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11/17/2007 - George and The Devil

He silently sits and watches from behind the oval shaped window pane as faint, distant flickers of lightening, softly illuminate in the distant midnight skies.. And as the slow billows of thunder slowly rumble outside, and the beads of rain begin to splatter themselves onto the pane, he spins around to his desk and leans forward to ponder the image that he sees in the small mirror that lay flat across his desk. Through the remnants of the white powder that are spread across its surface he barely recognizes the image that is staring back at him. He takes the razor blade and drags it across the mirror’s surface and pulls the powder remnants into a strait line, and slowly leans forward to inhale them, he pulls away to once again ponder the image that is looking up at him. Man? God? Leader of the free world? Ahh, yes that is what it is, pride and vanity, arrogance in the stare, he’s the man. It is the first time he hears the voice echoing softly through the darkened room.
“Why do you do this George?”
He looks, startled at the revelation of finding a complete stranger sitting across the desk from him, he is a lean man with a dark complexion, with equally dark eyes, his hair is thick, and jet black and neatly combed away from his face, which sports a well trimmed black beard and moustache that highlight his features.
“Hey mister! Who the hell are you? How’d you get in here?? I have security here ya know?-”
He stops in mid sentence, as the stranger just stares at him.
“George.. Sit down.. You and I are going to have a talk.”
George is now becoming aggravated, but the feeling of uneasiness, keeps him in check.
“Hey man do you know who I am?”
The stranger slowly pours tobacco into a pipe and lights it.
“George.. I know who you think you are, and its going to stop.”
“Whadda ya talkin about?”
He watches as the leader of the free world begins to squirm in his seat like a nervous school boy.
“Afghanistan George.”
“What?”
“Iraq George.”
“What?”
“Osama… Saddam… Really George… make up your mind would you?..”
“Hey man… I brought Saddam to justice!”
“And what about Osama?… really George.. I find it odd the way you conveniently forgot about HIM as soon as you were close enough to daddy’s old buddy Saddam. Really George, you change stories quicker than I do.”
“Hey man.. Who are you anyway?”
“Think real hard George.. Really hard

He slowly sinks back into his chair and stares at the stranger in disbelief.
“Y.. You..” He stammers.. “You are …..HIM?”
The stranger stares at him expressionless, slowly raising the pipe to his lips, soft grey plums of smoke emerge from his lips.
“George.. For real now.. Fuck man what do you suppose your own people are thinking right about now? Do you really expect them to believe that this is still about Terrorists?”
He sits pondering the question.
“You don’t think that they’re buying it?”
He lifts the pipe to his lips.
“Think about it, before you became president.. Hell. Even before you ever became Governor of the great state of Texas.. Wasn’t you into Oil then?. In fact aren‘t you still into Oil Now?”
He blinks repeatedly but doesn’t answer.
“Now here you are George.. You have the most powerful military force on this planet sitting on top of one of the single largest oil reserves in the world, you can surely understand how people could think that Osama, Saddam, The weapons of mass destruction, all of it George, nothing more than a flimsy excuse.”
He cocks his head at the stranger, searching silently for an angle.
“Okay.. So.. You’re the Devil right?”
He stares.
“So I get it!! You’re not here to take me away!! You’ve come to congratulate me on the great job that I’m doing!!”
He rolls his eyes at the foolish notion and takes another drag from the pipe.
“No George.. I’m not here to pat you on the back.”
A look of confusion crosses his face.
“W.. what?”
“And No George.. I’m not here to take you back to hell.”
“So what then?”
He leans forward.
“I’m here to tell you to knock it off George.”
“To knock it off?”
“Yes.. The lies… the deceit.. The level of corruption that you and You’re little band of merry men have displayed over the last eight years is becoming legendary.”
“I thought that you over anyone else would be proud of me!”
“I want you to stop George, and you will, there are people in this world that are starting to believe that you are ME.. And that is something that I simply will not allow to happen.. You see George My logic is quite simple..”
He looks up at him.
“Being the bane of existence itself?.. that’s MY fucking job not yours.”
He waits for a response but is met with silence.
“And George… try to lay off the cocaine would you? That shit will rot you’re brain.”
And as the Devils rises and begins to make his exit, he pauses to look back at the man with the funny little grin and vacant stare, and he knows that it is already too late.

~Scratch~ © 2007.