My morning visitor

This morning, while I was minding my own business, the Prince of
Darkness came 'round to give me one of his irregular briefings. It looked like
the postman, but I knew it was him because the cream curdled in my coffee when
he came up the walk.

Before he could say anything, I asked, "What the hell did you do to my
hibiscus? The leaves fell off and it looks like a skeleton."

Satan pulled out a cigarette, lit it on his hand and offered it to me.
I took it, of course. I try to get one or two a year. It was nice tobacco;
they have a lot of good things in the underworld. I'll bet the bourbon is
great.

Satan said, "It sure is." Apart from everything else, he reads my mind.
"Why don't you let me set you up with a couple of bottles?" I shook my head,
smiled and sipped my coffee, which had somehow taken on the flavor of sour
mash.

The devil pulled up a stool from nowhere and sat on my front walk. He
touched a rosebush, which suddenly bloomed, then pulled off a bud for his
lapel.

"Nice trick," said I. "If you could sell that, hell would be full in an
hour."

"Hell," he said, "is limitless. Goes on forever, like a bad movie. In
fact, it is a bad movie. With stale popcorn."

I took a pull on my smoke and wondered why I ever quit, even though I
knew. I said, "Listen Chief, you're blocking my view of the neighbor washing his truck.
Did you come for a reason, or are you expecting a meal?"

The dark prince said, "If you want the truth, I came up to ask a favor."

"Me? The devil wants a favor from me-- you've got to be kidding. Hey,
I'm in grad school right now, another of your inventions. You're getting a bit
behind in the favor bank. Besides, what could I do for a guy who can turn
coffee into Old Crow?"

Satan squirmed a bit in his seat, gazed down the boulevard and
whispered, "You can have a talk with your mother."

"My mother's dead. Since March. Besides, I said everything I ever
wanted to her."

Satan pulled out a pack of Luckies, lit one on his palm and said, "Okay,
I can see you're not getting this. We ran into a little problem down there and
I wanted some stroke from you. Hear me out. Your mom went upstairs to the
good place right off, but they didn't like her mouth and gave her a spell
downstairs to shut her up."

"I see where this is going."

Satan sighed. "Right. Now she's making it tough for my people, big
time. God, what a mouth-- I'm losing new hires left and right. Nobody can
work with her. And that look she gives! How the hell did you ever--"

"I left for the Navy when I was seventeen. You don't know the half of
it. She had me ironing shirts when I was seven. And liking it."

The devil smirked. "The worst part of it is, she does really great
work. Place has never looked so good."

I said, "So, how do you like washing windows?"

I thought I heard his teeth grind. "Windows. Yeah, those, and the
bathrooms. Cleaning the tile with a toothbrush."

That made me laugh, just remembering. Old Satan was beginning to slump
in his stool when I offered, "Want a hint? I think I might could help you out
for a consideration."

"Anything at all," said the devil.

"Okay. Go over to the garage and get out one of my old sewing machines.
Try the Singer 201 on the first shelf. Lay that out in front of her along
with some good muslin. She'll have the whole place in new curtains right
away."

"Curtains? This is hell, remember?"

"Well, and it's going to be hell for you unless you keep her busy. Just
get her the machine and some chintz and you're home free. I tell you, it was
the only thing that kept her from killing me."

Satan looked relieved. "And in exchange?"

"Do I get three wishes?"

He nodded.

"Okay. One: Make my niece a little girl forever."

He smiled. "Done. That's easy-- they never really do grow up, you
know."

"Two: Get me an owner's manual for an '85 Honda Nighthawk."

"I think my cousin Vinny has a good copy."

"Great. Now number three: Ask mom what she did with the key to the
mantel clock."

Satan stood up. "That all? No problem. Say, gotta go. No rest for
the Damned, you know." And with that he disappeared in a puff of cigarette
smoke.

I finished my coffee and went inside. I turned on the computer, but
before I could get going I noticed my phone message light was blinking. I hit
the button and heard my mother's voice:

"The key is under the clock, right where it's been for forty years. If
you got up once in a while and picked up after yourself, you'd know these
things. Am I the only one who lifts a finger around this place?"

Then the line went dead.