|Blogs > rm_avezes2004 > the dark side of the sun|
Last night we had a very strange show. We have a lot of shows here at the bar because most of the good musicians were allowed into Hell to be close to their fans. Only ones like Michael Bolton went to heaven because they had no fans to get close to.
Last night the devil broke out his fiddle and played for us. It was impromptu. I always like best when I don’t have to promote a show, it just comes together.
We were sitting at the bar talking to a new guy, J, who arrived in the past couple weeks. Apparently they had met before. J was asking the devil if he still played the fiddle.
It was funny to hear the devil braggin on his prowess. He swore up and down that he had invented the fiddle.
I sat down and started drinking tequila with them and after a few shots the devil produced this flaming stick with strings on it that vaguely resembled an electric violin.
He stood up to play and what the fuck, the first cover tune he played was Devil Went Down to Georgia by Charlie Daniels. The entire crowd was laughing. It was a site to see as he got to the part where Johnny was about to beat him and grinned at the crowd. Then he actually had Johnny beat him in the song.
He played a few more covers, even a strange remix of Heart and Soul by the Cult that left me confused and sad.
There was no band of demons that joined in; there was no fire from his fingertips. I felt a little cheated.
When he sat down I asked, “So what happened to your band of demons?”
“Smart ass.” He retorted. “They are why I lost the first time.”
“So the song is a true story?”
“Don’t all fairy tales have a base of truth?”
“How the fuck would I know? But, I guess so.”
I have learned that sometimes it is best to drop conversations with him, this should have been one of those times.
“How many times have I sat here and told you exactly that?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I responded trying to get out of this lecture that I know is coming. It didn’t work.
The lecture went on for hours, and you can thank me because I will not bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that the devil is a very paranoid and twisted individual. How I could still come to that realization after all our talks just proves how dense I can be.
Anyways, after all that long night it is good to finally be alone in here. Sometimes I forget how insanely beautiful the lake of fire can be from this view. The bouncing, burning bodies of the lawyers, politicians and televangelists make the fire itself look alive. The screams of the new arrivals echo off the mountains and are almost visible by the time they reach the plate glass that overlooks them from my bar.
All my days on earth seem so far away now, but I honestly cant remember a time I ever felt as peaceful as I do when watching the paradox that is serenity and pain that comes from this lake.