Page 37 of Blaze of Our Lives

Once out of sight, Brolrath proceeded to explain. “The smoker told us a woman was coming to end us—a woman of great power and fury. A Demon who had the power of two.”

“Correct,” Ezzanod confirmed. “The power of two must be referring to your split personality issue. And other than when Drogruzun rudely insulted you, you haven’t seemed all that furious to me. It was very polite of you to offer to get Brolrath up to speed when Heff Brobst was being such a psychotic dick.”

“The woman who smokes made it very clear that our job was to end you,” Drogruzun revealed. “We might look evil, but down deep, we’re just nice guys with unfortunate body odor and large physiques. We’re more into Camp Bite and Pokémon than murder.”

The other two gave Drogruzun a look. Ezzanod elbowed him.

“Oh yes! And I’d like to apologize for calling you a plebian. It was unnecessary and uncouth. In my defense, the redhead who smokes told us to insult you. She said if we got you angry enough, you would get messy. It gave us a better chance at survival.”

I walked back into sightline, glanced up at the bleachers and flipped Phyllis off. She waved. The talking ashtray was on my shitlist. After I’d profanely expressed myself, I rejoined the guys.

As sincere as the Demons seemed to be, I was having a difficult time believing their story after the way we were introduced. “Keep talking,” I said.

Drogruzun ran his huge Demon hand through his Mr. Rogers’ hair. It was all kinds of bizarre. “Like my comrade, Brolrath, said earlier, we have no clue as to why we’re here.”

I studied their confused faces. They seemed to be telling the truth. “How did you get here?”

“OH MY HELL,” Pandora shouted. “They’re from your fucking imagination. They’re not real.”

Shit. Was that why they were fans? Because I made them that way? The thought was mortifying. “You don’t know that,” I shot back.

“Know what?” Ezzanod asked.

This had to be confusing. “Sorry, I was talking to my split personality. How about from here on out, I’ll call her Shitty Whore? Will that help?”

“Immensely,” Drogruzun said. “Shitty Whore is a lovely name. I once dated a shitty whore, and we had a couple of good decades before she moved on.” With his British accent, Shitty Whore sounded kind of nice.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.

Droguzun shrugged. “She moved on to Ezzanod.”

Ezzanod elbowed Droguzun and giggled. “Too right, she did.”

“Do you all live somewhere?” I asked, trying not to lead them. If they were characters from my imagination, they wouldn’t be able to answer.

“Oh yes,” Brolrath said. “We live in Snoz.”

Blow me over with a feather. “With the munchkins?”

“I’m not sure what a munchkin is, but if you mean the delightfully small and violent people with fangs who make cookies, then yes,” Brolrath confirmed.

“You have the most warped imagination in the Universe,” Pandora muttered.

“Zip it, Shitty Whore. That’s not helpful.” I smiled apologetically at the Demons. “Help me out here. You look like evil Demons, but you’re telling me you’re not.”

Ezzanod leaned in close. The smell of sulfur was intense. It was all I could do not to gag. “In Snoz, we learned that we needed to stop being the people we think everyone expects us to be and just be the people we really are.”

“Holy hell,” Pandora yelled. “That’s the lesson to be gleaned from The Wizard of Oz.”

Shit was getting weirder by the minute. “Do you all know of the Higher Power?”

“Shaun Cassidy?” Brolrath inquired.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Pandora groused with a laugh.

I ignored her. “Umm… sure. Do you know It?”

“Oh no,” Drogruzun said. “No one knows Shaun Cassidy. Shaun Cassidy is a mystery.”

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