Thursday, March 08, 2007

Mortimer at Mindor II

"Defense I need but not from arms,
Tis words that seek to do me harm.
Come now he that passed the bar,
Let not my wife have kids and car.
Let not my inheritance be lost,
Let those who wronged me pay the cost.
Let not my contract be in breach,
Help me, lawyer, I beseech."

As Mortimer read these last words off the scroll, the ground shook. A appeared, glowing white-hot. Soon it became larger, the size of a doorway, and a young man in a gray suit walked out. He wore a gray tie with a III on it.
"Hello," he said, "Steven Shelly, Offices of Penütt, Budder, & Shelly."
Mortimer gave him an incredulous look.
"You were expecting Penütt, weren't you? I'm sorry, I'm the junior partner and the only Lawyer III at the firm - you did summon a level three lawyer, right?"
"I did." He turned to the hellish receptionist. "May I have a moment alone with the contract and my legal consul?"
She rolled her eyes and slapped her desk, causing a wall of fire to spring up between her and Mortimer.
"I need you to find a loophole in this," he yelled over the roaring flames, handling Shelley the contract.
"A loophole?"
"I want to be able to sign it, but not be condemned to hell."
"I'll take a look. This might take a while."
"I don't have a while!"
The lawyer looked up frustratedly.
"Look, sir, I'm trying, but you realize this contract came from HELL. They've got a lot of lawyers there. Really good ones. This is likely to be airtight."
"Damn!" he said, flinging his hands up in the air. "I'll just sign the damn thing!"
The fire wall went down.
"Very good, dear," said the receptionist as Mortimer signed his soul away, "I hope you find what you're looking for."
"You can go!" Mortimer said to the lawyer as he handed the paper over. Steven wordlessly disappeared.
As soon as the receptionist took the paper, the ground shook severely. As Mortimer staggered to keep his footing, the air shimmered in the center of the shrine. Soon the demon and her desk began to distort like a rippled pool, and were finally sucked into the disturbance. And when the fiery desk went in, it ripped open the gateway. It was as if a deep molten chasm had opened up, but in the air rather than the ground. As the eerie corridor shimmered before him, a deep voice spoke from within:
Welcome To Hell.

3 comments:

Nathaniel Cornstalk said...

Kind of anti-climactic. Nice rhyme, though.

Jonah Comstock said...

Anticlimactic? He just sold his soul for real!

Anonymous said...

I am really fond of the rhyme. If I'm ever a lawyer, I'll put that on my desk.