What Would Satan Do?

What Would Satan Do? by Anthony Miller Read Free Book Online

Book: What Would Satan Do? by Anthony Miller Read Free Book Online
Authors: Anthony Miller
shoulder, to make sure Liam wasn’t within earshot.  Raju’s vague antipathy toward Festus took a backseat to any opportunity to conspire or otherwise be sneaky.
    Festus looked toward the back too.  Liam was busy downing tortilla chips and yelling at the television.  “Is he watching the news again?” asked Festus.
    Raju turned to regard his boss.  “Yeah, I know.  What the hell, right?”
    They shook their heads, and then leaned back over the counter in their conspiratorial huddle.
    “Listen,” said Festus, “I really need you to drive me somewhere tomorrow.”
    “Okay,” said Raju, “when?”
    “Eight o’clock.”
    Raju stood and slapped the counter.  “This will not be a problem for me, my friend.” 
    Festus took a deep breath, preparing to lay out his case, and then stopped.  “Really?” 
    “Most definitely.  Not.  Most definitely not.  Not a problem.”
    “Well, okay.  I’ll meet you here first thing tomorrow morning!”
    “Okay,” said Raju.  “Wait, what?”
    “You’d rather come pick me up?  That’s fine.  You know, whatever.”
    “No, no, no,” said Raju, pressing his fingers to his temples as he tried to wrap his brain around the incomprehensible, absurd notion of being up as early as eight in the morning.  On a Sunday even.  “There is no way I can help you.  It is not possible.  This is much too early.”
    “Well … can I borrow your car?” asked Festus.
    Raju became apoplectic.  “Can I borrow your car?  Can I borrow your car?  What kind of question is this?” 
    “Hey, mmrph,” said Liam.  His hand, apparently unaware that he was trying to speak, stuffed another bite of fajita into his mouth.  “Look at this bullshit!”  He pointed to the TV.
    Festus and Raju stepped into the back office.  The television showed Texas Governor Dick Whitford giving a speech.  “That guy is the fucking anti-Christ,” said Festus.
    “Didn’t he die?  I thought he was dead,” said Raju. 
    “No, not dead.  Undead maybe,” said Liam, pointing to the screen that showed a very not-dead Governor.
    Raju’s eyes grew wide.  “You mean he’s a zombie?”
    Reasoning that spending too much time answering the questions of a complete idiot can lower one’s IQ, Liam had long ago made it a rule simply to ignore most of Raju’s queries.  He kept watching the news as he tried to liberate the last of the queso from the prison of its Styrofoam container.
    “Are you sure he’s a zombie?  I mean, I guess he looks pretty dead, but still, you know?” Raju reached for the empty bowl.  “Man, we’re out of queso,” he said.  He held the bowl up to the light and scraped at the bottom with a chip.  “Dude!” said Raju, dropping his accent again in order to set out his first employee-relations dispute of the day.  “I wanted some of that, you queso-hogging fuck.” 
    Liam pointed the remote at the TV, and cranked the volume.  The television distracted Raju for a second, but then he turned back to berate Liam some more over the cheese sauce. 
    “Oh hey!” he said, snatching up a fresh container of queso.  “You got more.” 
    “I,” said Liam, “use my powers for good, not evil.” 
    Raju stared at Liam for a moment, trying to figure out just what the heck his boss was talking about.  But then he just shrugged and scooped up some more queso. 
    They watched in silence as Governor Whitford disappeared off the screen and an anchor woman came on.  With shockingly white teeth and an oddly motionless helmet of blonde hair, she explained that the government of the State of Texas was stepping up, and stepping in, to fill a void left in the Louisiana state government in the wake of Hurricane John.
    “Oil,” said Liam. 
    “No, no, no.  Queso,” said Raju.
    Liam either ignored Raju or he just didn’t hear him.  “This ... this is just...”
    Festus looked at Liam.  “What?” 
    “Whitford’s a total dirt bag.  A real piece of shit.”
    Raju and

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