Page 31 of Blaze of Our Lives

“How do you feel?” she questioned.

“Kind of like I want to softly vomit into a paper cup.”

“That was rather graphic,” she commented.

“Like talking about carving up man-bits wasn’t graphic?” Not that I cared that she’d suggested it. I’d threatened to cut off the Clarks’ johnsons moments earlier. It was how she’d meticulously described the deed in step-by-step detail.

“Touché,” she replied with a laugh. “Remember this, you’re a Goddess of the Darkness. One of two. Actually, at the moment, you’re both of us. That fuckstick, Candy Vargo, believes you’re a badass. Be the badass. I want my body and my freedom back.”

“Amen to that,” I added.

“Walk out there and do the damned challenge. Narrate what you do so I can help. I’d also highly suggest you win. The talking ashtray warned that if you don’t, you’ll have to start from the beginning. I really don’t think I can take listening to those idiot munchkins again. Although, I wouldn’t mind another cookie.”

That gave me pause. “You think we’ll have to go back to Snoz? I kind of took it as we’d have to repeat whatever we failed. We did pretty good with the munchkins.”

“How about this? Let’s not find out. Just win the challenge, so we can be off to the next one,” she said.

“I’d really like to do this only once,” I muttered, shaking out my arms and hopping up and down to warmup.

“Then do it,” she shouted.

With a quick double pinch to both of my weenuses, I stepped out from behind the tree and walked onto the set of the dream state version of Survivor.

I had one job… survive it.

CHAPTER NINE

As I walked toward what felt like my destiny—or possibly my decapitation—all movement on the beach ceased. Even the music stopped. Phyllis was up high in the bleachers, smoking like a chimney. Drogruzun, aka Mr. Rogers, Ezzanod, aka Mr. McFeely and Brolrath, aka Pee-wee Herman glared at me with fury in their eyes. It was seriously difficult to reconcile that their bodies were Demonic and their faces were sweet and adorable. It made them even more terrifying.

“Be prepared to die, repugnant plebian,” Drogruzun bellowed in a British accent, flexing his massive muscles and baring his teeth.

“That bastard just insulted you by calling you common,” Pandora hissed. “His scrawny balls are first on the chopping block. Say this—'Not if I end you first, you bloody tosser cock-up wanker.’ His pea-brain will understand it. It’s British insult slang.”

“Seriously?” I asked, speaking softly and barely moving my lips. “Won’t that piss him off?”

“Get the cotton out of your mouth. I can barely understand you.” Pandora sounded annoyed.

I sucked in a huge gulp of salty air as I resisted the urge to scream at her or, even more detrimental to my chances of winning this game, maim myself so she’d feel it. “I’m talking covertly because I don’t want them to hear me talking to you. I’m doing a ventriloquist kind of thing, Shitty Whore.”

“Oh. Okay, jackass. Makes sense. Anyway, it sounds to me like he’s already pissed off. Do not let him win a war of words. Stay on top. Shits like him respect appalling behavior and unadulterated violence. Trust me, I know. I used to be like that… I mean, I am like that,” she insisted, sounding a little discombobulated at her misstep. “Infer that he has a tiny penis.”

“Wait. What?”

“Just DO IT,” she yelled.

Having no clue what was about to come out of my mouth, I followed the directions. The only thing my rattled brain could remember from what she’d just said was to make fun of his junk. This was a life or semi-permanent death situation. I wasn’t going to mess it up. “Well, well, well,” I said with a wide and forced grin that seemed to bewilder him. “Aren’t you just a ball of sunshine whose pecker is so tiny you could screw the holes of a pasta strainer.”

Both Ezzanod’s and Brolrath’s eyes grew wide, then they roared with laughter.

Drogruzun shook his fists with rage. “Take that back. I will destroy you!”

“I’m so sorry. You’re right,” I said, sounding the opposite of contrite. “That’s not what I meant. I meant that your peepee is so minute that you could masturbate through the slits of a fork.”

“Genius,” Pandora squealed.

Ezzanod and Brolrath fell to the sand. They were cackling and wheezing, tears streaming down their faces as they rolled around.

Drogruzun was not amused. The larger-than-life Demon was fuming, smoke tendrils literally coming out of his giant ears. He was furious.

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