Sunday, April 30, 2006

Silver-eyed Demons

Sometimes Latigo Flint gets the distinct feeling he's being watched.
"Hmm, I sense something is watching me." Is what Latigo Flint thinks to himself. Then Latigo Flint notices the demon hanging from the ceiling, grinning at him with silver eyes upside down.

The second-worst thing about discovering a demon on your ceiling is that you tend to moan and wet yourself--and now your couch smells funny and there'll always be a lie behind your eyes when you tell girls how brave you are.

The worst thing about discovering a demon on your ceiling is that you have a demon on your ceiling. And whatever that demon is about to do, it's certain to be unspeakably savage.


A Letter:

Dear All Who Could Have, In Alternate Futures, Been My True Love,

Hello there. How's it going? Hope you're well. I regret that we shall never meet but you see there's this demon on my ceiling, grinning down with silver eyes--and though I don't yet know its plan, I think it's certain to be unspeakably savage.

I'm very brave of course, but like that'll do any good. I'm afraid this demon's advantage is one of gravity and claws.

Good-bye. Please don't marry a jerk.

Latigo Flint

P.S. By the way, someone really needs to invent demon repellent. That is a product I would buy.

Oh yeah, and I guess a time machine so they can ship it to me yesterday.


Demon hasn't attacked yet. It's just biding its time, playing mind games and whatnot.


Demon can make itself look like a credenza--I still hear it laughing though. Fuckin' Demons man.


Demon just disguised itself as my fern. It better not have killed Fern in the process.

Hey, leave Fern alone you wretched demon, he's just an innocent fern! If it's me you want then let's get it done!!!


Demons are intolerable--the schedule always has to be theirs.


Fine then, you wretched demon--I'm gonna get some beer and watch the game while I wait to be disemboweled.

(Oh wait, here it comes.)


At 4:27 AM, Blogger greta said...

Hi Latigo,

Got your letter. I wouldn't worry too much. When I was just a wee thing, I too was convinced my ceiling was home to the most sofa-soilingly terrifying succubus. It turned out it was just my Aunty Dot on a stepladder changing the light bulb. It seems she was never a fan of the wearing of underscrudlies. And it must be said, her lady-maintenance left a great deal to be desired.

At 10:06 AM, Blogger Ari said...

While you're mailing off letters to future selves, maybe you could jot off a note to yourself to ask (or pay) the local clergy to bless that rusting can of Pledge you have stored in the credenza. It'll probably fit in a holster as ample as yours.

p.s. I learned who Mike Griffin is today, courtesy of this fine electropublication.

At 5:37 PM, Blogger Trevor Record said...

Girls never believed me when I told them I was brave anyway.

At 8:38 PM, Anonymous TMC said...

It's a spider, Alice.

Not a demon.

Find your grapes and give it a smush.

At 2:00 AM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Hello Greta. I snortled beer all over myself at the word "underscrudlies". I didn't mean to snortle at your childhood trauma--it just sort of happened that way.

Ari, the previous NASA Administrator of roughly twelve years was an appointee from the Treasury Department... Fuckrocks! No wonder we didn't accomplish anything. M.G. was appointed last year. He's an engineer, old school, and engineers figure out how to get stuff done... it's what engineers do.

Betrayed by snot bubbles and streaking mascara huh Trevor? (Don't worry, I understand.)

Hey!!! Did you just call me "Alice" TMC?!!!

(Actually that's pretty funny right there.)

At 12:31 PM, Blogger SpyScribe said...

Latigo! You have a potted plant?

At 12:39 AM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Well, not anymore SpyScribe--that wretched demon possessed it... and then I had to destroy it.


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