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Judge Satan - a short story

 
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 9328398
United States
01/10/2019 11:37 PM
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Judge Satan - a short story
Judge Satan
By Bill Fountain


I was frantically recalling as many memories as I could from my lifetime on Earth. Was I a good person?

I was in Hell, but not necessarily staying. My afterlife lawyer walked me into a small room with a blatant look of disappointment on his face. There was something about him that terrified me.

"Is your last name pronounced Lah-mew or Lee-max?" my lawyer asked me after we both were seated.

"The first way is correct- LeMieux," I responded.

"Listen, Dr. Sarcastica I don't need any of your shit. You were a twisted, fucked-up soul- I know it, you know it. Judge Satan knows it. But we have one thing going for us," the man said sternly. I listened on, my reminiscing mind still racing. "Summer of 2008. You were in the middle of a traffic congestion coming up on an intersection. There were several cars from a side shopping complex waiting to turn into the main road. You let not one, not two, not even three- but you, Jason Sarcastica, let four cars in. This, in my opinion, makes you a hero."

I tried to remember just what in Hell he was talking about. Nothing was clicking- it didn't seem like something I would do.

At that moment, a knock came at the door and an angel peeked its heavenly head through. "Mr. Leemax? Satan will see you now," the angel said.

"He's an angel, how does he not know how to say my name?" I asked my lawyer.

"Believe it or not Leemax, angels are busy. They have a lot of angel stuff to do; now let's go in," the lawyer replied.

We walked into the rattiest courtroom I'd ever seen, yet had the highest ceilings and the largest podium. It was candlelit with broken windows throughout the moldy wooden foundation, and mysteriously reeked of a marijuana-type aroma. I noticed both demon and angels alike in bleachers, yet no other humans. He guided me up to the front desk and we took a seat. I gazed over at the opposite side where my supposed prosecutor shuffled papers.

A dark, purple creature resembling Gollum emerged from the behind the panel and he announced to the room to all rise to which we all subserviently responded. The ground began shaking as loud stomps came from behind the judge's podium. The ambiance in the entire room became a vivacious red as a twenty-foot figure broke through the front wall, taking a seat in his massive throne. He put on a pair of comically large, thick reading glasses and began sorting through documents.

"Let's see, Mr. Leh.... lee... Nope. What do we got here- real estate agent, paid his taxes, didn't urinate in the shower," Satan removed his reading glasses and continued, looking toward me, "yeah, he wouldn't fit in here. Angels- send him in to Heaven. Tell JC he still owes me five bucks! I told him Luke Cage would never last and he's been dodging my ass."

"Hold on just one second," my would-be prosecutor belted out, rising from his chair. "This man is responsible for putting over thirty different families in poverty due to his manipulative and deceitful tactics in real estate! He also would masturbate to softcore candid porn. Fucking weirdo, right? This guy has Hell written all over his Dr. Sarcastic ass."

Satan sighed with audible disgust. "Okay, fine. And what does the defense got? Someone said something about him not peeing in bathtubs, I believe? That's pretty goddamn impressive if you ask me, but what does the defense got?"

My lawyer approached a TV monitor that was strapped to a cart like it had been wheeled into third grade. A movie came on showing me in my Toyota Camry with a cheesy grin on my face as I sat in traffic. The video played out, and given there was no doctoring done to this video, my lawyer was right about me letting four people in. The video cut to a person parking their car, and immediately pull out their cell phone and call somebody.

"Dude, you'll never believe what just happened!" the man enthusiastically shouted into his phone. "Some hero just let four cars in during traffic. It was the most inspiring thing I've ever seen in my life," the man on the TV screen said. It cut to another guy, who was sitting next to an older man. The new character explained to his father about my good deed. Then the video cut to the old man tearing up a document to which my lawyer pressed a button on a remote to pause the video.

"This man was an important politician who was going to sign a bill that would allow the FDA to turn their backs on carcinogenic chemicals being used in processed foods! Though the prosecution makes a solid argument of my client's annoying sarcasm, Mr. Leemax's good deed led to thousands- maybe even millions of people being saved!

Satan spoke up. "Wow, that's unprecedented beauty, is it not Juror 4?" He said directing his question toward the jury of demons. They all looked confusingly at each other, one putting his hand on his chest questioningly before Satan interrupted. "That's right, Juror 4 seems to agree. Alright we shall now have the jury vote."

The demons took four seconds before returning into the courtroom.

"Have the jurors reached a unanimous decision?" Satan questioned.

Juror #4 approached the podium, handed Satan a paper and said, "yes."

Satan looked at the rest of the jury. "I think- no I think you're all supposed to say it at once. Are you all umannimous?" Satan butchered.

"Yes," they replied in unison.

Satan unfolded the document and placed his comical reading glasses on.

Satan shed a tear, as he chokingly let out his cries of triumphant joy. "Mr. Leemax shall be sent to Heaven as a new angel. We won't get to have him here in Hell to suck our resources dry; how fucking sad," Satan grabbed the gavel and smashed it onto the podium. "Court adjourned!"
Animol

User ID: 74791841
Germany
01/10/2019 11:51 PM

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Re: Judge Satan - a short story
bump
Normal is good
Anonymous Coward (OP)
User ID: 9328398
United States
01/11/2019 01:17 PM
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Re: Judge Satan - a short story
I was meaning to write a story about an overcrowded Hell, and it turned into a metaphor for America's immigration crisis.