Exquisite Corpse: "Get Off My Farm, Punk!” - Chapter 8C

Hello and welcome to part 8C (10) of the "Get Off My Farm Punk" Exquisite Corpse, started by @blockurator. This is the final installment of the story! However, there is a brief epilogue coming down the pike in the coming week, which will cast the princess's actions in a somewhat different light. So I'm not quite done writing this ending yet...

Here are parts 1 through 8B(9), followed by my entry for today, part 8C(10). Enjoy!

Chapter 1 by @blockurator
https://steemit.com/fiction/@blockurator/exquisite-corpse-2-get-off-my-farm-punk-a72c9a1a217a2est

Chapter 2 by @sarez
https://steemit.com/fiction/@sarez/get-off-my-farm-punk-part-2-serial-short-story

Chapter 3 by @quillfire
https://steemit.com/writing/@quillfire/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-3-the-genre-shakespeare-refused-to-write

Chapter 4 by @ireenchew
https://steemit.com/steemitbloggers/@ireenchew/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-four-4f2f1c1f17815est

Chapter 5 by @fromage
https://steemit.com/fiction/@fromage/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-five

Chapter 6 by @dranuvar
https://steemit.com/writing/@dranuvar/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-six

Chapter 7 by @blueteddy
https://steemit.com/fiction/@blueteddy/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-seven

Chapter 8 by yours truly
https://steemit.com/fiction/@bennettitalia/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-eight

Chapter 8B by me as well
https://steemit.com/fiction/@bennettitalia/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-8b

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Here is where Part 8B ended:

The demon looked startled again, then laughed. "Asmodeus!" he chortled. "Hey everyone, this luscious morsel of a human girl is asking to speak with Asmodeus!!!"

Peals of demonic laughter echoed from every direction, as the demon threw his celery soda into the air and fell to the ground, overcome by paroxysms of mirth.

A female demon appeared, holding her stomach, her eyes brimming over with tears as she fought valiantly to control her amusement. She looked at the four of them, two bemused humans and two has-been gods, and doubled over with laughter, pointing at them with one clawed finger. "You... your faces...", she gasped, "Hah, heh hunh..."

"What in Heaven could possibly be so funny about the word 'Asmodeus'?" Clarissa demanded, beginning to lose her temper.

At the word 'Heaven', all the demons seemed to sober up somewhat, though snickers and chortles and the occasional peal of hysterical laughter could still be heard at odd intervals. The female demon straightened up and looked them over once more, her lips quirking with suppressed laughter. "Asmodeus is SO five minutes ago", she sniped. Then she looked pensive. "Or maybe a couple thousand years, I'm not sure. Time is hard to quantify here. Come with me, I'll take you where you want to go".

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They followed the demoness into the fiery maelstrom, stepping carefully to avoid hillocks of smoldering ash, flaming patches of kerosine, creeping rivulets of molten lava, and what looked (and smelled) like steaming puddles of toxic waste. Despite her wicked looking horns and barbed tail, the creature had seemed at first glance to be dressed respectably, in a smart business suit and sensible heels, with carefully coiffed hair and distinguished looking glasses, but from behind it became obvious that her skirt was dangerously short. Fromage and Quetzal wore dazed expressions, and seemed to be having a difficult time focusing on walking, but Cihua pretended not to notice. Clarissa, however, raised her eyebrows, and kept them raised for the duration of the walk. How long it actually took to arrive at their destination was impossible to determine; it could have been minutes, or hours, or years. The demoness had a point: time in the infernal regions was all but impossible to track.

But arrive they did, at last (or maybe immediately), at a monolithic Late Gothic style archway, cut into the living rock, which opened into a gargantuan cavern. A painfully hot, bored looking demoness lounged on the monolithic throne that was the focal point of the room, surrounded by an impressive, though motley, entourage of demons. She wore a bikini, jellies, and a diamond encrusted filigree tiara, which was perched neatly between the two cute little horns on the top of her head.

Their guide stopped abruptly a few yards short of the entrance, bent her knees slightly, cupped her hands to her mouth, and bellowed: "A couple has-been Aztec gods and a mealy-mouthed human or two here to bore the pants off you, your majesty!" Then she straightened up and cocked her head to the side, doing a double take. "Wait. Too late, you're not wearing pants."

The woman on the throne eyed the newcomers unenthusiastically, nodded, and looked away.

"Good luck", the demoness in the revealing business suit stage whispered at them gleefully. Then she turned and skipped away into the inferno.

Quetzalcoatl exchanged a glance with Cihuacoatl, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Then he squared his shoulders and strode into the room, making directly for the haughty princess on her colossal chair, and glaring around at the faces of the assembled dignitaries as if he owned the place.

Several oversized male demons, impossibly muscled and tattooed, stood close to the throne, likely either bodyguards or sex slaves or both. These averted their eyes and shifted uncomfortably in place as Quetzal approached.

An emaciated zombie demon with a chain around his neck began to twitch spasmodically, then stopped at a warning look from the tiny bespectacled fellow who sat on his shoulder, holding the other end of the chain.

An aging demon who wore the unctuous expression of a career sycophant, along with a chartreuse velour leisure suit and toupee, emerged from behind the throne and trotted toward Quetzal as if to greet him. Halfway there he seemed to think better of it, stopped and looked around at the assembly as if he'd no idea how he got there, and vanished with an audible popping sound, leaving behind a small sulphurous cloud.

A square faced demon in a business suit put down the briefcase he was carrying, pulled a cell phone from his pocket, stabbed and swiped at the screen a couple of times with one finger, and then held it up in front of him, aimed at Quetzal, as if to record the proceedings in case of future legal disputes.

A plump, stern looking demoness, who was dressed as a nun and carrying an AK-47, whispered "Who does he think he is?" to the cybernetically enhanced schoolgirl demoness with glowing white hot eyes standing next to her, who shrugged.

Another demoness, naked, crouched on all fours, wearing a dog collar and a leash, whimpered audibly, as her eyes followed the Aztec god from behind the curtain of her hair with an expression of mixed fear and hunger.

A mysterious angelic figure stood behind her, holding the other end of the leash, a halo of darkness wreathing his pale brow, his great wings the luscious oily black of a raven's, his features as luminously, ethereally beautiful as any dream of Heaven. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, his eyes following Quetzal's progress with interest.

Two diminutive demons, one male and one female, were chained to the base of the massive throne. They resembled small children, but wore expressions that were anything but childlike, and at Quetzal's approach they bared rows of long, wicked looking pointed teeth, and began to growl and snap like wolves, pulling at their chains as they leapt at him again and again, until the princess looked down at them affectionately and murmured "Be still Hansel, Gretel".

Quetzal stood beneath the throne, staring daggers at its occupant, the flames from his eyes slithering over his forehead and rising as smoke to mingle with the brimstone of Hell. "Where is Asmodeus?" He boomed.

The princess glanced up as if only just noticing him. "Oh, hello", she said graciously, "Welcome to my domain. Would you like to sample any of the pleasures Hell has to offer?" She waved one hand carelessly at the flaming carnage all around them.

Quetzal shook his head. "I think not", he replied. "We come on business. We seek an audience with your master."

The princess straightened up, looking startled. Then she threw her head back and laughed, doubling over in her seat and rolling around in an agony of amusement, until it looked as if she might actually fall off of the throne. After a few moments of this the assembled demons began to join in, the cacophony of their laughter echoing menacingly around the cavernous chamber. Then, abruptly, the princess sobered up, wiping tears of blood from her eyes as she returned her attention to Quetzal. "Asmo", she gasped, slapping a hand to her mouth to stifle another round of laughter, "Asmo is indisposed at the moment. Which is to say forever. As is his successor, Beelzebub Jr. And And Lil' Joey III, Eater of Worlds. And also Mephistopheles." She shook her head. "The truth is, there have been too many. I've lost track of them all. Not that I care..."

Quetzalcoatl opened his mouth and closed it again. He swallowed. "So... Asmodeus has been fired?"

The princess shrugged. "You can say it that way if it makes you feel better", she replied languidly. It's a cutthroat lifestyle, most demons aren't cut out for it. Of course for me it's a cakewalk. Throat cutting is kinda my thing. Well... one of my things."

Quetzal cleared his throat. "I see. Then I suppose that makes you the current ruler of Hell?"

She smiled back at him kindly, as one would smile at a small, timid child. "Yes, my dear. It would. I am the Demon Princess Tiffany, Umpteenth Ruler of the Infernal Regions and Chief Torturer of the Damned. Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Quetzalcoatl."

Quetzal nodded formally, "And I yours, your Majesty. These are my companions, the great goddess Cihuacoatl, Fromage of the human realm, and Miss Clarissa Lightwood, whose brother Ebenezer has taken up residence in your domain, I believe."

"Taken up residence!" Clarissa hissed between clenched teeth. "He was kidnapped!"

Princess Tiffany raised her eyebrows and beckoned the others forward. "Welcome, companions of Quetzalcoatl. You may approach the throne."

Cihuacoatl nodded and walked slowly to the center of the room to stand by Quetzal, never taking her eyes from the princess's. Fromage and Clarissa glanced at each other, then followed. When all four were gathered before her, the Princess Tiffany addressed them: "Why do you seek an audience with me?" she asked.

"We've come to request your help", replied Quetzal. "We seek to open The Forbidden Portal in order to return our pantheon to its former glory. To do so would wreak havoc with the very fabric of space-time, and open up some potentially profitable avenues of exploration for the infernal kingdoms."

"We have brought you this girl to offer in trade!" Cihua cut in suddenly, seeing the look of disdain on Princess Tiffany's pretty face. She shoved Clarissa forward violently, so that she stumbled and almost fell. Quetzal gasped, and Fromage rushed forward to steady her.

The princess looked thoughtful. "You would offer me a mortal lovelier even than myself, and infinitely more innocent, to do with as I please? Hmmmnnnn... Imagine the possibilities. Heather, wouldn't it be lovely to disfigure this stunning specimen, slowly, over the course of an eternity, so that she became progressively more repulsive in appearance?"

A handsome and muscular male demon, wearing makeup, a ballgown, and six inch heels, nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes", he said, in a rich, deep baritone. "Delightful."

The princess sighed. "Ah, but her flawless soul would show through and ruin it. No, there are rules governing who may or may not take up residence in Hell..."

"And do not those rules", Clarissa interrupted, "Preclude the kidnapping of innocent young men? My brother was little more than a child when you stole him from us. I am not here on behalf of these others. I've come to bring my brother back!"

Tiffany smiled at her indulgently. "My", she purred, "You truly are a winsome creature. What makes you think any of you are going anywhere?"

"We will go back", Clarissa asserted, the resolve in her voice ringing clear in the great hall. "And we're bringing Ebenezer with us."

"If you won't take the mortal", Cihua cut in softly, "then what can we offer you? Gold?"

Tiffany snorted derisively. "Gold!" she spat. "A useless metal. We're lousy with the stuff down here. Platinum too. And diamonds and emeralds and rubies and all the rest. Maybe if you had something of real value to offer... crypto, perhaps? Steem? Bitcoin? Or better yet, BCH! My absolute favorite. ABC or SV, either one. They're both so deliciously evil!"

Quetzalcoatl and Cihuacoatl exchanged glances. "We don't know what you're talking about", Quetzal replied.

"I have some", Fromage put in, "But nowhere near as much as you'd want I'm afraid".

The princess sighed. "I didn't think so", she said. "Never mind. I wouldn't have helped you with your little portal scheme anyway. It isn't in my best interest to return the world to its former state. Business is just too good these days. But I do have a counter offer: I know of a place where you, Quetzal, and you, Cihua, can be gods again. Worshipped by billions. With sacrifices and tributes galore, and all the limelight you can possibly stand. Your narcissistic supply will be replenished, brimming over in fact, and you will taste blood and power again, and revel in them both. As for Miss Lightwood, she will have endless chances to play the pure hearted and insufferably innocent heroine that she has become so comfortable with, and to be adored and rewarded for it. Fromage will be free to write to his heart's content, and be remunerated handsomely for it. Enough to retain a fleet of lawyers, working day and night to ensure that he isn't successfully sued by Mr. Pratchett, or Mr. King, or any of the others. I'll even throw Ebenezer Lightwood into the bargain, for good measure. He will be happy in this place too. He can go on bender after bender if he so chooses, ad infinitum. His bad boy antics are guaranteed to bring him all of the attention, both positive and negative, that he so obviously craves."

"What is the name of this place?" Quetzal demanded. "If we accept your offer, how are we to know it isn't a trap?"

The princess favored him with a genuine smile, her eyes wide and innocent. "Do you think even I, ruler of the infernal kingdoms, would risk offending the great Quetzalcoatl?" she asked. "Trust me. I know your stock in trade, serpent. Forbidden apples. The blood of virgins. Hoards of gold. The niceties of civilization. You will love this place."

"Those are pretty words, demoness", Quetzal replied, "But you haven't answered my question. What is its name?"

The Princess Tiffany grinned at him, eyes twinkling.

"Hollywood."

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©2018 Bennett Italia, all rights reserved.

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