__
A familiar form was sprawled out on my when I pushed the door open. I stopped in half a step as she looked up and smiled at me, then my brain caught up with itself and I walked in and didn't acknowledge her.
"What, not even a hello?" she asked.
"Hello, succubus."
"Aww, what gave me away?" she asked.
"You're not her," I said, "I knew her. She wouldn't be here, she's still in California, last I knew. And you're still wearing the Green Lantern shirt."
"But you like the shirt," she said.
I chucked the stuff from my pockets into my little stuff crate. "That's not the point. And that's not how it works, either. Besides, if you changed your mind and were trying to tempt me, you picked wrong. It's been a long time since I was in love with her."
"Pfft, love," she said, "Like I care about that? You still lust over her, though."
"Meh," I said, "It's not like I really have a lot of other women to lust over. I've never really found celebrities all that hot. What do you care, anyway?"
"It's my job to care. And you're really bad at lying," she said, and flickered through several other people's bodies, but with the same clothes.
I looked away. Not out of embarrassment or chivalry or disgust or disorientation, I just didn't want to deal with her right now. "Are you quite done?" I asked.
"Are you blushing?" she asked.
"No, I'm annoyed. You're not any of them. Besides, it's not just looks that matter. You're still you, and annoying."
"I'm annoying? Do you realize how annoying it is to put in the kind of work I do, and then have you just ignore it? You're annoying, and in denial."
"Probably," I said, "But I don't know what you're talking about."
She plopped down on the bed, back in her "regular" shape. "Sure you don't. If you don't it's because you don't want to know."
"Probably," I admitted, "But what's your point? Technically, shouldn't annoying you be a good thing, what with you being a demon and all?"
"Some enlightened sensitive guy you are, first you're saying how important looks are, now you're making stereotypes?"
I sat down in my scooty office chair. "If I wanted to deal with baseless insults, I'd go argue with the conservative trolls in an IRC politics channel. Are you just here to complain that I'm too boring and you're not going to make some quota or something? And I'm supposed to care because why? I don't even think you're real."
"You said that last time. I've got no worries on quotas, but sloth is such a bloody boring sin. Would it kill you to actually do something once in a while?"
"You know, that would be a lot more effective and a lot less creepy if it weren't for the implied 'Because then I'll have something interesting to watch.' at the end of that sentence. And I'm not really sure I should be taking advice from a demon anyway. You could easily be lying."
"Devil. And what if out interests match? You'd probably have a lot more fun if you listened to me. And since you've got enough pride to figure you know things better than generations of people before you, there's no reason to worry about getting in trouble, now is there? So, next time, give in to temptation."
"Hang on, wait a second, that argument doesn't make any sense. Just because a lot of people thought something for a long time doesn't make it true. Well, unless this was a fantasy story where belief molds reality, but that's getting off track. Generations of people had slaves, that doesn't make slavery right. And yeah, people in the future will probably look back at us and go "Man, did they really believe those crazy things?" like we do when we look back at ancient Greek myth, but that's not really my problem."
She sat back and blinked at me for a second, then shook her head. "Wow. Can you pick any more irrelevant part of that to fixate on? You completely missed the whole point, which was that you need to go out and get laid."
I shrugged. "Probably. I'm not big on just random sex, though," I said.
"That," she said, holding up a finger, "Is probably because you haven't given it a fair chance."
"Um. Okay. Generalities really don't do much good. If you really wanted to help, you could hang out with me and provide a running translation from Girl for me or something."
"Helping really isn't my line of work."
"Yeah, I kinda figured you'd say something like that. Besides, since you're just a personification of part of my imagination, if you could provide a realtime translation from Girl, I could do it myself."
"There is one thing I can tell you," she said.
"What's that?" I asked.
She was already mostly wreathed in pink smoke. "Girl usually doesn't involve computer programming metaphors."
Vanilla perfume and sulfur are two scents that really do not go well together at all.
Before:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Sacredelicious
A Devil and Mr. Me
"What, not even a hello?" she asked.
"Hello, succubus."
"Aww, what gave me away?" she asked.
"You're not her," I said, "I knew her. She wouldn't be here, she's still in California, last I knew. And you're still wearing the Green Lantern shirt."
"But you like the shirt," she said.
I chucked the stuff from my pockets into my little stuff crate. "That's not the point. And that's not how it works, either. Besides, if you changed your mind and were trying to tempt me, you picked wrong. It's been a long time since I was in love with her."
"Pfft, love," she said, "Like I care about that? You still lust over her, though."
"Meh," I said, "It's not like I really have a lot of other women to lust over. I've never really found celebrities all that hot. What do you care, anyway?"
"It's my job to care. And you're really bad at lying," she said, and flickered through several other people's bodies, but with the same clothes.
I looked away. Not out of embarrassment or chivalry or disgust or disorientation, I just didn't want to deal with her right now. "Are you quite done?" I asked.
"Are you blushing?" she asked.
"No, I'm annoyed. You're not any of them. Besides, it's not just looks that matter. You're still you, and annoying."
"I'm annoying? Do you realize how annoying it is to put in the kind of work I do, and then have you just ignore it? You're annoying, and in denial."
"Probably," I said, "But I don't know what you're talking about."
She plopped down on the bed, back in her "regular" shape. "Sure you don't. If you don't it's because you don't want to know."
"Probably," I admitted, "But what's your point? Technically, shouldn't annoying you be a good thing, what with you being a demon and all?"
"Some enlightened sensitive guy you are, first you're saying how important looks are, now you're making stereotypes?"
I sat down in my scooty office chair. "If I wanted to deal with baseless insults, I'd go argue with the conservative trolls in an IRC politics channel. Are you just here to complain that I'm too boring and you're not going to make some quota or something? And I'm supposed to care because why? I don't even think you're real."
"You said that last time. I've got no worries on quotas, but sloth is such a bloody boring sin. Would it kill you to actually do something once in a while?"
"You know, that would be a lot more effective and a lot less creepy if it weren't for the implied 'Because then I'll have something interesting to watch.' at the end of that sentence. And I'm not really sure I should be taking advice from a demon anyway. You could easily be lying."
"Devil. And what if out interests match? You'd probably have a lot more fun if you listened to me. And since you've got enough pride to figure you know things better than generations of people before you, there's no reason to worry about getting in trouble, now is there? So, next time, give in to temptation."
"Hang on, wait a second, that argument doesn't make any sense. Just because a lot of people thought something for a long time doesn't make it true. Well, unless this was a fantasy story where belief molds reality, but that's getting off track. Generations of people had slaves, that doesn't make slavery right. And yeah, people in the future will probably look back at us and go "Man, did they really believe those crazy things?" like we do when we look back at ancient Greek myth, but that's not really my problem."
She sat back and blinked at me for a second, then shook her head. "Wow. Can you pick any more irrelevant part of that to fixate on? You completely missed the whole point, which was that you need to go out and get laid."
I shrugged. "Probably. I'm not big on just random sex, though," I said.
"That," she said, holding up a finger, "Is probably because you haven't given it a fair chance."
"Um. Okay. Generalities really don't do much good. If you really wanted to help, you could hang out with me and provide a running translation from Girl for me or something."
"Helping really isn't my line of work."
"Yeah, I kinda figured you'd say something like that. Besides, since you're just a personification of part of my imagination, if you could provide a realtime translation from Girl, I could do it myself."
"There is one thing I can tell you," she said.
"What's that?" I asked.
She was already mostly wreathed in pink smoke. "Girl usually doesn't involve computer programming metaphors."
Vanilla perfume and sulfur are two scents that really do not go well together at all.
Before:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Sacredelicious
A Devil and Mr. Me