Chapter 2
In which the afterlife is explored, a soul seems to be missing and a job offer is made and accepted.
There has been much discussion on the subject of hell and damnation. People however have never asked the only person, using the term person loosely, who is an expert on the matter. Lucifer has been around for a while now and he has changed hell a couple of times.
Damnation has to change with the times; people need to get what they pay for after all. Somewhere during the eighties Lucifer got bored. It happens to all of us, we do the thing we love so many times that they become boring.
Lucifer became bored so he did what all bored people should do, he found a new hobby. Lucifer’s hobby became investment banking. The devil after all doesn’t go and take up golfing. He looked at the world and thought: “What do normal people fear and hate the most?” The answer was simple, taxes and bankers.
It is here that our beloved Mister Smith comes in the picture. Ordinary mister Smith who had taken a bullet, two in fact, that was never meant for him.
Mister Smith woke up in a waiting room. He immediately e felt at home. He had spent a lot of times in waiting rooms and this was a good one as far as meeting rooms went. There was even a machine in the corner which to his pleasure had a special option for tea.
He had been quietly been waiting for a few hours, when the only door opened and a man stepped in. He looked around and one of his eyebrows went up almost exploding from his head. “Mister Smith are you aware that you are in fact dead.” Mister Smith nodded.
“Upon entry in purgatory you have been told that it can be anything you want it to be before your trial starts.” It wasn’t a question. Mister Smith nodded again, the memories slowly coming back to him. “And of all things your heart desired you chose a waiting room.” Again not a question.
Once again Mister Smith nodded. “All right than, would you follow me Mister Smith? Don’t forget the suitcase.” Mister Smith stood up and followed the man. In silence they walked a short while before knocking on a set of huge doors.
They entered and for a moment, just a moment Mister Smith was impressed. The room they walked into was enormous with pillars of black marble and rows upon rows of heavy carved wooden benches. He then remembered that he had lived in London which is by all accounts is the greatest city on earth and in his opinion everything that lay beyond earth.
A man is a Londoner first and an Englishmen second his father used to say and his father was a righteous man if he had ever met one. Mister Smith was guided to a seat of black wood. He sat and quietly waited.
There was the sound of a hammer hitting a piece of wood and suddenly the entire room was filled with people, again using the term people loosely, who were all having conversations. A judge had appeared who again hit the wood with his hammer.
It became silent. “We have gathered here today to judge the immortal soul of Mister John Smith. Would Mister Smith please present his soul to the court?” The strange man nodded towards the suitcase. Mister Smith handed the suitcase to the judge.
“Let it be recorded in the celestial heavens that this briefcase containing Mister Smith’s soul hasn’t been opened since his birth and that the seal remains intact. “ Three voices shouted out at once, “It has been acknowledged and recorded.”
The judge nodded and opened the suitcase and he looked surprised. He turned towards Mister Smith. “Mister Smith can you shine a light on the fact that this suitcase is empty and your soul appears to be missing.” Mister Smith thought for a moment and then shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, my humble apologies.” It has been said that the devil appears when a man is at his lowest point but as a working man Mister Smith had always declared that to be nonsense. A working man faces challenges, sure.
He might fall on hard times, naturally with the economic difficulty. He might even become unemployed but a real working man will realize that there is always a job that he can do and so he will be at his lowest point.
The devil however did have good timing. The court was in an uproar, the judge didn’t know what to do and Mister Smith was just slightly, any more would be inconvenient, upset about his missing soul. There was the click of a lighter and the sound of cigarette burning.
Normally this wouldn’t have been heart above the noise but Lucifer supreme lord of hell was driving a point home so he made sure that nobody missed it. “Ladies and gentleman I would ask all of you to be silent, if it is not too much trouble.” He smiled.
“I don’t believe that adjourning this meeting until Mister Smith’s soul is found will help. Not because I don’t believe that if there was a soul to be found it would be found quickly but rather because I believe there is no soul to be found.” The judge looked at the devil stupefied.
“Have we all read the briefing on Mister Smith’s life? Excellent. It states that the man has lived the same day for twenty years in a row while never taking a break. Not once did Mister Smith call in sick or did he go on vacation.
I would like to add that mister Smith lives alone with his cat. These are clues that Mister Smith might never have had a soul to begin with, however these clues aren’t proof. Not even his extreme love of math and numbers, which is odd and if you asked me absolute proof, proves that.
However the fact that this court acknowledged that his suitcase containing his soul hasn’t been opened is proof of his soullessness.” He looked around and went on when nobody protested. “Since mister Smith doesn’t have a soul I can’t claim him nor can heaven or purgatory.
I however can offer him a job as senior manager in Hell incorporated, where he will handle all budget related cases.” The devil looked straight at Mister Smith, flashing a million pound smile. “That is if he is interested, of course.” The judge thought it over and nodded.
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“The court will agree with this proposal if Mister Smith doesn’t undergo any sort of torture and he agrees.” Everybody looked at Mister Smith who was feeling rather uncomfortable. He was distressed and did what he always did when somebody asked something of him, he nodded and smiled.
“The court has reached its decision and is hereby adjourned.” The hammer hit the wood three times and suddenly the room was empty again, apart from Mister Smith and the devil. The devil walked towards him and stretched out his hand. “Mister Heath is the name, welcome to the company mister Smith.” Mister Heath smiled his million pound smile when Mister Smith shook his hand.
After Lucifer took up his new hobby he remodeled hell. It is now a rather frustrating unpleasant place instead of a painful unpleasant place. Hell currently looks like a bigger version of London. Only there are some minor adjustments.
The underground for instance is always crowded, it is always raining instead of often, the buses are always at least ten minutes late, computers stop working without reason, taxes are higher than ever and some Frenchman rules the country.
Every minor inconvenience that can happen to a man happens to the citizens of hell all the time. Now some people might call this rather simplistic for eternal damnation but some people probably have never spent two hours in an overcrowded smelly sweaty tube where private space is made up and thus doesn’t matter or in fact exist.
Compared to the old place however hell currently as the phrase goes: “ain’t a bad place to be.”
Mister Smith settled into his new life rather quickly. It might in fact be said that his new life didn’t differ that much from his old life. He enjoyed his new job as much as his old one and since he was exempted from damnation he didn’t have to suffer any inconveniences.
Any inconveniences apart from his colleagues that is. It was very hard keeping track who did what kind of work. Take mister Yagi for instance. Mister Yagami was supposed to deliver a report on the pollution of the Styx today, it actually should have been on his desk already.
When Mister Smith inquired about his whereabouts his secretary told him that mister Yagi would return in about a thousand years since he was currently lying on the bottom of the Styx. When Mister Smith had asked to the reason why it had been met with a pulled eyebrow.
“To check the pollution levels sir like you commanded him to.” It was a problem he had come across quite often lately. Since the citizens of hell expected damnation they took most of his commands a bit too literary in a negative way.
For example when he had found out that a lot of his employees harmed themselves in rather cruel ways he had told his secretary, Urk the terrible, to start a help group. The help group was well received but when he went to check upon it he came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t actually help anyone.
His employees helped each other harm themselves. He decided that it was a good exercise as far as teamwork went and left it at that. Apart from these issues there were some other minor problems, like copy machines that never worked or toilets that flushed people down the drain, but Mister Smith couldn’t complain.
As a part of senior management he enjoyed certain privileges, the company car for instance was very welcome. His schedule however hadn’t changed that much. On Mondays he reviewed any work that had been done over the weekend.
On Tuesdays he usually met with Mister Heath’s security detail. A rather strange bunch if you asked him, which of course no one did since that would be rather rude, with their forked tales, split tongues and bad breath.
After the meeting with the security detail he would meet with the board of the damned. The meeting with the board was ever a pleasant enterprise since each week he found new ways to heighten productivity, mainly by doing simple things like refusing eternal damnation to get in the way of good work.
On Wednesdays he would start the day by meeting with all the employees to discuss work floor protocol. It was a rather strange experience where he sat on a throne of human skulls, which couldn’t be hygienic, and the damned swore while bowing deeply to do everything they could to please him.
At 12:00 sharp he would wait outside Mister Heath’s office door, a giant burning pit which smelled of cigarette smoke, and wait for Mister Heath’s arrival. Mister Heath always arrived at 12:01, not a second sooner or later.
The devil was in the details after all. Together they would walk towards the elevator. They always took the elevator on the left since the right one let to one of the old torture pits. During their walk they would go over any subjects that Mister Smith deemed important enough to be brought to Mister Heath’s attention.
After the meeting with Mister Heath Mister Smith usually took a walk past the Styx to clear his mind and think off anything important he might have missed. After his walk he would just go back to work and work until he was done.
On Thursdays he held as it was called “court”. He would once again ascend the skull throne and his employees would come forward singing out their complaints or ask for favors. These favors ranged from quite normal, like extra paper for department D-5, to bizarre, like if sharing one’s body with the soul of an ancient demon bend on destroying all creation would be a problem for work efficiency.
Mister Smith had decided that it in fact would affect work efficiency since two pairs of eyes, or one pair of eyes and a pair of burning slits, always saw more than one.