Can you stand another tale of Joe and Charlie, the two slightly inept demon's? I just can't help myself sometimes
Linked up with Coldly Calculating at Our Write Side
“Where we going Joe?”
“Home Charlie, the Boss finally got us outta that witches nest, and I need a break.”
“So…what're we doing in limbo land?”
“What? What are you talking about”? Joe looked around. His partner was right, the land was hazy and soft, no recognizable landmarks. “Oh man. This just isn’t right.”
“You're tellin’ me! I didn’t like this place the first time, it ain't got no better.” Charlie stumbled over a step hidden in the gray swirl that flowed through the landscape in random patterns.
Joe tried to remember the first time he was stuck here. It had taken forever to get out. As his memories coalesced, his eyes widened. “Charlie, you remember where we came in?”
“No, I’m just lookin’ for a way out.”
“Don't look too hard Charlie,” Joe backed up, he peered through the fog looking for the door he’d just entered.
“Uh, why?” Charlie stopped exploring and edged closer to Joe.
“Do you remember what happened when you found your way ‘out’ the first time?”
“Um, let me see, I found a key somewheres, then tripped a dozen times on all this crap laying around. Busted my snout more than once.” Charlie had a bad habit of reliving his memories while he talked, “Ow! Dammit! Just like that,” he said as he pushed himself off the ground.
“Hey! Look Joe, I found the key!”
“No Charlie! Throw it away! We don’t want the key!”
“What?”
Before Joe could grab the key and throw it, a doorway gleamed red-gold two yards from them. “Oh no.”
“There Joe, just like last time, the way out!”
Joe rolled his eyes, “Charlie, that’s not the way out.”
“It’s not?”
Joe walked toward the door, resigned to the inevitable. The Boss was evidently still mad at them.
“No Charlie, it’s the way in. This is limbo?”
“Yeahhh…”
Joe just sighed.
“Oh. OH!, Joe I don’t wanna!” Charlie wailed.
Joe grabbed Charlie's arm and pulled him forward. “C’mon. No going back, which one’s next? Do you remember? Lust or gluttony?”
Although I'm in the middle of the chaos that is Nanowrimo, I couldn't resist revisiting Joe and Charlie. I hope Amanda doesn't roll her eyes too much as I used her prompt "fifteen minutes of fame" from Coldly Calculating over at Our Write Side.
Lily had several jobs for her enthralled demons. Joe and Charlie were starting to get desperate to escape.
“How’re we gonna get outta this, Joe?”
“Shut up! Let me think.”
“You been thinkin’ for weeks.”
“You been whinin’ for weeks!”
Charlie sighed heavily, “I don’t know how much more I can take, Joe.”
“I know, Charlie, I know. Ill figure it out, I promise.”
That evening Lily summoned them for another of her little tasks, as she called them. She gleefully spelled out the directions for this latest adventure then stood grinning as the star stud in her nose whirled wildly.
“You want us to rob a bank?!? Joe was incredulous.
Charlie was merely mortified, “No no no, this is not happening, it’s a dream. A very bad dream.”
“Yes, I want you to rob a bank.” Lily giggled. “And you'll do it, not like you have a choice or anything,”
Charlie continued to mumble, “Oh man oh man. This is so embarrassing.”
“Come along, pets, to the pentagram, I need to get you delivered.”
Several candles and an incantation later, the two found themselves materializing in the empty lobby of a nearby bank.
“Why didn’t she just put us in the vault, now we have to blast it open before we can get ‘poofed’ back to prison.” Another heavy sigh and slump of shoulder and Charlie headed toward the vault, tail dragging behind.
“Charlie, hold up!”
“What Joe? I just wanna get this ov…”
“No! I got it? Look up there Charlie.”
“What? Where?”
“Up there, security cameras!”
Charlie gave Joe a sidelong glance. “We don’t show up on tape, Joe.” Charlie shook his head, he’d never expected Joe to lose it first.
“We don’t, but dancing money bags will.” Joe rubbed his clawed hands together in anticipation.
“I still don’t get how that’ll help us.”
“”Think Charlie. Bank gets ripped off. Big headline. How long before someone leaks freaky security footage to the Internet and we get our fifteen minutes of fame?”
“So dancing money ends up on the webz.”
“Remember that time He locked us in that dressing room mirror for doing the macarena at Wally’s?” Joe grinned.
“Oh man! Don’t remind me, my eyes still burn.”
“Well, we’re gonna macarena hundred dollar bills all over the lobby!”
*****
Three weeks later in an opulent office, a minion interrupts his employers latest deal.
“Hey, boss?”
“Really? I’m kinda busy here, Dood.”
“I know boss, but I think you wanna see this. For real.”
“Alright, be right there.” Laying aside his golden pen, he cast a stern look at his guest, “Don’t go anywhere Donald, I’ll be right back.” He turned back to Dood, “This better be worth my time or you'll be the star of next years haunted playhouse.”
His flunky pointed to a wall of screens. Each one showed a grainy video being played on assorted venues. The leaked footage was trending on twitter. It had a Facebook fan page. It was the number one hit for Google searches of banks, hauntings, or the macarena. The news channels played it over and over.
“I think it’s them boss. But it don’t tell us where they went.”
He watched the assorted screens for several minutes before pointing at one slightly better image, “Zoom in on that one.” Leaning closer he ordered the footage stopped. “Right there. Get my coat, tell Mr. T. It’s his lucky day, I’ll catch up with him later.”
“What’d ya see boss?”
“The middle dancer, it was a peace lily.”
This little bit of whimsy was prompted by the Coldly Calculating prompt at Our Write Side.
I really enjoy the choices they offer!
After their near damnation experience in the last house they’d infested, Joe and Charlie were relaxing in dubious comfort in a cluttered attic.
“Joe, what you want to do next? Scratching inside the walls or opening all the cabinet doors?”
“I wanna take a break, Charlie. We got plenty of time.”
“I’m bored Joe.”
“Jeez Charlie. Let me catch my breath.” Joe sighed deeply. “By the way, dude, you still stink of sweet grass.”
“I do not!” Charlie sniffed his arm and down the length of his tail. “Well, maybe that witch singed my tail fork when she shoved that burning bundle up the chimney after me.”
Ignoring Charlie, Joe started poking through one of the many boxes and suitcases stashed around the cramped space. Pawing through one lightly damaged trunk, he pulled out a shiny black cape.
“Look, Charlie. Halloween costumes.” Charlie joined him, grabbing a piece of fabric
“Wow, Joe! We can use these to scare the you know who outta the family here!” Charlie draped a yellowed toga over his head. “Booooo!”
“Look what you did! You snagged it on your horns, man.” Joe grabbed garment and threw it on the growing pile of clothing. “You need to take better care those, you don’t want to end up with a hang-horn.”
“Yeah, yeah, I could polish ‘em too.” Charlie stuck his head back into the nearly empty trunk. “Hey, what’s that?” Charlie reached for a small leather covered case at the bottom.
Joe slapped his hand, “Gimme that. I was here first.”Joe lifted the lid, the rusty hinges on the side protested only mildly. A rectangle of black velvet covered the contents. Joe unceremoniously brushed it aside.
“Augh!” Joe dropped the case and contents back to the bottom of the trunk.
“What man! What’s wrong.” Charlie peeked over the edge, “Holy Hell!” eyes wide, he scuttled backwards. At the bottom of the trunk, a silver handled athame lay haphazardly atop its case.
“Of all places, we wander into a nest of Wiccans.” Joe started to pace, “We need to get outta here, they figure out we’re here and who knows what kind of three ring circus they'll stir up.”
“Joe, calm down, if they was practicing, this stuff wouldn’t be up here, now would it?” Charlie looked nervously over his shoulder despite his words.
“Okay, yeah, you're probably right. They wouldn’t put something like that up here.” Joe closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to pull himself together. “We should move on anyway. Who knows what other…”
“Too late, boys.” The voice emanated form a dark shadow at the top of the attic stairs. “However you're right about the athame, there are no Wiccans practicing here. At least, not anymore. Their toys do come in handy though.” The speaker stepped forward revealing a teen-aged girl in full goth regalia.
“It’s a great early warning system, and…led you right into our trap.” As she spoke the girl bent and poured salt before her feet.
“Trap? What trap?” Joe had been taking the measure of the youngster and was building energy for a powerful demonic counter attack.
“Look around silly. You were so interested in rummaging through the garbage you missed the pentagram.” She grinned in delight. “And I just closed it.”
Joe barely heard as he loosed a fireball. Which immediately bounced back. Charlie yelled as he ducked the blazing missile. “OhmySatanohmySatanohmySatan!”
Joe drooped, out of the frying pan into hell. “So, what now?”
“Glad you asked,” she said brightly, “I’m Lily by the way. My friends and I have a job for you. It needs done tonight, so enough with chit-chat, come along now.”
“Tonight? How did you know you'd catch a demon tonight?”
“Sillies. Who do you think called that ghost hunter to the last house.” She skipped out of the room, Joe and Charlie dragged along by her spell. “And one of you stinks.”
Charlie muttered, “I do not.”
