“Do you ever get bored with it though?” he asked as he shovelled the pile of meat into the funnel. The tube that flows between funnel and mincer is just big enough for the chunks of meat to flow through easily. The mincer, well, minces the meat, and then it gets pushed down another tube into the victim. From the other end of the victim is a tube that removes the waste and pumps into the void, the gap between circles, to float forever in a never-ending uninhabited darkness of shite. “Look at me” the other demon says, holding his arms out. Its hands are shaped for the job it was born to do. One is a shovel, the other is a corkscrew. One for moving the meat, one for unblocking. “What use would I be in a circle like lust or wrath?” he seems dejected, resigned to a job he does not want.
“Ah mate, don’t be like that,” his friend says. “There is someone for everyone. Believe me, these humans they have some weird kinks.”
“Look at me, I am nothing,” he says, jamming the corkscrew into the pipe to shove the meat through. “Half the time I either have shit or raw meat hanging from me, I will be a shit shoveller forever”. His demonic pal stops for a moment, watching him as he rams the meat through. “You are more than that, my friend,” he says “You need to see your potential”. He holds his own arms up, one a shovel, the other a tenderising hammer. “Look at this, most people see a hammer right?” he holds up his hammer hand “but in lust I’ve seen people who like being hit, you know, down there!” he points down at his crotch.
“Why the fuck would they want that?”
“No idea, like I said, they are weird,” he looks down at the victim they are feeding. “What about you, want a tickle with his screw? A paddling with his shovel? We can give it a go if you’d like”. Sometimes you do not need words, he could not have spoken even had he wanted to, they had inserted the tube with expert precision. They say the eyes are a gateway to the soul, in this case it is a portal to distress. The pupils expand at a pace that would have made light seem slow, the eyes spread to open as far as the body will allow. This person does not want a curly tickling. “Aye, I didn’t think so” he says “It ain’t for everyone”. He looks at the belly of his victim, it is bloated and the skin is almost translucent where it has stretched so much. “People look at us and think ‘Ohhhh, demon. They must be in to strange shit’ but we ain’t. You’re the depraved lot. You have lust, wrath, gluttony, greed – duh – fraud and so on and so forth. You do all that shit willingly, they make us for it”. Corkscrew leans over and pokes the belly of their victim. There is no give at all it is packed; packed to the limit. “I think this one is ready to blow” he says, poking it again for good measure. “What do you think? Give it some more, or let it blow?”. The other demon pokes the belly with its hammer, giving it a good hard push. The victim groans, well it is more of a gurgled muffled cry for help. He will not get help. “Tell you what, you come to lust with me, we’ll discuss it over a pint”
“Beer sounds good” corkscrew replies. With that, they leave their victim to digest. They leave the room in good spirits, another job well done. “Besides, think about the change of scenery! I hear lust is all pink, with cafes and everything”.
“I am still not su” he stops, a loud bang has cut him off.
“huh, well I guess he was ready to top after all” the demon says, placing his hammer on the other’s shoulder as they just continue walking.