Satan's Christmas

Something I wrote for (and posted on) my facebook account a while back for one of those text post things as a prompt. Just postin' it as a howdy-do I guess but let me know what y'all think. I may or may not write a second bit eventually, as it has been requested by a friend of mine.

Chapter 1

Satan's Christmas

Our story begins, at least what we know of it, with a phone call from the big man himself-- Santa Clause, as some call him. As it went every year just before the christmas season, he was more angry than he was willing to admit.

"I May not be old as you, Lucifer, but rest assured that I can handle a few spelling mistakes," He said curtly. The man in question, Lucifer, chuckled and propped his feet up on the desk, twirling the phone cord around his finger as he spoke. His smug grin seeped clearly through his voice.

"They said 'Satan', not 'Santa'," He pointed out. "They're mine. F_____k off, I'm doing it whether you help me or not," He pulled the phone away slightly to cover his mouth and stifle the laughter threatening to erupt.

"This isn't your holiday. You have your place, and I have mine," Santa growled, now clearly keeping a temper in check. Satan snorted. Nobody could get a rise out of the 'jolly' immortal man like he could.

"Yeah? Well tell that to..." He paused to pick up a letter with Satan scrawled across the front in bright red letters, "...Jay O'Connor. He didn't ask for Santa, he asked for Satan," He sneered. "So give me the fuckin' list. That's me, Not you," He said tersely. There was a very long pause, and Lucifer could practically hear the cogs turning in the man's head. He snickered.

"Fine. Come and get it," He growled and the line ended with an abrupt click. Lucifer laughed uproarously and carelessly tossed the phone back onto the reciever. It never got old, no matter how many years it happened. Every year was the same conversation, and every year he won.

"Keynai!!" He shouted abruptly, grinning. "Get my car! I'm going to the north pole!" He heard a collective sigh and laughed again. The more frustrated it made people the more he enjoyed it.

"What? Don't look at me like that. I may be the devil but I take this seriously. People who ask a favor from The King of Hell get what they ask for..." He said brightly. His secretary, Keynai, looked over his glasses critically and tapped one cloved hoof in annoyance.

"These are just children, Lucifer. You've no right to take their souls when they have no real knowledge of who they're asking," he said seriously, tapping a large book he was carying. "You know the rules," He said skeptically.

"I wrote the rules, you pesky satyr. Don't try to tell me what to do," He growled, eyes flashing. Keynai narrowed his eyes slightly and bobbed his head to show his subservient understanding. Lucifer grinned and leaned against the door.

"Is my ride ready?" He asked. The shorter man nodded curtly.

"Of course, Majesty," he said, bowing low and gesturing with a flourish down the hall. Lucifer grinned and patted him on the head as he passed.

"Good boy," He said brightly. "Time to go piss off the jolly man," He giggled. His secretary shook his head but smiled slightly at his king's antics.

"Every year, and it never gets old..." He muttered under his breath as the growling roar of the three headed dogs that lead Lucifer's car roared in the distance.


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