Little Lord Lucifer

Little Lord Lucifer had just received a consignment of Gays. He led them to the Great Hall and left them alone in case they wanted to kiss each other, so when a consignment of Jews arrived an hour later he had nowhere to put them. "Oh, fizzle and poop," he cursed to himself, and put on his horns to go and greet them. He asked the cooks to prepare lox and bagels, which Jews particularly like, and took them outside. They looked tired from their journey so he showed them where the deckchairs were and invited them to sit in the shade of the trees, since the sun was a little hot at that time of day. Then he went back to attend to the Gays.

In the Great Hall the servants were roasting a pig. Gays were not as fussy about their food as Jews but some of them wouldn't eat meat, so on the way Lucifer picked some salad vegetables from the kitchen garden. He was a little embarrassed about asking them to prepare their own meal on their first day but the staff were all very busy.

When the Gays had eaten as much as they wanted, Lucifer stood up to make a speech. He had it off by heart, sometimes he made it several times a day, but he felt it was important to welcome everybody in person.

"I expect you're wondering where you are," he began. "Well, this is Hell and you'll be here for eternity."

As he expected, there was uproar. He held up his hand for silence.

"I don't know where you were expecting to go, but you wouldn't have enjoyed it in the Other Place, trust me. Now, before you ask, we don't set fire to people here. We only light fires to keep warm in the winter or for cooking. I know you've probably been told otherwise, and I expect you've been misled about a lot of other things too, but if you feel you ought to be burned you'll have to make your own arrangements. It isn't part of the service we provide."

Little Lord Lucifer paused for a sip of water. As usual his speech was proving hard for his audience to digest. On the one hand they were going to spend eternity in Hell, and from everything they’d heard that must surely be a bad thing. On the other hand they had been well treated so far and Lucifer had just promised not to burn them. But could they trust his word? If they were in Hell then Lucifer must be the Devil, although his horns looked as if they’d been hired from a stag night costume shop. They were thoroughly confused.

*****

Lord ‘Baby’ Jesus was discussing strategy with one of his top-ranking officers. In life, Field Marshal Pius had been a Pope. He had always thought of himself as a metaphorical soldier of the Lord and now he was a literal one. Even at this distance from the battle he could hear the whine of shells and feel the ground shake as they exploded. He clutched his rosary beads for comfort. Thank heavens the Lord was on his side or, more properly, he was on the Lord’s side. He would have to get used to that idea: he was accustomed to interpreting the Lord’s will himself and didn’t feel entirely comfortable with having the Lord close by to make it clear what his will actually was. But together they would surely prevail. How could it be otherwise?

Above the noise of battle Pius could hear a convoy of trucks passing, either returning repaired soldiers to the front or bringing in the latest batch of new recruits. There was never any shortage of soldiers: in Heaven nobody died, although it could take a long time to gather all the parts and reassemble them. He dreaded being blasted to pieces himself, by all accounts the pain was excruciating, but he knew the cause was just. Heresy must be stamped out at all costs. Only when the Protestants had surrendered and converted to the One True Faith could there be peace in Heaven.

Lord Jesus dismissed him. “Have courage,” he counselled, “and always remember that I am on your side.”

When he was alone, Jesus rubbed his hands in glee. “I am on your side,” he sneered to himself. He’d said exactly the same thing to the Protestants that very morning. How he hated religious nuts. “Get out there," he wished he could say, "and give the bastards - heaven!"