CHOOSE YOUR DEMON

On your 6th birthday you'll do just like all the other kids have done. Just like your parents, and just like the way I did way way back when. The old man was trying to prepare his only grandson for what was to come. It was winter, and they were sitting by a smoldering fire. The kid didn't know what to say about any of it so he sat in silence, staring up. The man seemed to take his queues on what to say next from the childs' facial expressions. Right now he looked as if he was perpetually seeing a ghost. Focused on his granddad with deep cut wrinkled features that looked as though they were becoming more ghoulish and he was getting closer to death by the second in the flickering fading fire light. If it'll make you feel any better son - I'll give you a glimpse at mine. The boy knew it was against the rules, but he also knew there were certain rules that could be bent for direct blood relatives. There were so many rules for simple things. The 5 year old child gave a slight nod. He was sick of the waiting, worrying, and wondering. Alright, now don't stare too long. He warned. These things are for the ones that chose them. With that the wise grandfather leaned back in his chair as far as he could go. He had been hunched over for so long you could have sworn you heard his back crack completely along the spine. From behind the chair the small boy saw the shadows start to change. The flat black darkness began to rip itself from the wall. The fireplace leapt to life with a few flames, but it didn't cast any more light on the scene. The darkness had gathered into a form behind his granddads chair and took a step forward into partial light. It was no longer just a shadow, but a fully formed demon. The boys first glimpse at what was in store for the rest of his days. A demon to call his own. His grandfathers demon was obviously ancient. He remembered hearing all the stories - the demon will age 17 times faster than you - the demon will go through countless phases in its own life cycles - the demon will only speak to you - the demon should only be seen by you or your blood relatives - etc etc etc. In a quiet rasp he then heard his grandfather speak to his nearly lifelong companion in a strange language. Znartoov karloz e bleezen - retlichz qa vvanetzz. The demon stepped further into the light and directly faced the child. In full view the kid saw a being double the size of his grandfather. Its skin looked like charcoal. A shimmering grey black coarseness throughout. Its eyes were piercing. A crimson glow. The mouth a sickly grin that opened to reveal teeth like broken glass, odd-shapen shards. The boy was captivated and only got such a brief description started when his grandpa snapped him out of it by shouting for him to look away. The boy immediately looked back into the fire. More foreign words. Xzarrch ul zeezhark. He heard a soft crumble and looked back to the scene. The demon was gone. The shadows had reformed to their normal positions. Now - that wasn't so bad, was it? With a forced smile full of dread the kid said it was not so bad. He did not want to spend his whole life with a demon. He wondered why it was like this - why has it always been? His grandfather said he was a good boy, and everything will be fine. Tomorrow he would choose his demon.

QUEEN OF ARCADE BAR

Molly woke up in Hangover Land. It is the exact same land as the normal Planet Earth that we all wake up in, but she was fucking hungover. Her eyes could barely pry themselves open through her day old makeup and eye crust, but her alarm had now been going off for 15 minutes. The communication between ear, brain, and muscle functioning systems had finally succeeded in getting the messages sent. Eyes - open. Arm - stretch to turn off alarm. Vocal chords - "Goddamnit" she mumbled. From that point Molly seemed to regain power over her husk of a body. She reached over to hit the 'SNOOZE' button reflexively. The noise would return in 15 minutes, and she had better not be there when it did. Molly had to get to work. It was only Wednesday. With her body still nestled under the covers, her head on her cozy pillow, she wondered, "Why the fuck did I go out on a Tuesday night?"

While Molly went for a new record in getting ready and out the door (under 10 minutes) she noticed her apartment had some clues about last night. She surveyed the living room area. A half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, something yellow smeared on a shoe, 3 crumpled up pieces of paper (upon further inspection: 1- a phone number from someone with no name given. 2- a wet booze smelling receipt with ink smeared to oblivion. Damn. That would have at least solved the mystery of where exactly she drank so much. 3. another receipt for a frozen pizza at Safeway down the street), on the floor a roll of quarters on top of a spread of 10-15 loose quarters, a scepter laying on the couch, and finally her cat staring directly into an empty food bowl. "Shit! Sorry Chino!" She rushed passed him with a pat on the head over to the kitchen and found the cupboard to grab a can for the poor starving beast. While the electric can opener did it's job she pondered these clues. Wait- A scepter!!?

She peered over at the full size beautiful staff. Completely golden except for a gleaming green gem cradled in what looked like talons at the top. It all came rushing back.

Her day job is reviewing sex toys. It is not as exciting or pornographic as you would think. She has a corner office with a view of her city that is nice, and everyday a few boxes of new merchandise arrive at her desk for review. She writes her general opinions on a very popular sex blog, and gets paid a modest hourly wage. It's much more monotonous and dull than she ever thought it would be when she accepted the position. But it is interesting, and it keeps her writing. Sadly, she never actually gets to tests the majority of them due to the high volume that rolls through. There is just not enough time in the day to test all of the worlds dildos and nipple clamps! From time to time she'll get permission from her manager to spend a couple days with some choice products that she deems worthy.

There is a bar nearby where Molly works. Everyday when she drives home she drives past it. It's just called Arcade Bar. And it is exactly that. A bar with an arcade. Outside there is a life sized, wood carved, Pac-Man. This is where last night's impulse had brought her. By herself while driving home she had the sudden urge to play arcade games. Something she had fond memories of with her brothers when they were little kids. The booze was also an added bonus that drew her in. After playing for a couple hours she was taking a break at the bar and looked up. To her amazement was the glorious golden scepter. She pointed at it and screamed over the loud electronic arcade noises to the bartender, "What do you have to do to become Queen of Arcade Bar?!" and without a hint of humor or jest the barkeep barked back, "Get your ass eaten out by Pac-Man!"

The memories flooded back now. She immediately remembered waltzing outside the establishment. So ready. A few geeks who were already clinging at a few arms length to the beautiful girl that chose their home away from home to come for the night followed the excitement outdoors. The bartender kept the door open to the bar to keep one eye on what was happening inside and be sure to see his brave patron complete the challenge. Molly stood next to the wooden mouth agape Pac-Man in all his iconic beauty. She said, "Alright, so I just like stick my butt in it's mouth?" - "Almost - no pants or underwear of course!" - "Easy! That fucking scepter is miiiine!". And with that she unbuttoned her jeans and swiftly pulled them down along with her thong to offer her ass up to the childhood hero of many children across the land. Indeed, he was seemingly 'eating out her ass'. The bartender clapped and gestured with his arm up to the golden rod glowing above the bar. It was time for Molly to claim her prize.

"What the fuck was all that about? The Queen of the Arcade Bar? Ok." she thought as she plopped the cat food into Chino's dish. It was time to go. She dashed out the door to see what this day would have in store. A moment later her alarm went off again. And it would not stop until later that night when she got home to find it still blaring, her cat more annoyed than this morning, and her scepter resting comfortably on the couch.