Percy shuffled the papers on his desk nervously. The boss wanted to see him, and that could only mean bad news was on the way. When the clock read 1:30, he straightened his tie, checked his reflection in the picture frame containing his wife’s portrait, cleared his throat and strode over to the door marked “City Desk” in what he hoped was a self-assured manner.
“Come in, Perseus,” his supervisor said, “have a chair.”
“I’d prefer to stand,” Percy replied, “I sit most of the day as it is.”
“Your choice,” the man replied, “let’s get down to it, then. You haven’t been doing too well lately,
have you?”
“A few set-backs, I’ll agree,” Percy conceded, “but I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I can get back to my old form. I just need another chance, sir. I’m sure I can do it.”
“Yes, harrumph, ah yes. Well, it can be a devil of a job.” They both shared a hearty laugh at the pun, and he continued. “Herpes was your idea wasn’t it? And a little work in Northern Ireland, and of course the Jim Jones thing in Guyana, but it’s been a long time since you caused any significant misery in the world. You’re on a losing streak Perseus, and we just can’t afford that sort of thing around here. My department has always maintained a first-class rating, and I intend to see that it stays that way. The Big Guy himself will be coming through on an inspection tour in a few days, and I need to show results!”
“I know I can do it, sir. I just need a chance, just one more chance,” Percy pleaded humbly.
“Very well, son. I’ve always liked you, but this is the last opportunity you’ll get. Screw up, and even I won’t be able to protect you from the Chairman’s wrath. Here’s the file,” he said, sliding a manila folder across his desk. “Now get out, and good luck.”
“Thank you sir,” Percy said taking the folder and walking out the door, “You won’t regret it.” He returned to his cubicle, and sat down to examine its contents, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Hot
as Hell in here today,” he thought, smiling, “just the way I like it.”
A half an hour later he replaced the last sheet of paper in the folder and laid it on his desk. “Piece of cake,” he said, and decided to take the rest of the day off. He was going to be pretty busy for the next few days, and he thought maybe he and the missus could get in an afternoon at the Lake of Fire before he had to leave.
The next day he arose bright and early, took a hot sulphur bath, and put on his best suit. “See you later honey,” he called, “don’t wait up.”
He caught the 7:45 bus to the Corridor, and got off at the Denver staircase. “666 stories to Topworld,” he thought, wistfully eyeing the elevators. But, unfortunately you had to be Grade C or better to ride them, and Percy was still languishing at Grade D status. “Oh, well,” he sighed, and started up the steps.
Two hours later, he was sitting on a park bench in downtown Boulder, Colorado. Across the way, a young couple were lying on a blanket, happily sharing a picnic lunch. “Periods of transition,” he remembered from his graduate psychology course, “present the best opportunity for chaos to be introduced. Tragedy will be greatly enhanced at these times.” And, Percy knew from studying the files in the folder, that these young lovers were at a watershed moment in their relationship. He took the files out, and began once more to review the papers, glancing occasionally at the man and woman as they ate.
The man’s name was J.D. Fieldcrest, age: 37, 6-1, 210, brown and hazel. He taught English at a community college in Phoenix, liked to ski, played piano and wrote the occasional song. He lived alone, with his two cats, Biscuit and Gravy, and was passionately in love with the woman, although he still hadn’t told her so.
The woman was Jennifer Walsh, pushing 30, 5-3, 125, sandy brown and blue. She was a pharmaceutical rep who traveled all over the western states, hawking the latest wonder drugs to unsuspecting docs who were universally charmed by her vibrant personality, and easy smile. She lived with her sister in Boulder, liked going to the theatre, and wanted nothing more than to live in a mountain cabin with a big husky dog. She thought she might be falling in love with the man, but was still wary after her last relationship, which had ended badly. Commitment was a scary proposition for her, and J.D. had been hinting around that he was interested in something more permanent, which she wasn’t sure she was ready for just yet. Even though she was attracted to him, whenever he was in town she would begin to feel suffocated, and had to fight the urge to run away. “Thank God he hasn’t said those three little words yet,” she thought, “I just couldn’t handle it.”
Percy grinned, and replaced the folders in his briefcase. “This could actually be fun,” he thought. He walked across the park to a pay phone, fumbling around in his pocket, looking for change. Another hassle to deal with. Grade C operatives all had cellular phones - so much easier to conceal, and of course, ultimately portable. It made it a lot harder when you had to find a phone nearby, and severely limited your ability to deal with a mobile subject. “Ah yes, more of the perks of power,” he grumbled, and picked up the receiver.
He inserted a quarter and said, “J.D. Fieldcrest’s brain please.”
J.D. and Jenny were having a playful argument about what the initials in his name stood for. She still
didn’t know, and he wouldn’t tell her.
“John Dillinger.” she said hopefully.
“Nope.”
“Junkyard Dog, then.”
“Close.”
“Justin Dickless.”
“Oh, that’s cute.”
Percy cradled the phone on his shoulder and said, “Tell her you love her, J.D.”
“I don’t think so,” J.D.’s brain replied.
“She needs to hear it, son. You need to let her know how you feel.”
“She’s not ready.”
“She’s a big girl, J.D. She can handle it. Besides, you’re going to explode if you try to keep it to yourself any longer. Honesty’s the best policy, you know. No secrets and all that jazz.”
“I’m not so sure. She gets kinda squirrely when I try to talk about love.”
“Tell her, J.D.”
Percy hung up and watched the conversing couple for a minute, and when a look of shock washed over Jennifer’s face he deposited another quarter.
“He’s really pushing, isn’t he, Jenny,” he said, “it’s just like before. He won’t stop, he’ll just keep pushing and pushing until you give in. You’ll lose your freedom. You’ll lose your identity. You’ll end up fat and married, washing his socks and eating TV dinners, and you’ll never have any more fun. He’ll be possessive and jealous, and if he isn’t, you’ll probably invent some reason to break it off. It’s a family curse, you know. Your sisters ruined their marriages, and so will you. Run away, Jenny. Run away while you still can!”
He hung up the phone and returned to observe from the bench as the conversation escalated into a fight. When Jennifer tried to leave, J.D. grabbed her by the arm and she slapped his face. More harsh words ensued, and the whole scene ended with the woman storming off to her car and driving away in a cloud of dust and tears.
Percy watched as J.D. checked into the hotel across the street, made a small note as to which room, and walked into the restaurant to order lunch.
“Something hot,” he told the waiter.
Later that afternoon he called a cab, and rode out to Jennifer’s house. He slipped into the living room (locked doors were no problem for someone with his special talents) and found her sitting on the couch agitatedly flipping through a Redbook. He stole back to the kitchen and picked up the telephone.
“He’s limiting you, Jenny girl,” he said. “No woman should have to be stuck with just one man. Who does he think he is? He lives miles away, you hardly ever see each other, and God knows, it gets lonely on the road. Is he worth it, Jenny? Could you ever be satisfied with just one man? With this man? Is he really so special that you would give up all the others? There’s lots of men out there Jenny. What makes him so different, so unique? There’s plenty of others that could take his place in a second. Why buy the bull when you could have the whole darn breeding service?”
“Damn straight,” she replied.
“Let’s go have a drink,” Percy said, and hung up the phone.
Five margaritas later, they were eying the beefcake at the Nasty Habit saloon. Jennifer was sitting at the bar, and Percy was standing in the hallway by the rest rooms, pay phone in hand.
“Ooh, he’s cute,” he said, “must be some kind of body builder. To hell with the brains and a sense of humor, give me rippling biceps and a tight butt any day. Hey, perk up! He’s looking your way, now’s your chance. We’ll show that little prick J.D. that he can’t dictate your life!”
Jennifer looked the construction worker in the eye and sensuously licked the salt off the rim of her glass.
“Good girl,” Percy said, flicking the switch on the phone and dialing J.D’s room.
“What do ya say J.D.?” he said. “You know, I think we made a big mistake this afternoon. We shouldn’t have pushed Jenny so far. We knew she was a little skittish about this commitment thing. Maybe we’d better go over to her place and try to make up, huh? She’s probably cooled off by now. You don’t want to lose her, J.D. Not over something as silly as this. How many women have you met in your life that compare to her, J.D.? Pretty damn few. None, actually. She’s been the brightest flame in your fire, and we both know it.”
“I’ll see you there, J.D.” he said, and hanging up, followed Jennifer and her newfound admirer out to their cars.
“Oh, this is getting good.”
J.D. arrived at Jennifer’s house a minute after she and the body builder did. He sat in his car and watched dazedly as the two of them got out and kissed passionately. Then Jennifer took the man’s hand and pulled him through the door, into her house. He saw her throw her coat on the floor, and then close the curtains.
This wasn’t the first time J.D. had been betrayed by his feelings, but it was the most painful.
When he was a young college student, he thought that he had met the girl of his dreams. She made his world go ’round, and she said that he did the same for her. It was the happiest time of his life, as they went shopping for the engagement ring, and speculated about their future together. They played along with The Newlywed Game, answering all the questions as if they were already married. They slept in a little twin bed, and when the bedroom got too cold in the winter, they moved out to the living room floor on a sleeping bag. The future was bright in front of them, and J.D. thought that he had found the woman with whom he could grow old.
Then, one day, he decided to surprise her, and drove over to her parent’s house without telling her. The joke was on him, however, when she came home with her old boyfriend, snuggled up next to her in his car. They spotted J.D.’s Camaro in the driveway, and didn’t stop, but he saw them drive by from his station at the picture window.
He cried for the entire summer.
But, this time was worse, because he had struggled for years to get past the old hurt and have a normal relationship. And now the trust didn’t come so easily. He had vowed to never be hurt like that again, and for years that meant never letting anyone get close enough to do the hurting. Jennifer had been the first woman he had let himself really fall for in fifteen years. And now here she was about to make love to another man.
To J.D., the faith he had placed in her meant everything. In his heart he had said, “I trust you not to take advantage of me if I love you. I will always be there for you, I’ll love you and support you and I’ll be your biggest fan. And I’ll hope that you won’t hurt me, because I don’t think I could take it again.”
He looked at the shaded windows one last time and turned the car around, weeping bitterly as he drove back to the motel.
“So much for trust,” he thought dejectedly.
Along the way he stopped at a pawn shop and bought a pistol.
Percy stood in the park watching J.D.’s hotel window with delight. “Amazing,” he thought, “It’s working out even better than I could have hoped for.”
Back at the house, Jennifer pulled back, looking at the man on the couch next to her and wondered, “What the hell am I doing? One fight with J.D. and I’m about to wax this guy’s porpoise? What’s got into me? This is so wrong.”
She walked over to the counter, picked up the phone, and called the hotel. “J.D. Fieldcrest, please,” she told the operator.
After the twelfth ring she hung up. “Damn,” she said, “Listen Arty Joe, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I have to leave. I really am sorry.”
“I knew it was too good to be true,” he sulked, and picked up his coat.
In his room, J.D. contemplated the gun. Its barrel was smooth and black, and it was heavy in his hand. He caressed it gently, turning it over and staring at it with rapt fascination. In his left hand he held his wallet, open to a portrait of Jennifer.
“Bye, Jenny,” he said softly to the picture, “I could’ve loved you more than anything,” and he put the
barrel of the pistol in his mouth.
Percy sat on the park bench, grinning like he was at a movie.
“Act three, scene two,” he said as Jennifer’s car pulled up in front of the lobby. “The girlfriend arrives.”
Jennifer got out of the car and walked quickly into the hotel. As she stepped onto the elevator, a single gunshot shattered the silence of the night.
Percy laughed and walked over to a lilac bush. “Perfect timing,” he said, “could be my best ever.” Then the bush shimmered and a door appeared, allowing Percy to step through. “Wait ’til the boss sees these tapes,” he said, “Human misery at its best. The tragic ending! One dead, one mourning for the rest of her life. I’ll make Grade C yet!”
And with that, he began his long descent.
He went right to the office as soon as he got back. Everyone was waiting for him, including the
Big Guy himself.
“Rightfully so,” he thought, “a masterpiece like this doesn’t happen every day.”
“My adoring fans,” he said as he walked through the door, but stopped short after a few feet. He didn’t like the way they were all looking at him.
“What?” he said, feeling their hostility envelop him.
“You screw up, you left too soon,” his boss growled, “look at this!” and he plugged a tape into the VCR. Percy watched apprehensively as the drama unfolded. There he was in the park, there was Jennifer, arriving too late, and then came the sharp crack of the gunshot. But when the view shifted to the hotel room, Percy’s heart sank as he saw that J.D. had pulled the pistol away at the last moment. Oh, shit, and there was Jennifer bursting through the door, falling into his arms, the two of them crying and swearing their undying love to each other.
“A happy ending, YOU NITWIT!” shouted The Prince Of Darkness, “I CAN’T STAND HAPPY ENDINGS!”
So they took poor Percy away. “You can have your choice,” said the head guardsman, “of where you will spend eternity.” Behind door number one was a roomful of people being slowly eaten by snakes.
“I hate snakes,” Percy whimpered.
Through door number two he saw a group of dentists happily drilling away on a number of
screaming patients.
“No novocaine in Hell,” said the guard with a grin.
Behind door number three was a group of people standing chin deep in pig shit, smoking cigarettes.
“All things considered, I think I’ll go for this one,” Percy said.
“Suit yourself,” said the devil, tossing him into the pit.
“Well, it smells terrible, and tastes worse, but it beats the snakes or the dentists,” Percy said. “Can I bum a cigarette?” he asked, tapping the man next to him on the shoulder.
Just then the door opened, and the biggest, meanest devil Percy had ever seen walked in. “Alright
assholes,” he bellowed, “break’s over! Everybody back to standing on your heads!”
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