Evil and Good


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    I sighed.  "All right, fine.  What's this 'price'?"
    "The price is, of course..."  The guy (?) took a folded sheet of paper
from the suitcase and held it out.  I took it, a sense of unreality falling
over me, and opened it to read--
    Names.  And phone numbers.  I looked up.  "Huh?" I said, intelligently.
    "Clients," the guy said.  "Prospective clients, which we would like you to
service."
    I rubbed my chin.  "Well, if we had this many clients, I wouldn't *need*
all that money.  Why not just get them to hire me?"
    "They don't know about you."  He shrugged.  "But they would find your
services most helpful, I think."
    Not quite what I expected, I have to admit.  After a moment, I smiled.
"And here I thought you were going to ask for my soul, or something."
    He chuckled.  "Oh, no, no, no.  Your soul already belongs to us."
    Okay, *now* this was getting weird.  "Er, huh?" I asked again.  "I mean,
uh...Does that mean you're, y'know, the devil?"
    He snickered.  "Do you really think the Dread Lord would visit you
personally?  No, I'm just a minor functionary.  You can call me Mr. Black."
Mr., uh, Black bowed.
    "I...see," I said.  "Okay, fine.  I can handle this.  But what do you
mean, you already have my soul?"
    Mr. Black shrugged again.  "Well, you're a telemarketer.  Do you actually
think you'd go to Heaven?"
    "...Well, yeah.  That makes sense."  I slumped in my chair.  "But...I
still had a bit of hope...aw, damn."
    "Yes, exactly.  In any case, please contact these prospective clients, and
take this to cover your operating expenses."  He tossed the bundle of money
onto my desk.
    I stared at it.  "And if I refuse?"
    He snapped his fingers.  The money disappeared, and then reappeared in his
briefcase.  He took it out, tossed it on the desk, and snapped his fingers
again.  The same thing happened.  "Okay, I admit it, I'm easily amused," he
said, chuckling.  "Anyway...you think it over."  He closed his briefcase,
turned, and walked to the door.
    "Wait!"  Mr. Black turned and looked at me inquisitively.  I frowned.
"Uh, well, I just wanted to know--"
    "Why?"  The demon chuckled.  "Isn't it obvious?  You call people up, and
they get annoyed.  They take it out on their friends, loved ones, perfect
strangers.  And those people, in turn, take it out on others, and so on, and
so on."  He grinned.  "We just want you to keep up the good work.  You see?"
    And then he was gone.
    I sat, in my chair, thinking.  There was certainly a lot to think about...
It wasn't every day I met a demon.  And what he'd said...Had I been
unwittingly serving the cause of evil, my whole life?  I had no illusions
about what section of the afterlife I was probably going to, but...I had a
sudden picture of damned souls being sorted out by demons.  "Fornicators over
here..."  I stepped forward.  "Telemarketers over here..."  "Whoops, I'm in
the wrong line."
    So I was sitting there, all the weird little thoughts gallivanting about
in my head, when I heard footsteps.  After a moment, my secretary appeared in
the doorway.  She was frowning, but then stared as she saw my expression.
    "Hi, Betty," I said softly.  "Thought you'd left."
    "Well, I did," she replied.  "But I felt a little guilty about not, you
know, saying goodbye.  So...uh, Mr. Jackson?  Are you all right?"
    "Are we evil?" I asked, staring off into space.
    Her expression turned sort of 'what the hell?', which made me grin.
"Evil, sir?"
    "Telemarketing."  I leaned forward.  "Is it evil?  Lots of people say it
is, don't they?"
    Betty tilted her head to the side.  "Well, there's a demand for it, right?
It's not like we're spending our lives trying to hurt people.  We're providing
a service that people *pay* for."
    I rubbed my chin.  "So it's not our fault, is that what you're saying?"
    "Fault?  What 'fault'?  People are people, right?"  She frowned.  "Are you
all right, sir?"
    After a moment, I grinned.  "Yeah, actually, I am.  I'm doing a lot
better.  In fact..."  I picked up the money and counted it.  Ohhhh, yeah.  "I
just closed a business deal.  I think business is going to be a lot better
from now on."
    Betty noticed the money, and her eyes got wide.  She walked around behind
my desk.  "Is that--"
    "You may want to reconsider your decision."  I chuckled to myself.
    Betty slid into my lap, and put her mouth to my ear.  "You know I wouldn't
leave unless I absolutely had to," she murmured.
    I tucked a bill between her breasts, and kissed her.
    Life was looking...good.


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by John Evans
jevans@alum.mit.edu

The Sunburst Project, Week 3
http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/sbp/
3/30/00