One of my friends posted this online. So I took it the next step. And one of my friend’s husband took it the step after that. I have too much free time (that’s a joke… I just live in my brain too much.) My addition:
I’m an emotionally starved neighborhood Rottweiler. I see my owner’s neighbor get out of his car laughing to himself and muttering about how he was able to trick the insurance company into feeding his dark lord with a simple jingle. His painfully long, unwashed black hair hanging down over his goth-made-up ashen face as he walks by his neighbor’s car. I see him glancing in the back seat and he stops, his left hand flicking a lighter on and off over and over. He reaches over and opens the unlocked back door, hell bent on stealing that laptop in the back seat.
I don’t know what brings it on, but I have the sudden need to bite his ass. I bolt for him, as he flicks that lighter and manages to get his entire torso in the car, his butt just hanging out there I pounce right as the flame flickers up from the lighter and he lands face planted, on the polyester seats, flames from the lighter alive against his dirty flannel shirt.
~whoosh~ The flames spread across the dirty, dry polyester and I run for it, leaving his cooking ass writhing in the backseat of some poor schmuck’s car.
If the poor schmuck had cut-rate insurance, this could cost him a small fortune. Luckily, I know who this guy has his insurance through.
I slow down and watch from behind a nearby house as the turd manages to crawl from the now inflamed car, and rolls himself on the concrete. I straighten my body and dust off some of the grass blades from my knees. I pull out a burner phone from my dirty suit and dial the number.
An overly chipper voice comes on the line. “Hi there! Progressive Insurance! I’m Flo! How can I help ya?”
“I’ve got an issue for you, Flo. One of your policy makers got in the way of my mayhem. The tag is North Carolina, REDNOSE. Might be one of your customers that’s obsessed with kleenex. I don’t know.” I say smoothly, still watching as the flames overcome the top of the car. The little demon worshipper has stopped rolling around on the sidewalk and I hear sirens in the distance.
The chipper falls out of her voice a little as I hear her typing in the background, no doubt looking up the license tag. “That’d be Mr. Giggles, the head clown at FSU’s clown college! He’s not going to be very happy with you, Mayhem.”
I balk. “It couldn’t be helped.”
She scoffed in her sweet little voice. “Well try harder next time. I’ll have someone out there in a jiffy to help Mr. Giggles. Did you take care of the fraud? I heard from Allstate. They lost a few good men over there.”
I laugh my wicked laugh. “I’d call it a win.”
I hear her tisking me through the phone. “I wouldn’t call it a win, Mayhem. I have to help poor Mr. Giggles now. He loved that car. It held 40 of his friends at once! It’s going to be hard to replace! I wouldn’t call it a win, and sprinkles are for winners, Mayhem. Sprinkles are for winners.”
Suddenly I feel my chest tighten. “I don’t get sprinkles on my ice cream?”
She sighs softly. “No, but you can still have chocolate sauce because you got the bad guy. Thanks for the call Mayhem. You owe me a favor next time.”
I laugh. “Anything you want dear. Just be careful what you ask for from Mayhem.”
She laughed back. “Oh I will, sweetie. I will.”
Flo hangs up and nods to the new recruit. “Alright, big guy. It’s time to go help Mr. Giggles.” He nods and runs off as she giggles, her giggle slowly fading into a wicked, demonic laugh as her eyes glow red and lime green smoke forms behind her.
“They’ll never know… NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW!!!” the dramatic music reaches a cresendo as her laughter bounces off the stone walls of her evil lair.
AND Care of Dave Hodge (all around introverted badass…):
The dark Lord sat impatiently drumming his fingers on the ornately carved arm of his black throne-like chair. His face was twisted into a scowl. His deep set eyes burned red with unholy fire. The door to the room creaked open on rusted hinges. He looked up and a snarl rose in the back of his throat.
“Well,” he demanded in a sepulchral tone.
“Mayhem has been successfully employed Master.”. The twisted imp hissed in glee.
“Excellent,” the dark one said with an evil smile.
When the imp didn’t leave the dark one glared at him. “What else?”
“It is time for you to film another commercial master.”
“Damnation,” the dark one spat. “These television spots are so tedious.”
“Yes master, but necessary. The others do it.”
“I am aware of that Shalgothoroth,” the dark one snapped. “Tell the film crew to prepare for my arrival.”
“Yes master.”. The imp skittered out of the room quickly.
The dark one rose from his throne and muttered an incantation. A swirl of green smoke surrounded his body. When it was gone, in the place of the dark Lord stood the actor Dennis Haysbert.
“You’re in good hands with All state,” he said practicing his line. With a satisfied smile he left the room to go to the studio.
Please continue in the comments. 🙂