
“Pssh… nah.” Liam waved Festus off. “That’s crazy.”
“No, no,” said Raju, “he’s nowhere near that cool.” He turned to Satan to explain. “He just owns a guitar shop.”
But Satan wasn’t looking at Raju. His eyes were fixed on Festus. They were kind of squinty too, like maybe he was posing for a poster for an action movie and needed to convey that sense of cool, jaded apathy that really hot movie stars seem to be so good at.
“The frogs…” said Festus.
Satan’s eyes narrowed a little further.
“The locusts…”
More ocular narrowing occurred.
“The earthquake, the nasty rain…”
At this point Satan was squinting so hard that it wasn’t clear whether he could actually see anything.
“And you set that guy’s head on fire,” said Festus, turning back to face Liam again.
“And the cheese sauce,” said Raju, his eyes wide.
“What?” asked Festus.
“The cheese sauce, dude.”
“I,” said Festus, “have no clue what you’re talking about. None at all.”
“Dude! The fucking cheese sauce! Are you stupid or something? The fucking cheese sauce, dude!”
“You’re right!” said Festus. “The queso! I totally forgot!” That seemed to clench it. “You are the Antichrist!”
“Just because I can make queso