Post by Afgncaap5 on Feb 9, 2005 20:56:47 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]The Scenario:[/glow]
Pitch was in misery.
Ever since he lost the battle against the Hobgoblins to keep his job as Lucifer's Prankster In Chief, he'd been assigned desk duty.
And the one task that always seemed the most unbearable was that of explaining just why certain people couldn't get their souls back.
Normally a simple "Sir, we delivered the candy bar fair and square," or a "Ma'am, the box was clearly marked as being 'Sinfully Delicious', so we aren't liable" would do the trick. But occasionally, a simple explanation just wouldn't suffice. And once in a blue moon, the people who wanted their souls back were still powerfull enough to inflict their own brand of pain on him should they not like the answer.
"Look," said Melissa Strickland, "I won my soul back, and my boyfriend didn't even consult with me if it was alright if he got me roped back into this mess of being a witch. You've got no claim on my soul. Now, hand it back before I turn you into a newt!"
"Well, the thing is," Pitch said before being interrupted.
"And what about me?" demanded Tandra, former priestess of the vampires. "After Samson torched the head vampire I should have been set free! I never even wanted to be a vampire in the first place, and now I'm stuck in the inner circles? I'm sorry, but this is all the fault of those bungling vampire hench-goons. I demand my soul back!"
"Well, the this is," Pitch said again, cowering behind his desk as Tandra and Melissa loomed over him, "while I've checked for every loophole possible and still can't find any reason to hold onto your souls, I'm afraid that I have a quota. I'm only allowed to hand back souls once every two centuries. One of you can have your soul back, the other will just have to wait."
"I need that soul!" Melissa shouted. "In 200 years, the acorn farm will be bankrupt without my help! Do you know how hard it is to run one of those?"
"YOU need the soul?" Tandra countered. "I have an entire castle to clean when I get back! Besides, do you know the property taxes I'm going to have to deal with? I need to start working now if I'm ever going to have a prayer of getting those paid off!"
"Give the soul to that vampire and I'll set your blood on fire!"
"Give the soul to that witch and I'll see to it that you never have blood again, flammable or not!"
"WE CAN FORCE-FEED YOU ICECREAM!" they both shouted in unison.
Cowering, Pitch's mind raced. He had to give the soul to one of them....but which one? How to decide?
Much later,....
"Ladies and gentlemen," Pitch shouted to the assembled in the arena. "Boys and girls of all the circles of Hell, Tartarus, and all the other respective uncomfortable parts of the land of the dead, I give you the first ever Battle Of Soul Reclamantion! The contestants are Melissa the Witch, and Tandra the Vampire! The first one to render the other one unconcious shall return to the surface world with their soul intact, while the other is sent to a cage far, far away from me for the next two centuries. Ready? FIGHT!"
Pitch was in misery.
Ever since he lost the battle against the Hobgoblins to keep his job as Lucifer's Prankster In Chief, he'd been assigned desk duty.
And the one task that always seemed the most unbearable was that of explaining just why certain people couldn't get their souls back.
Normally a simple "Sir, we delivered the candy bar fair and square," or a "Ma'am, the box was clearly marked as being 'Sinfully Delicious', so we aren't liable" would do the trick. But occasionally, a simple explanation just wouldn't suffice. And once in a blue moon, the people who wanted their souls back were still powerfull enough to inflict their own brand of pain on him should they not like the answer.
"Look," said Melissa Strickland, "I won my soul back, and my boyfriend didn't even consult with me if it was alright if he got me roped back into this mess of being a witch. You've got no claim on my soul. Now, hand it back before I turn you into a newt!"
"Well, the thing is," Pitch said before being interrupted.
"And what about me?" demanded Tandra, former priestess of the vampires. "After Samson torched the head vampire I should have been set free! I never even wanted to be a vampire in the first place, and now I'm stuck in the inner circles? I'm sorry, but this is all the fault of those bungling vampire hench-goons. I demand my soul back!"
"Well, the this is," Pitch said again, cowering behind his desk as Tandra and Melissa loomed over him, "while I've checked for every loophole possible and still can't find any reason to hold onto your souls, I'm afraid that I have a quota. I'm only allowed to hand back souls once every two centuries. One of you can have your soul back, the other will just have to wait."
"I need that soul!" Melissa shouted. "In 200 years, the acorn farm will be bankrupt without my help! Do you know how hard it is to run one of those?"
"YOU need the soul?" Tandra countered. "I have an entire castle to clean when I get back! Besides, do you know the property taxes I'm going to have to deal with? I need to start working now if I'm ever going to have a prayer of getting those paid off!"
"Give the soul to that vampire and I'll set your blood on fire!"
"Give the soul to that witch and I'll see to it that you never have blood again, flammable or not!"
"WE CAN FORCE-FEED YOU ICECREAM!" they both shouted in unison.
Cowering, Pitch's mind raced. He had to give the soul to one of them....but which one? How to decide?
Much later,....
"Ladies and gentlemen," Pitch shouted to the assembled in the arena. "Boys and girls of all the circles of Hell, Tartarus, and all the other respective uncomfortable parts of the land of the dead, I give you the first ever Battle Of Soul Reclamantion! The contestants are Melissa the Witch, and Tandra the Vampire! The first one to render the other one unconcious shall return to the surface world with their soul intact, while the other is sent to a cage far, far away from me for the next two centuries. Ready? FIGHT!"