Page 29 of Guiding Blight

Candy didn’t have any problems speaking up. “That’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard,” she said, picking her ear with the toothpick that had been in her mouth only moments earlier. “I think it might just work.”

Moon screamed with joy. In her excitement at being complimented by the Keeper of Fate, she began to seduce my couch. It was not a pretty picture. She got a few good humps in before she got cock-blocked, or couch-block, rather violently by a powerhouse right hook from Ophelia before getting drop-kicked across the room by Irma.

Between Corny’s bare ass on my cushions and Moon’s lewd attempt at banging the sage green sofa, I was done. Next week, I was buying a new couch.

“You know…” I said, deciding diplomacy was overrated. “Having the Succubus army bang the lives out of all of Pandora’s followers isn’t working for me. At all.”

“It’s fucking absurd,” Abaddon muttered. “No pun intended.”

“Hang on,” Candy said. “Let’s go over this bull-crap. One, you need the Tome of Dark Magic to figure out how to get the bitch back in the box. Correct?”

“Correct,” I replied.

“Two, you have to go to the Darkness anyway to claim your Bitch Goddess Cecily status.”

“True,” I agreed.

“The underpants fucker, the one who dropkicked the couch humper and the couch fucker herself are the only ones familiar with Pandora’s castle. Right?”

“Right.”

Candy scratched her head then pulled out a clean toothpick. She tossed it in the air and caught it in her teeth. “The Succubi thing is a little whacked, but it would definitely get the point across that you’re in charge now.”

I winced. “I’d like to do that without forcing the Succubi to have sex with a bunch of Demons and, as a by-product, killing an ass-load of people.” I wasn’t sure which would be worse, feeling like a pimp or being responsible for mass murder.

Candy nodded. “I get that. Never good to start with a bunch of blood on your hands. However, we’re talking about the scum on the bottom.”

“No,” I corrected her. “We’re talking about people. People like Underpants Man, Dropkicker and Sofa Fucker.” I slapped myself in the forehead. “I mean Corny, Irma and Moon.”

“Not to worry, Bitch Goddess Cecily,” Corny assured me. “I quite like Underpants Man.”

“Ditto,” Irma said. “I’m cool with Dropkicker. Nice ring.”

“Couch Fucker is accurate,” Moon announced. “But if I may be so bold as to suggest Sofa Shagger or Sofa Schtupper? The alliteration makes it more memorable.”

Candy deferred to me on that one. The huge grin she was sporting was too much. I flipped her off. She returned the favor. Most people feared the Keeper of Fate.

I adored her.

“Moon, you can choose which one you like best. I think all of them are… umm… graphic.”

“I’m going to tell you something right now,” Cher butted in. “If you legally make that shit your legal name, I’m dropping you as a client. There is no way in hell I’m repping someone named Sofa Shagger.”

Corny raised his hand. “What about Underpants Man?”

“Nope,” Cher informed him. “Corny Crackers is strange enough. I’d rather have my bottom lip pulled over my head than rep a man’s undergarment.”

“I see how that might not appeal,” Corny told her with a thumbs up.

“I think Dropkicker might be better than Irma Stoutwagon.”

That revelation made everyone pause.

“I don’t know about that,” I told her. “Irma Stoutwagon is hard to forget.”

“I agree,” Candy Vargo stated. “It’s badass in a nerdy way. I love it. Irma Fucking Stoutwagon.”

Irma preened under Candy’s praise.

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