#a plaque for mayberry

[duranduratulsa]

Now showing on DuranDuranTulsa's Television Showcase 📺...The Andy Griffith Show: A Plaque For Mayberry (1961) on classic DVD 📀! #tv #television #comedy #sitcom #theandygriffithshow #aplaqueformayberry #andygriffith #RIPAndyGriffith #DonKnotts #ripdonknotts #RonHoward #FrancesBavier #ripfrancesbavier #elinordonahue #HalSmith #60s #DVD #durandurantulsa #durandurantulsastelevisionshowcase

[liketwoswansinbalance]

In Unrecognition of Rhian…

This fic is also available on Wattpad or AO3, if you would prefer to read it elsewhere.

⸻

This fic was inspired by a comment about a stained glass window on this post by @wheretheoceanglows! Many thanks for the thought that jumpstarted this!

Summary:

Since Vulcan murdered Rhian, Rafal has not let himself grieve.

⸻

Something was out of place at the Good School and Hedadora did not like it one bit.

A week ago, she had been summoned by the remaining School Master to serve as Dean of Good, and as she had approached the Good School, on the day of her arrival, more and more oddities had come into view.

It wasn't the Stymphs nested atop the coruscating, glass towers, sitting vigil like watchmen.

And it wasn’t the newly-erected, wrought iron gates, proclaiming to all the Woods: TRESPASSERS WILL BE KILLED.

It wasn't even the acrid smoke, billowing from the silver tower that stood like a sentinel over the bay, either.

It was the body strung up in front of the School for Good.

Over the entryway that read: THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD ENLIGHTENMENT AND ENCHANTMENT in shining letters, lovingly polished to a mirror-like sheen, hung a haphazard, iron contraption that held a corpse which rattled about in the wind.

A plaque affixed to the base of the gibbet, beneath the gruesome display read: HERE, FOR SHAME, HANGS THE VILE TRESPASSER VULCAN OF NETHERWOOD. LET HIS FATE BE A WARNING TO THOSE WHO DARE THREATEN THE GOOD.

To Hedadora, the victim’s grisly, charred corpse was unrecognizable, dressed in tatters like a drunken pirate with a now-scraggly beard and bare, dangling, gangrened feet. A singular, rusted, stab wound through its heart had rusted over nearly as much as the weathered cage that contained the man.

Hedadora shook her head, thinking it was a mirage. This was highly unorthodox and quite grotesque for any Ever’s delicate constitution. Surely, that did not belong here.

It was rotting for Heaven’s sake! And the breeze was tainted by its ungodly stench, only exacerbated by the midday sun.

And not a single Ever looked as repulsed as Hedadora had felt! Not one pupil had spared it a second glance.

The bedraggled Evers milled about in a shiftless, permanent fog in black on their way to classes and paid the exhibit no mind. Evers? In black? Ah, yes, she’d heard word of the Good School Master’s death. Those poor, bereaved children!

And that thing likely hadn’t been taken down in weeks, Hedadora presumed. It seemed bolted there, built to last an eternity.

This castle was in dire need of a woman’s touch. But who was she to decide what did and didn’t belong? Well, she assuaged herself, once she was Dean, things would certainly change, that much she knew.

As it turned out, the Evers themselves had become inured to their once-regular feelings of repulsion. They accepted this hideous blot to their otherwise resplendent environs.

But, more than them, the Nevers knew why it hung there—they were finely-attuned to such messages by now in their young lives. Clearly the offal served to ward off newcomers. Harm a single soul on the premises and you were fated to die, uninterred, made into a spectacle for all to gawk at, trophied and mounted.

All this, and Hedadora still hadn’t met the man behind such an operation.

Naturally, rumors were bandied about—that he donned an iron mask, that he burned people alive, even in this apparent utopia, but finally, after training for a total of a week with Professor Mayberry, her soon-to-be predecessor, Hedadora was scheduled to meet the Evil School Master.

⸻

The week prior, Rafal had told himself that his first order of business was to find a competent substitute.

The day after Rhian’s death, Professor Mayberry, had returned to ease the tension and help the transition of power along, until Rafal found someone else to hire. It was the least she could do, she’d confessed tearfully.

Then, Rafal came across a list Rhian had left on his desk. The name Hedadora had not been struck out, so Rafal decided to allot the woman a trial run once he was able to contact her. Probably, she was the candidate Rhian would’ve hired.

When Mayberry left, Rafal stared hard at the calligraphic hand, about to crumple the list and toss it into the wastepaper basket. Instead, he hastily stuffed it into his pocket.

⸻

After Mayberry’s reappearance, no one had seen Rafal for weeks on end.

The Nevers could only verify his presence as they caught onto a new system he had put into place.

None of them, not even Humburg, had been notified, but they were able to intuit what was going on.

Each class, their smoking ranks snaked around the silver tower in an orderly train, and floated up to the tower window, entangled around a glimpse of a beckoning, pale hand.

Yet, no one could tell if the ranks were indeed being evaluated. The leaderboard hadn’t budged in days.

The numbers were always thrust back, burning and dripping with obscure, opaque pitch, driven into the ground by their weight, boring steaming holes into the ground as they guttered out like smoldering meteorites, burrowing their way to Hell.

Every time, the blackened fields were left pockmarked with craters as fearful Nevers jumped out of the missiles’ paths.

⸻

The day of Hedadora’s evaluation, willowy Nymphs flitted around in a nervous circuit in Good’s grand foyer with decanters of chilled, raspberry cordial, croissants, and rosettes of whipped butter. Silver trays held tiny saucers of black olives, pomegranate seeds, poached quail eggs, and luminous, pink, champagne currants.

Students clinked flutes of cordial, and the fairies chirred amongst themselves, but none was more apprehensive than Hedadora herself. She could only will herself to do her best, and hope to be looked upon favorably.

In an instant, the room hushed as the elusive School Master of Evil entered the foyer, appraising Hedadora’s cloud of white hair and pink-rimmed glasses.

He was positively saturnine, Hedadora noted as she saw the sunken shadows beneath his eyes.

Rafal picked up a pitted olive from a dish. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Hedadora sensed a lull, and decided to begin by pitching her best ideas: remodeling the Good School. Perhaps that would sway the unyielding figure before her.

Thus, she spoke of removing the horrendous gibbet to cultivate a more inviting atmosphere, widening the stairwells for easier access to the higher floors and the Library of Virtue, adding a statue garden to the roof, curtains so the students wouldn’t be blinded by the glass walls’ glare, fixing rounded finials to the pinnacles so the darling, little birds wouldn’t be impaled by the sharp spires of Good’s highest turrets. Just simple, minor architectural changes, as, oh dear, oh dear, the current state of Good wouldn’t do at all!

Rafal stared point-blank and said nothing.

Hedadora continued to prattle on brightly, about adding wall sconces and perhaps fresh flowers in them, reaching towards the glorious sun, like all living things did!

Not the Night Crawlers, thought Rafal. Not himself either.

The flowers would remind the students to always reach for the light and strive to be as pure and Good as they could possibly be.

Ridiculous, thought Rafal.

Undeterred by the School Master’s dearth of a response, Hedadora forged on valiantly. As it was, the design of the place was impractical, and the sheer vanity embedded in every cornice was clearly evidence that some frivolous magpie of a person, who only cared for surfaces and shiny things, had designed it without regard for those who actually inhabited the place.

“Out,” Rafal croaked hoarsely.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” Hedadora wrung her hands.

“Out. Out from my Schools.” Rafal fired her on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable, Master Rafal!” Dean Mayberry cried out on behalf of her replacement. She hadn’t spent an arduous week training Hedadora only for her not to fill the role!

Good fights for each other. We can only fight for ourselves, rang in Rafal’s head. Just as he’d last told his Nevers the last time he’d personally taught them.

He had no one to fight for, Evil as he was.

“Out,” he repeated.

⸻

Then came the day of the unveiling. Both Schools were gathered in memory of Rhian.

Onstage, Rafal nodded to Kyma at his side, and the Evergirl pulled a gilded rope, drawing velvet curtains back to reveal a stained glass window in which Rhian was haloed.

The Good School Master’s lithe, white-robed figure was set against panes of champagne and rose and golden-hued glass, with winding, golden, flowered vines encircling his likeness, the tableau resembling a page from a sumptuous, illuminated manuscript.

The golden light of the setting sun set the window aflame, blazing with color as the day approached dusk.

Rafal’s eyes watered, irritated by the excess light, or perhaps the cause was the copious number of flower arrangements festooning the halls.

He turned away from the window, eyes dull and dimmed to a deadened gaze.

Tears streamed down several Ever’s faces, as they split into piteous, extravagant sobs, derailing the assembly.

No one would get anything done if they were still mourning Rhian, Rafal realized. Perhaps he’d decided wrong when he’d commissioned the window. It was a reminder of the loss.

Rhian this. Rhian that. Rhian was dead.

His audience still faced him, the Evers and Nevers nearly indistinguishable in funereal black, eyes downcast.

After a long while, they quashed their sobs, some Evers shuddering into handkerchiefs, giving way for Rafal to speak.

He began expressionlessly, as if delivering a rote recitation from the Handbook’s student code of conduct. “Today, we are gathered here to remember my br—”

Rafal stopped, his throat suddenly dry. Nothing came out. His voice had caught on a gargantuan lump. He swallowed, then swallowed again, throat bobbing.

“We are here to—”

A student coughed.

The Evers leaned in and peered at him strangely like he was a novelty show.

Not a sound escaped his throat, like a noose had been wrapped around his neck.

The Nevers murmured amongst themselves, concerned.

“Goodbye,” Rafal muttered.

The Nevers stared dumbfounded. That was it? This was what they had slogged over to Good for? All that fuss for nothing?

Rafal stalked off the stage, past Kyma, past the gleaming window.

Humburg rose from his seat and started to waddle forward, stone-faced, but Rafal left too quickly.

Black robes snapping behind him, Rafal strode down the aisle past his Dean, past the gormless, huddled, sniveling, ebony-clad mass of students. They cleaved apart, as if by a knife, clearing a path for him straight to the doors.

He slammed the doors with such force that a deep fissure bloomed from a hairline fracture in the glass floor, riving the assembly room into two down the middle. The doors juddered along with everyone’s skulls.

“…Rhian.” He finished his sentence as the doors settled with a thud.

He took off, heedless, tearing through the fog at breakneck speed without a destination in mind, and nearly impaled himself on a lethal, spiked pinnacle—had Hedadora been right about the birds that day?

He landed on a steeply-angled slope of one of Evil’s turrets, sitting himself on the edge of an eave, cloaked in the shadow of the spire.

The golden light of the sunset did not suit him. It was too warm, too lively. He looked out of place.

A place for everything and everything in its place. Even children recognized the reason embedded in such a statement.

Most things you could find a place for.

First, rearrange, when something new strutted in, and installed itself, intending to take over.

Second, remove, when something old broke, when it was vulnerable and defenseless. Or rendered itself useless and weak.

And third, replace, when there was nothing else to do, when the old thing could no longer fill a gap. Because he had let it break. And it would never return.

Out with the old, in with the new. That’s how the world worked.

And that’s what he’d do. Rearrange, remove, replace.

It would probably take a few generations for each new Dean to die. Or retire.

Then, he’d simply find another.

And another.

And another.

Seeking out replacements was a job he’d never anticipated having to waste his time on. All he could do was continue, wait for another day, and the next, and the next.

Rafal pulled the list out of his pocket. There was only one name he wanted to see. One candidate who would’ve surpassed all the rest. He didn’t want another Dean.

A place for everything and everything in its place.

He balled up the list.

But what if it was the other way around?

What became of a place when it lacked its thing?

He watched the Stymphs, ever his wardens, watching over his new, Good wards. That figure had doubled overnight while another had been halved.

He thought back to the rankings, the spell he’d cast. Why couldn’t other things put themselves in order, slot neatly into place?

The dusk’s frosty, moonlit pallor illuminated the Evers’ castle, which glowed whiter as the sky darkened.

He watched Vulcan’s body sway in the breeze, trussed up in its creaking, rusted cage, threatening to fall, to succumb to the elements. It would, one day. But that was something he could set right.

He stared into his tower window, and there was the Pen, scratching away at another tale.

And through one of the door frames, he glimpsed an empty, undisturbed bed.

There was only one thing not where it should be.

So there he sat, in the cold, refusing to return to his rightful place all through the night.

The wind washed over him, and he remained, cold as a corpse like always, waiting for the darkness to descend.

⸻

Songs I associate with this fic:

"Marche Funèbre" - Chopin

Fits Rafal's internal state, part of the time, when it's plodding and routine. Also, there are some sections that sound outraged.

"Idea 22" - Anya Nami

The lyrics toward the end make me think of the burning rankings:

This second of life

Feels like forever

This world has failed us

So let burn

Let it burn

Let it burn

⸻

Note:

I'd love to know your thoughts, feelings, or reactions!

[popculturegenealogy]

The specter of the genealogist stereotype

In 1982, Peter Andrews wrote in American Heritage that the "stereotype of the genealogist" has been familiar in popular culture, usually a "specific type, easily recognizable and faintly ridiculous," whether an elderly lady examining musty records or a "retired clergyman supplementing his pension." He adds that this meant that genealogy, itself, "carried an air of quackery about it." However, he says this is no longer the case. This is evident in some series I have written about on this blog before, like Amphibia, Infinity Train, Steven Universe, and throughout the recent reboot of Carmen Sandiego, to name a few posts, apart from last week's post reviewing genealogy in the Outlander series. This is not unique to those series, however. After all, as a podcast, BlackGenProLive, “genealogy and history are en vogue in popular culture, largely due to the number of television programs that are themed around the topics,” and noted in FamilyTree, with The Guardian even saying the current family history boom is due to the internet and TV. [1] Genealogy and family history is widespread in popular culture, with some authors, like Juliette Eames, creating customized children's family history books for people! As Thomas Jay Kemp put it in 2013, "you can find references to genealogy everywhere in America these days."

Reprinted from my Genealogy in Popular Culture WordPress blog. Originally published on April 12, 2021.

John D. Beatty of the Allen County Public Library Genealogy Center wrote in 2018 that genealogists before the 1970s especially only played "incidental roles in eccentric, snobby, or dysfunctional veins." He called the famous satirical painting by Grant Wood, Daughters of Revolution, criticizing the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), one of the first "artistic depictions of genealogists," and noted a few other examples prior to the 1970s:

In the 1942 film Castle in the Desert, Professor Gleason, a genealogist with a "moustache and walking stick," arrives at a a mansion of another affuelent man, and he is introduced as a genealogist who will “tell us about the monkeys in our family trees.” He later inquires about a notorious family and the wife of the affulent man gives him a warning, and he died after drinking a cocktail. The message of this film for such a superficial portrayal of a genealogist, is that genealogy is "something that only interested the upper classes and involved the lineages of famous families."

In a 1961 episode of the The Andy Griffith Show, “A Plaque for Mayberry," a town mayor summons a sheriff and his deputy, where they meet two elegantly dressed ladies of a Women’s Historical Society, declaring that they are "attempting to trace the descendant of a Revolutionary War hero, Nathan Tibbs, who had played a pivotal role at the Incident of Mayberry Bridge," which supposedly turned the tide of the war, wanting access to town records. Ultimately, while the genealoists serve only as incidental characters, the view of genealogical research as "a blue-blooded occupation and those who pursue it do so only to find links to prominent forebears" is communicated once more.

In a 1969 film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, James Bond goes undercover as a genealogist in order to "investigate Blofeld’s claims of nobility," and it again promotes a view of "genealogists as effete elitists, a campy profession that attracted only eccentrics."

In a 1969 comedy-drama, The Sterile Cuckoo, Pookie Adams is not a genealogist, but loves cemeteries, taking her boyfriend to a graveyard, extoling the "ability to find stories of the departed by reading their epitaphs." Beatty suggests that this shows that "cemeteries were not places that psychologically-healthy people ever visited."

After 1970, Beatty specifically holds up Roots as shattering the "notion that genealogy was only for the blue-blooded," and says that Alex Haley "embodied a sense of normalcy that had eluded earlier caricatures of genealogists." This is much better than the "magical quality" displayed in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by transphobic J.K. Rowling, with genealogy not explored at length in the film, none of the characters as genealogists, and the family genealogy is only a minor plot device. Contrast this with the controversial film, The Da Vinci Code, in 2006, where genealogical research plays a key role in the film itself,and various popular television shows [2] where ordinary ancestors are discussed. Even though research is often minimized, Beatty argues that these shows "provide some insight into research methodology." He concludes his article by saying that new portrayals reflect a change in genealogy over time, including further professionalization and democratization which makes it more available to the masses, even while he acknowledges no one should expect genealogists to become "commonplace on the silver screen" even if they show up more in television. He then hopes for complex and diverse genealogical characters in the future which are devoid of stereotypes and are problem-solvers.

Not accounting for documentaries with family history themes, like Children of the Inquisition, Birthplace, and August: Osage County as pointed out by Esther of MyHeritage, Helen, in an undated post on her genealogy blog, gives a few examples of genetic genealogy in popular culture:

The TV series Shameless. In a 2011 episode, "Nana Gallagher Had an Affair," an estranged mother tried to get custody of her son, but finds out that her ex-husband, Frank, is the biological father. In a 2016 episode "Own Your Shit," a brother takes another ancestry DNA test, showing that Carl is "part Native American, specifically Apache, securing him a reserved place." Then there's the 2017 episode "Got Bless Her Rotting Soul," where a family friend takes a DNA screening test, finding a "rare chromosomal pattern" which belongs to a fictional, and isolated, community in rural Kentucky.

In a 2018 episodes of the series, A Discovery of Witches, there is a study of genetics of various species, like demons, witches, and vampires, including an explanation of mitochondrial DNA

In a 2018 episode of the series, Bull, "The Missing Piece," a team assists a man after police identify him as a suspect using "investigative genetic genealogy via a match in a for-profit genetic genealogy company's customer database," and he finds out that he was adopted and had an identical twin brother, with the revelation of a twin brother resulting "in all charges against him being dropped."

In a 2018 episode of Blue Bloods, "Thicker Than Water," two detectives investigate an attempted murder after a daughter discovers, using a consumer DNA test that "the doctor is her biological father." Oh no, what a shock! In a later episode of Blue Bloods, "Family Secrets," in 2020, one character is puzzled by an "unknown first cousin match on his paternal side when he does a consumer DNA test for a school assignment."

In the series Grey's Anatomy, there is an episode in 2019, "Blood and Water," where a doctor orders a DNA test to "overcome her fears about her unknown genetic heritage when feeling pressured to have children." In another 2019 episode, "And Dream of Sheep," a co-worker is able to identify the birth mother of his friend using a "first cousin DNA match."

In a 2019 episode of The Good Fight, "The One where a Nazi Gets Punched," a law firm represents plaintiffs in a lawsuit against a "direct-to-consumer (DTC) genetic testing company."

In a 2019 episode of Nancy Drew, "The Hidden Staircase," a co-worker whips out a DNA test from her lock, asking her long-lost cousin for "some of his saliva for a DNA comparison to help her uncover her mother's mysterious past."

In a 2020 episode of Stumptown, "The Past and the Furious," a former marine and current PI, is hired to track down the birth parents of an adoptee.

In a 2020 episode of Vera, "Parent Not Expected," a DCI investigates the death of a young man who had recently found, through a DNA test, that "the man who raised him was not his biological father," with the admin of an online genealogy forum helping people identify their biological fathers.

"The laws governing inheritance are quite unknown; no one can say why the same peculiarity in different individuals of the same species, and in individuals of different species, is sometimes inherited and sometimes not so; why the child often reverts in certain characters to its grandfather or grandmother or other much more remote ancestor; why a peculiarity is often transmitted from one sex to both sexes, or to one sex alone, more commonly but not exclusively to the like sex"- Chapter 1 of The Origin of the Species

On a related note, in 2013, Daisy Hildyard in The Guardian listed ten literary works about ancestors, specifically pointing to Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth, "This Be the Verse" by Philip Larkin, The Rainbow by DH Lawrence, Bleak House by Charles Dickens, On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin, "The Eternity of Nature" by John Clare, Brief Lives by John Aubrey, Henry IV Part I by William Shakespeare, Chronicles by Holinshed, and The Bible. Family history themes are even more widespread than this, however. Noel Murray, in 2015, talked about nine films focusing on family secrets, specifically Little White Lie, Secrets & Lies, A Family Thing, Lone Star, Siskel & Ebert, Capturing the Friedmans, The Celebration, Ida, Daughter from Danang, My Architect, and Stories We Tell. Others have written about genealogy in the realm of theater, of which were are various examples, [3] or noted some of the "most insane families in anime." On the latter, in a post for the Anime News Network, Gia Manry mentioned:

Arcana Famiglia (La storia della Arcana Famiglia), a mafia-style family

The Rozen Maidens (Rozen Maiden), sister dolls

The Ushiromiya Family (Umineko no Naku Koro ni), a huge clan

The Matou Family (Fate/stay night), creators of a system that serves as a central conflict throughout the franchise as a whole

Eastern Europe (Hetalia), composed of personified nations

Britannian Royal Family (Code Geass), has a family history "chock-full of colorful characters, political intrigue, and outrageous deaths"

The Hair Siblings (Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo), siblings fighting over their inheritance to the Hair Kingdom and are totally bonkers

The Ikari Family (Neon Genesis Evangelion), a clan which has a lot of internal family problems

Some others, like BYU Family History, lists family history themes in the White supremacist Back to the Future, and other films, like Lion King, Holes, Star Wars, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Hitch, and Mulan. As one genealogist put it, "genealogy has changed; but yet it has not," with genealogists continuing to seek out "records hidden in courthouse attics and basements."

© 2021-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

Notes

[1] There may be some reviews of popular culture in Christine Scodari’s book Alternate Roots: Ethnicity, Race, and Identity in Genealogy Media, although I’m not sure. But I'll try to get the book and let you know what I think, writing about it on here.

[2] Like Who Do You Think You Are, Genealogy Roadshow, and Finding Your Roots. Some scholars have criticized what they call "selective rememberance" on these TV shows.

[3] In one post, Sydney Orton,talks about family history themes in Ragtime, Bandstand, The Pirate Queen, Miss Saigon, Finding Neverland, Evita, Bonnie & Clyde, Fiddler on the Roof, and Big River. In another post, she focuses on similar themes in Come From Away, 1776, Allegiance, Anastasia, 9 to 5, Les Miserables, Newsies, A Tale of Two Cities, Bright Star, Memphis, West Side Story, Titanic: The Musical, The Sound of Music, and The Civil War.

[fifihunterbakariafrocentric]

A Plaque for Mayberry

[kathyprior4200]

Martha’s Revenge

 Previously on “Murder Family”

 Mrs. Mayberry sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl’s neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. “I love school” was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.

 The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.

 “Oh shit, sweetie!” said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up, Jarold!” A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.

 The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.

 “You scream like a fish!” the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.

 With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.

 Her husband gasped. “Oh god, what have you done?! She had a family!”

 “We could’ve had a family!” the blonde teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

 “Oh god, what have I done?” she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. “In front you all.” She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood.  She spoke her last words through sobs. “I’m so sorry my children. Don’t forget to work on your timestamps.”

 Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry’s body lying next to her husband’s on the blood-stained floor.

  The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.

 “How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?” a newswoman asked.

 “I just hope that sick woman finally found peace,” Martha drawled in her hospital bed.

 Her husband comforted her, head lowered.

 “You are so brave,” the reporter commended to Martha. “Here’s $2 million dollars!”

 The woman’s face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. “Oh thank you!” She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star.

 The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.

 “You’re a hero,” said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.

 “You’re a hero, girl,” admired a brown skinned jogger with short blonde passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.

 “My mama’s a hero!” declared the son.

 “She is a hero!” The brown haired casher agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.

 “Ooooh…You’re a hero!” moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under “local hero” headings.

 “You’re a hero,” smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.

 Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, “You’re a hero!” to Martha when she taught a “How to deal with trauma 101 class.”

 “Oh you’re a hero!” another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.

  “That’s gotta be her,” Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. “This is too easy.” He looked over at Moxxie. “Moxxie, do you want this one?”

 Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. “Me?”

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle. It’s just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.”

 Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig’s head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other’s noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand.

 “You snooze you lose, Mox!” Blitzo called out.

 He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha’s face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.

 “And I’ve got you, bitch,” Blitzo murmured.

 “Wait, are we actually killing a family?!” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “No, don’t be a puss, we’re just killing a mother,” Blitzo remarked. “We’re running a family.” He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.

 “But…” Moxxie began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.

 “What was that, Ralphie?” Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.

 Ralphie shook his head. “I don’t know Martha, but whatever it is…”

 He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.

 “They’re gonna be tomorrow night’s dinner!”

 Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.

 “Alright, kids! Guns out!” She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.

 “Looks like we’ve got some rabbits to catch, youngins!” Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.

 A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.

 “A new hole!” Blitzo cried in terror. “Scatter!”

 Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child’s hand grabbed Moxxie’s pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.

 Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.

 “There you go, little critter!” Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. “Y’all can’t hide long from me!”

 Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.

 Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie’s face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.

 Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. “Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren’t you cute?”

 The children spoke in low distorted voices:

 “It’s nice to have a new critter to play with.”

 Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with “bless this mess” stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.

 Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. “Aw. Crumbs.”

 Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha’s evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.

 “I know you’re hurtin’, little devil,” drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.

 Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.

 “I promise that I can make that pain go real quick.”

 Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. “Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!”

 Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.

   Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha’s gun.

 “Got ya!” she grinned. Bltzo’s phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.

 “So, you’re a little devil, huh?” she asked, a wide grin. “Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!”

 She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. “Gonna send y’all back where ya came from!”

 She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.

 Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.

 “Millie!”

 The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A “Live, Laugh, Love” sign and a hangman’s noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.

 A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.

 Blitzo groaned in frustration. “I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie.”

 “Satan!” Martha declared. “We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!” She raised her torch. “May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!”

 Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…

 …leaving the imps unscathed.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, lady,” Blitzo explained. “Sorry, your fire doesn’t really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He smirked and Millie giggled.

 “Oh. Shit.” Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

 Then she got a better idea and grinned. “Well, I’ll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!” She held her rifle in her hands.

 “That would be more effective,” Blitzo mentioned.

 “Blitzo!” Millie spat.

 Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.

 A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha’s eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.

  Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father’s arms in a corner.

 “Don’t move!” Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.

 Ralphie chucked. “What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?”

 “I should!” Moxxie replied, stepping back. “You people are monsters!” Then he lowered the rifle. “But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly.”

 He picked up a remote from a stand. “I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way.”

 He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.

 “Oh shit,” he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.

 “Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?”

 “Yeah, it’s in the kitchen,” Ralphie mentioned behind him.

 Moxxie held the remote. “Then what’s this for?”

 “It’s a universal remote,” Ralphie replied. “Got it for the kids.” The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.

 “Aww,” Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.

 He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.

  Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.

 A voice over a loudspeaker said, “We got em’ boys!”

 A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.

 ***

 Hell, Pentagram City

Mrs. Mayberry

October 31st 2020, morning of Murder Family

 Mrs. Mayberry woke up staring at a crimson red sky. Her form had completely changed… Mrs. Mayberry was now a purple demon with stripped curved horns on her head, wearing rectangular glasses. She wore a pale red shirt with x stitches on it, along with an eye where her pendant was on her chest. Her hair was long and white and pulled back with a black bandana. She wore a dark skirt with an upside down cross on it and heels. She also had sharp yellow teeth.

 After finding a place to live and shying out of sight from shady strangers, Mrs. Mayberry had the chance to continue her career where she left off. So she did. It took some learning and adaptation to Hell’s culture but fortunately...it was pretty simple.

 Mrs. Mayberry was soon hired at “Pentagram Penitentiary Place,” one of the top public schools in the district. It was a large school for grades K-12. The name of the school was in black letters surrounded by a red downward facing pentagram over the black front doors. “All grades in one place!” read the slogan. The building was of red-orange brick with three rows of low cracked windows facing the front. The outdoor playground consisted of rusted basketball hoops, a jungle gym, dark asphalt and a swing set that made squeaky sounds every time it was used. The slide was high up and made of metal, so that it was always painfully hot for the young demon children to slide down. A barbed wire fence with swirls of wire at the top surrounded the prison-like school.

 A bunch of middle schoolers were bouncing a demon skull around and tossing it into the basketball hoops. Little preschooler demons rough-housed on the grass-less ground, laughing. One small green dragon kept making burping sounds, emitting orange sparks much to the delight of his peers.  A dinosaur used his tail for a black eyed doll girl to use as a jump rope. There was even a little scary-go round that furry bird-like kids went on to test their flying and spin out of control in the air. One white bird crashed against the fence and slid down with a flop.

 “Loser!” taunted a bulky blue cyclops kid wearing a baseball cap. He spat on the bird’s upside-down head and laughed with his goons. An older demon with a rhino’s horn was spray-painting teal blue penises on the walls.

 “Watch your back!” he called out to a centaur who fired an arrow from a bow, startled. The green lizard demon tied to the target glanced down at the arrow that had almost gotten him in the crotch. He sighed with relief, only to have an ax lodged into his head, thrown by an orange goat teenager.

 Nearby were two purple demons with silvery snake hair sitting on a concrete window ledge, wearing blouses, sequined navy skirts and shoes. They were listening to music from their Eye-Pods. One of them was painting her nails and the other took a drag from an e-cigarette. Every kid had a multiple digit number temporarily tattooed on their necks. An E, an M and an H were before the numbers, for elementary, middle and high school. The following number indicated their grade and the last two numbers were their position in alphabetical order. K or a P next to the E stood for kindergarten and preschool.

 A loud buzzer rang at the top of the roof, signaling class starting. The children were lined up in front of their respective teachers. Mrs. Mayberry stood in front of her line of preschool demons.

 After singing a song about a demonic turtle drowning in a bathtub with the class, she counted each child as they made their way to homeroom. They all filled in and sat at their wooden desks. The demonic alphabet was listed on a nearby poster with translations into English and other languages.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Mayberry trilled in the windowless classroom, scrapping her chalk against the blackboard before catching it with a twirl. “I hope you all did your homework.”

 The kids fearfully nodded.

 “Hmm, I don’t think you did, EP-04,” she scolded a demon boy wearing an orange shirt with no paper in front of him. “Go sit in time-out.”

 The boy groaned and sat on a stool facing the wall. The white dunce cap burned on his head.

 “The pledge of allegiance,” Mrs. Mayberry led. The class stood up with their hands on their hearts.

 “I pledge allegiance and my soul to the banner

Of His Majesty Lucifer and Her Majesty Lilith

And to the unholy Inferno

For Pentagram City

One nation under Satan

Indivisible

With liberty and chaos for all!”

 They sat back down.

 “Now let’s sing,” Mrs. Mayberry ordered.

 The demonic class broke out into song:

 “We love to do our homework and learn stuff every day.”

 “And when I throw in these hard questions, you should know just what to say,” Mrs. Mayberry sang.

 “Okay!” they cheered.

 She wrote an equation on the board. “Divide this number by…”

 “Zero!”

 “Our favorite paint is…”

 “Bloody red!”

 “And when there’s a stranger danger…”

 “You stab them in the head!” they answered, making stabbing motions with their arms.

 “A poison for a deep sleep?” she asked.

 “Wormwood! Does no good!”

 “The geological components of Hell?”

 “Fire and brimstone!” added a girl.

 “If you can’t use love…”

 “Use hate!”

 “Now it’s time for us to say the day and date.”

 “Your death day was on January 8th, right?” piped up a boy in the back.

 Mrs. Mayberry stopped short. “Hush up! We don’t mention that date.” She turned to the class. “Go on.”

 “It’s 3 in the afternoon…” said a boy.

 “On October 31st,” said a green girl.

 “Hell’s heat is still hot,” said another girl, sweating.

 “Let’s watch the episode first!” reminded the dunce boy.

 The demons went “la la la” as Mrs. Mayberry stared at the board, red eyes wide.

 “Oh my suns! Stop singing children. Shut up!”

 The demons fell silent.

 “I forgot it’s the new episode! I’m supposed to be off to pursue my revenge!”

 “Maybe you could scare your enemies at a death-day party!” a girl suggested with her hands up in the air.

 Mrs. Mayberry looked at her hell-phone and saw the last seconds of an I.M.P. commercial. She stood up to walk away.

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry,” said a girl, taking hold of her hand. “Remember what you taught us. Act before you think.”

 Mrs. Mayberry pat her head. “I think not. Work on your timestamps and assignments, children. I’m off to pursue a little education of my own.”

 A horn-covered sub man walked in and bellowed, “200 pushups on the double! Or it’s back to your cells!”

 The demons got up from their seats and bent down to do the pushups.

 Mrs. Mayberry called a taxi outside and it drove her off.

 Up on a screen outside her window, Mrs. Mayberry saw a full commercial where she learned of an assassination company called I.M.P.

 “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent and I’m the funder of I.M.P.! Are you a piece of shit that got sent to Hell? Or are you an innocent soul who just so happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next shot showed a bulky red demon with horns, wearing a white Ohio shirt/jersey. A sign read, “Some guy who hired us!” The demon spoke:

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you could imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the State of Ohio killed me.” He rammed his meaty fists. “I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!”

 “Guess I’m not the only one who murdered my spouse,” she thought. “I’ve also never seen a guy with…such muscles before…”

 Blitzo appeared again. “Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…we promise to take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!”

 The sounds of the imp jingle motivated Mrs. Mayberry as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the I.M.P. building. She got out, climbed up the stairs and knocked on the office door. It opened and out popped Blitzo.

 “Is this I.M.P.?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Blitzo said.

 “I figured, since I saw the commercial. I have one bad bitch that needs to be killed. And I’ve got a lot to say.”

 “Well, come on in then,” he said.

 Mrs. Mayberry paced Blitzo’s office at I.M.P. headquarters as she told her story.

  “I was a good person before it all went down,” she narrated, pacing to and fro. “I was good my entire life.”

 She continued on, adding details about her personal life. She held a cigarette in her hand. Apparently, it was easy to get into unhealthy habits in Hell.

 “You do everything right in life, play by the rules, and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world. After one measly massacre propelled by blind rage. So that’s why I’m here. To get my revenge.”

 “I mean was she hotter?” Blitzo remarked with a smirk.

 The demon’s eyes flared red in anger, her face partially in shadow by the drawn blinds. A lemon tree was in the background with a sign that read “no whores” beside it. Blitzo casually lounged in his office chair.

 “I’m just saying I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama you just spat at me, tits,” Blitzo chuckled.

 Mayberry growled and her body briefly glowed red. Her cigarette bent in her hand.

 Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Anyway I don’t think you quite understand how we’re operating down here.” He stood up and Mrs. Mayberry glared at him. “You see we take revenge on the living and it sounds like the core cast of your sitcom of a death frankly are all probably down here in Hell with you. Boop.”

 He bonked her on the nose.

 Mayberry’s pointed tail twitched, her purple claws clenched. Her skirt was torn with holes and her feet were cloven hooves. This imp guy was worse than the demonic children she taught.

 Mayberry extended her left claws. “Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero.”

 She continued. “Between the talk shows and bullshit donations she made so much goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing to happen to her.”

 Mayberry bashed her fists into the ground, creating cracks. “She’s not a hero!” Mayberry yelled, getting in close to Blitzo’s face.

 “Yeah, okay, yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Blitzo stuttered in a rapid nervous voice. He frantically pressed a red button under the desk multiple times. The red light flashed under the “Deranged Client” label on a dashboard. The other labels read, “More Coffee,” “Soiled My Pants,” “Horny Client,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Ghost,” and “Stolas.”

 Blitzo later burst through the door, followed by Mrs. Mayberry. “Guys, I’d like you to meet, our newest client!”

 The room suddenly burst into flames…Blitzo was furious. He quickly led Mrs. Mayberry outside where she hopped into a taxi to wait back home.

 “Bye and don’t worry,” called Blitzo to her, “We’ll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!”

 She could only hope that crazy imp and his team could do their job.

 As it turned out, Mrs. Mayberry later found out that not only had I.M.P. killed Martha, they also killed her crazy Satanic family. Mrs. Mayberry was very impressed. She held a piece of cake and laughed with the I.M.P. members for a special celebration. Millie talked about how it was okay to kill someone if they tried to kill you back.

 “That’s messed up,” mentioned Mrs. Mayberry. Then she smiled. “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone laughed again. Mrs. Mayberry felt good among her new allies. She had embraced her past at last.

 After the celebration, she got back into the taxi but instead of heading home, she headed further into town.

 There was a red Ohio demon for her to thank.

  Hell, Pentagram City

Martha

Sometime after Murder Family

  Blood red sky. Thin clouds the color of smoke. A giant spinning pentagram hovering in the sky above buildings. A figure slowly got up from the street, stretching their arms and legs, looking around. They slowly got up and looked at their reflection in a window.

 Martha’s eyes glowed fiery red as she stared at her new form. Magenta red colored skin and messy thick white hair extending down along her back. A curved piece of white hair covering her missing right eye, which was covered by a red X, like the X on Vaggie. Long slender fingers with sharp black nails. A row of sharp white teeth and pointed horns on her head. Her feet were now cloven hooves and she had a long pointed tail. Succubus bat wings extended from her back…she was now a succubus demon.

 In addition, she was wearing the same clothes she had worn when she died: torn dark pants, a belt with a skull on it and matching skull earrings. She wore her torn up white bra with little red hearts on it. She also wore red heels fitted onto her feet that somehow didn’t make her lose balance. Her bracelets around her arm were red, with small glowing pentagrams on it. She wore red lipstick.

 Not too far away, Martha saw bodies stirring from the sleep of death. There was a man slowing getting up with two kids.

 “Ralphie?” she asked, peering closer. Her feet made soft clopping sounds as her heels made contact with the cracked asphalt.

 Ralphie opened his large orange eyes. He had still retained his muscular build from when he was alive, even wearing similar jeans and a torn plaid shirt that was now red instead of orange. His skin was dark gray like a wolf’s and he, too, had a row of sharp teeth. He had beefy arms with fur on them, even having pointed wolf ears as well. Having wolf-like traits, he appeared very much like a hunter. A hunter for his mistress.

 Standing up, he rammed his thick fist into a nearby demon, sending the creature into a nearby brick wall. He snatched up the critter’s rifle and tested it in his hands.

 “Mama? Papa?” asked two little voices.

 Ralphie looked down and gasped. “Kids! You’re alright!”

 The formerly white boy was now a small beaver demon, still wearing his shirt, pants and beaver skin hat. His stripped beaver tail had small spikes on it. His sister was wearing her skirt and leggings but this time, she had light pink skin, her two orange pigtails now small living snakes on her head.

 “Chuck! Ebony!” Martha cried, embracing her little creature children.

 “I knew you’d always be my hero,” Chuck said, straightening his furry cap and backing up along with his sister. “You can live through anything!” His eyes glinted with mischief like a raccoon getting into trouble.

 Chuck then paused. “Wait, where are we? Are we…dead? I don’t feel dead.”

 “This must be an afterlife,” Ralphie said, scratching his hairy chin.

 Martha took in the bustling city filled with demons, the area bathed in a crimson light. The essences of trapped sinners who had died, peered at the group in the forms of eyes from the walls. Her grin spread across her face and she spread out her arms.

 “Not just any afterlife…this is Satan’s domain!”

 “Hail Satan,” the kids chimed together after a moment.

 “We’re in Hell?!” Ralphie exclaimed. “I…I can’t remember what happened. I was holding you two, I heard a loud thunderous boom…our whole house shook like a twister was ripping it apart. And then there was this flash of light, a searing heat and…”

 He seized up at the recent painful memory. The kids hugged their father again, Martha running her hand through his matted gray fur on his head. The girl sniffled a bit.

 He examined the wandering demons around him, with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t believe I’m still alive, I think. If this is Hell… I thought the creatures would look more red and horny.”

 He looked at his wife who titled her head. “Um…besides you. I mean, where are the pitchforks and fire?”

 Martha walked over to him, a small sway of her hips. “Ya think I’m horny, huh? I think I had some ideas about what I could do with my horns…someplace.” She gave him a wink and Ralphie smirked. The kids stuck out their tongues and made sounds of disgust.

 “Well, first of all, we need to find a place to stay,” Ralphie said. “I have a feelin’ this city ain’t too friendly around newcomers. He held his gun and clicked it a few times.

 “But where would we go?” Martha asked. “If our savior Satan were here, he could help us. And we obviously cannot go back to our original home.”

 “Let’s take shelter in the woods,” Ralphie said. “We’ll find some game to hunt and continue our previous routine.”

 “Let’s get going,” Martha said. She led the way, followed by her husband, who held his children’s hands. The boy’s beaver tail trailed along behind him.

 “Look,” called a voice coming from a slender red goat woman with her friends. “Is that Martha?”

 Martha spun around. “How’d you know my name?”

 “Everyone knows who you are,” she said, a shine in her eyes. “You’re our hero!”

 Martha put on her most charming smile. “You bet I am! Still a survivor even after that sick woman tried to kill me.”

 “I remember you donating to the church back on Earth,” said the goat. “I wanted to meet you in person but instead I met Covid 19 beforehand. But now…here I am, in front of my idol!”

 She let out a squee like a fangirl and eagerly shook Martha’s claw.

 “It’s very nice to meet you,” said Martha.

 “You’re new here, right? Hell can be pretty dangerous. I’ll give you some money and a place to live, how about that?”

 “Oh thank you!” Martha beamed innocently, pleased to have allies even in Hell.

  A few weeks later, the four family members were settled in a house very similar to their previous one, next to the woods by a lake of lava. Ralphie hunted demonic animals for their dinners and gave miniature guns to the kids. It was surprisingly simple to get weapons in Hell (sadly, angelic weapons were too expensive, even for them.)

 Martha’s fame on Earth made her recognizable in Hell, by friend and foe alike. She and her family made it known that they were not to be messed with. Just one aim from their guns was enough to get other demons to back off. Martha was back in business, sometimes hosting a cooking show with Jeffery the serial killer. She became a fan favorite and a Satanic cult leader. Now instead of just her family supporting cannibalism and dark rituals, Martha had other allies on her side as well. The more allies she made, the more money came in. The family bought new clothes made from the skins of animals, demons and on rare cases, humans.

 The two children relaxed on the couch, staring at an old TV, complete with knobs on the right side. A universal remote was between them, the buttons resembling a face. They were currently watching a show in black and white: “Buck Dynasty!” popped up in slanted white letters as old-time preppy music played. The scene cut to a moving forest where a lone stag was walking through the snow.

 “There’s the fine specimen, a white-tailed deer calmly grazing over there,” a man’s voice whispered from a distance. He listed off some hunting tips such as using the wind and distance to eliminate scent. “The best way to stalk is by moving slowly and reducing unnecessary body motions.”

 “The easiest times to hunt deer are the rut, or breeding time, which usually occurs during late summer or early fall.”  

 A diagram of a deer’s anatomy popped up on screen, showing the ideal places to shoot them. An arrow pointed to a spot behind the deer’s shoulder, one-fourth up from the belly.

 The scope hovered near the shoulder area as the scene grew quiet. The man took a deep breath with focus, using the pad of his index finger to pull the trigger…

 The stag stumbled and dropped to the white ground shortly after the loud blast was heard. The kids watched in amusement.

 The man posed behind the fallen animal, grabbing the antlers and displaying a bright white smile. He had dark skin, short hair, glasses and wore a simple white vest with a bow tie. His pants and boots were dark.

 “Deery me, that was a good one! I seem to remember Bambi’s mother suffering a similar fate many winters ago. Not a fawn experience for him, I’m sure.”

 Audience laughter followed and the boy chuckled.

 “Those jokes are so lame,” Ebony rolled her eyes.

 The next clips showed the man hauling the carcass into a truck and field dressing it to preserve the meat.

 “Get it to a processor soon, or if you’re skilled enough in skinning, get started sooner rather than later,” he said, a cigar briefly in his mouth. “I know I’ve made my share of mistakes when hunting, but practice makes polished. No, not perfect because let’s face it, no one’s perfect in this world. Once you’ve got that nice fresh venison, you can use it in many different dishes. I personally love adding it to jambalaya for Mardi Gras. Nothing like a tasty classic to excite your taste buds!”

 “How does this show even exist?” the girl asked her father when he came in.

 Ralphie just shrugged his shoulders. “Just one of those random classics that I enjoy from time to time.”

 A colored commercial came on, advertising Vox’s Voot Floop cereal. A teal blue box showed blue circles of sugared cereal bits falling into a bowl as electronic music played in the background. Vox’s robotic voice came on: “The sugary sensation of the modern nation! Only $666! Box also comes with a free mini Vox figure inside. Collect all three V figures, today!”

 “Mom, can we get that cereal too?” the boy asked. “I want that Vox figure.”

 “Too damn expensive,” Martha called out.

 “I can get it for ya Chuck,” Ralphie said.

 “Thanks dad,” said Chuck.  

 The next ad showed a strip club and Valentino posing with two of his female clients, Dia and Summer. Angel Dust was pole dancing in the background; behind him was a glowing pink spider web with a heart in the center. Groovy electronic music played as the women’s hands stroked the pimp’s purplish skin. A box of cigarettes was shown on screen, surrounded by smoky pink hearts. “Feel the love and rush, with Valentin Vapors.” Valentino’s eyes twinkled under his pink heart sunglasses.

 Another commercial came on, this one displaying a revolving dollhouse with a land made of candy in the background. Stitched up dolls in velvet fabric were shown being played with by smiling demon girls. A music-box tune played as one of the dolls held a lollipop in one hand and a little plastic knife in the other. The plastic heads of the dolls moved from side to side at the push of a button. The toy dolls sat at a table with a set of teacups in front of them and a multicolored toy castle nearby. “Velvet’s Tea Party!” was displayed in glittery pink letters on the screen. “Free shipping on your order when you like and subscribe to Lady Velvet’s profiles!”  

 “Oooh!” Ebony smiled in delight, pointing at the screen. “I want one of those Velvet dolls for Christmas!”

 Martha smiled. “Maybe Krampus can get one for you…that is, if you behave.”

 “I don’t want him to punish us,” Chuck said with a worried look.

 “Ah, you’ll all be fine,” said their father. “Christmas is only a month or so away!”

 For the next few minutes, the siblings fought over who would control the remote.

 “I wanna watch Buck Dynasty!” Chuck said.

 “No, it’s mine!” cried Ebony. “Fizztastic Circus is on and Robo Fizz is gonna do his grand act in Loo-Loo Land!”

 “Mine!”

 “It’s mine! Let go!”

 Martha stepped in and turned off the television, the white circle shrinking into black.

 “It’s time to go to bed, kids,” she said.

 “Awww,” they groaned.

 “None of that. You guys have school tomorrow.”

  The next day, Ralphie took the children to school: Pentagram Penitentiary Place. Chuck and Ebony got their school supplies, got in the car and Ralphie took them to the brick building.

 “Have a good day,” Ralphie smiled. “And make sure you behave yourselves.”

 “Yes papa!” they called out, waving goodbye as the car drove off.

 They headed into the classroom and took their seats across from each other. A purple colored demon with white hair and glasses stood at the front.

 “Good morning!”

 “Good morning Ms. Mayberry!” the students chimed.

 After doing some addition, writing and reading, the demon children spread out in the room.

 Ms. Mayberry led a song and dance. The children curled up on the floor, pretending to be asleep.

 “Lots of little demons were sleeping on a rock

In the fiery pits of Hell”

 The children slowly stood up.

 “They lifted up their heads

And shook out their tails…”

 The children shook their heads, butts and tails.

 “And they said, ‘let’s go killing.’”

 The music sped up as she sang, “Let’s go killing, let’s go killing.” The demon kids screamed and danced and got into wild fights with their classmates. Ebony choked another demon girl and laughed in childish delight.

 “Yeah let’s go killing, in the flames of Hell.”

 The music slowed down.

 “Then the little demons got very, very tired

“That they came back to the rock

They put down their heads

And they put down their tails

And then took a little nap.”

 The children pretended to yawn and slowly went back onto the floor. They curled up into balls and pretended to sleep.

 The music paused, then started up louder again at the next verse.

 “And when they woke up

They were a little bit bored

So they took a shower.”

 The children pretended to wash different parts of their bodies.

 “And they washed their ears

And they washed their tummies.

And they brushed their teeth

And they washed their spines and tails

And they washed their toes.

And then they said, (the children stopped and spread out their hands and repeated what was next.)

‘Wait a minute! We’re demons! We don’t take showers!’”

 The music sped up again as Ms. Mayberry sang, “Let’s go killing, let’s go killing, yeah, let’s go killing.” The children ran around the room, bashing other’s heads, biting and causing a real ruckus.

 “Yeah let’s go killing, in the flames of Hell.”

 The music slowed down and again, the children pretended to fall asleep on the floor.

 “Then the little demons got very, very tired

“That they came back to the rock

They put down their heads

And they put down their tails

And then took a little nap.”

 Princess Charlie peered into the room for a visit, pleased to see the children laughing and having fun.

 “And when they woke up,

They decided to spread kindness.”

 The demon children stood up and danced together. They gave each other hugs and pretended to say nice things. “I love you.” “You’re a wonderful person.”

“Let’s bake cupcakes.”

 Charlie’s eyes welled with happy tears as she watched the sight.

 “And so they gave each other hugs

And they did chores

And they sang songs

And they gave each other gifts

And said nice things

And then they said,

‘Wait a minute! We’re demons!’”

 Charlie’s face paled and her smile fell, mouth open in a gasp.

 The class all declared: “’We don’t play nice! Let’s go killing!’”

 Charlie covered her mouth as blood sprayed everywhere. She ducked as a chair smashed against the wall. The song continued on. She brushed tears from her eyes, left behind a Happy Hotel flier and left.

 After class, Ebony found a lone picture of Ms. Mayberry in her human form lying on the desk. She slipped it into her backpack and followed her brother out the classroom door. She was thankful not to have to scrub toilets or run laps like many older kids.

 Ralphie picked them up and they headed back home. Martha arrived through the front door not long after.

 “How was work, honey?” Ralphie asked, licking his wife on the cheek.

 “Marvelous!” she exclaimed. “I helped perform five sacrifices to Satan today. I was named in a magazine as “the next potential priestess of the Satanic temple.” The services went by smoothly and we even raised money for the homeless.” She was hiding the fact that she had been showing off her cleavage to another male cult member on her break.

 “That’s marvelous,” Ralphie said. “Even in this hellhole, you still do great things.”

 “Hey, look what we found!” Ebony said. She took out the picture of Ms. Mayberry and handed it over to Martha. “I think our teacher drew a human.”

 The kids ran off.

 Martha’s red eyes narrowed as she examined it closely.

 “I know that woman…”

 Martha had seen her…flashbacks of an angry Mrs. Mayberry shooting wildly at her after making out with Jarold. Then she thought back to her death and the imps that had been sent after her.

 Martha spoke in a low voice, almost to herself. “That sick woman…of course she’d be down here in Hell. She’d do anything to get in my way, after my casual fling with her lover.”

 She hovered a claw over the picture. “Could she have something to do with those filthy creatures sent to kill my family?”

 Martha seethed and the picture in her hand burst into flames, ash falling to the floor. Her form glowed with an evil, red aura. Sooner or later, she was going to find those bastard imps and give them literal hell to pay.

 And for Mrs. Mayberry? The old widow would be vilified by everyone in the city. Then she would die alone, alone and painfully without any lover or children to comfort her. Martha thought she would make a great offering to Satan.

 The dark pink succubus let out a crazed determined laugh. “Not today, Satan, not today!”

Hell, Pentagram City

“Some Guy”

2021

 The Buckeyes were playing at a large black coffin-shaped basketball stadium, more specifically the Rottenstein Stadium. The beefy red-skinned demon who had killed his cheating wife and died by the electric chair, used to play for the Ohio men’s basketball team in Columbus, Ohio on Earth. He had hired I.M.P. to kill the person who had alerted the police when he hid the body. Did they accomplish their mission? He didn’t know.

 “Hey Mando, over here!” called a voice. The red buff demon caught the basketball from his scaly cyclops teammate just in time. He dribbled it down the black wooden court, wearing his white jersey with “Ohio” on it in red letters. His white sneakers squeaked as he dashed across the floor. The cheers of the crowd and the sports announcer discussing the game motivated him on. Only ten seconds left…

 “Outta my way!” he roared as a bunch of hunched wolves in blue jerseys tried to close in. His rows of four sharp teeth were visible. Mando maneuvered the ball quickly between the palms of his hands, dodging the gray arms trying to reach for it. His bulky body did its job in knocking his opponents back. Seeing no clear path toward his teammates, he decided to keep going. With as much strength as he could muster, Mando leaped up and tossed the ball with both hands. The ball soared in a high arc toward the hanging hoop on a wooden casket…

 And by a stroke of luck, it fell right through just as the buzzer sounded. Mando stood up and cheered with his teammates as the zombie coach blew the whistle nearby. The scoreboard read Buckeyes 99, Wolverines 96. A crowd of demons wearing red and white held up signs that read “Go Buckeyes!” “Bullseye for Buckeyes!” One mascot was dressed like an eye with antlers arching along the top. The wolverine team of werewolves howled in disappointment.

 “Yeah!” Mando grinned as he spun the basketball with one of his fingers. “Down go the doggos!”

 “Nice shot, man!” complimented the cyclops teammate. “At this rate, we’ll be able to face off against the Bee-zelbubs and the Dragons in no time.” Mando took several deep breaths and wiped his face with a nearby cloth. He gulped down an entire can of Monster energy drink before following his teammates to the locker rooms. After washing up, the large demon smashed a hole for himself through the wall near the stadium entrance and headed down the street. Streetlamps shaped like eyes at the top and held together with bones, flickered above him. He snatched a beer from an unsuspecting demon and guzzled some of it. He let out a loud burp, sending other demons scattering.

 The red demon took out his Eye-Pod and listened to some rock music with rap lyrics. Another song had the vocals of Lilith backed up by her group of performers. He even bobbed his head to “Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow” and the I.M.P. Jingle. Although he wasn’t that much into musicals, he could see why so many in Hell loved them.

 He saw a poster of I.M.P. and glared like a snorting bull. He hadn’t heard anything back from them yet ever since the time he appeared on their commercial. What was taking so long? He hadn’t even gotten his check yet because according to another I.M.P. billboard, it took several weeks to arrive by mail. (He did get a pile of meat and a small bag of money but it wasn’t the same.) Anger boiled up inside him, it took all his effort not to punch the nearest building or demon.

 Wrath had been Mando’s main sin, no doubt. As soon as he leaned that his wife had been having sex with the local delivery man, he lost all control and beat her to death. Then, of course, a jogger had spotted him trying to hide the body in a park and alerted the police. He was sent to jail and then died by the electric chair. He hadn’t forgiven those in his life…not even himself. At least he somewhat had lived up to his father’s expectations for him to be a star athlete.

 He stared in disgust at a magazine depicting a blonde demon wearing revealing black underwear barely covering her exposed butt and standing by a mailbox. “Your Special Delivery!” was written in bold letters at the top. Mando blew fire from his mouth and the magazine crumpled to ash. He sighed and continued on.

 Why did his wife have to cheat on him behind his back? It was natural instinct to become jealous and illogical after finding out your lover was unfaithful. Apparently, she had said the delivery man was charming, generous with letters and “free of any anger issues.” She had emphasized that last part much to his disdain.

 Mando lived a lonely life in an old apartment in the Ring of Wrath, the same district where Moxxie and Millie lived. The district was full of fire, poverty, angry people and fights on boats over the River Styx. He was glad he was not one of the unlucky wailing souls trapped beneath the water. Hell was like Chicago but with monsters and magic. His bedroom was small and cramped, with basketball posters on the walls and sets of lifting weights.

  But Mando wasn’t ready to go home to annoying side neighbors and cigarette filled rooms. The exercise had made him hungry. He smiled and spotted a nearby café, the sign in the shape of a white bat up on the top. The top had an awning that looked like part of a torn up circus flap.

 A guy with glasses and shaped like a purple serpent held the door open for the buff demon. His shoulders and belly got stuck on the way in. He first tried to stuff his way in, to no avail. He growled in anger, even as the purple guy said, “back up, sir.” Mando punched the glass doors, making them shatter, while also knocking the purple guy aside.

 “Table for one!” Mando said, barging in and staring at the frightened blue fish server. A black neon cat holding a saxophone in a corner looked at the blue fish with concern but the blue server smiled, saying “I’ve got this one.”

 “Right this way, sir,” the fish said, opening the door as wide as he could for the red demon to strut outside. He found a larger chair at a table to support his weight and sat down. The server placed a dish of deviled eggs onto the table as Mando glanced at the menu. He popped a few into his mouth as he admired the garden and pavilion. A black iron fence separated the area from the street. There were rose bushes nearby as well and a few ravens were pecking scraps of food from the grass.

 Mando finished his plate and was about to leave.

 Then, his eyes spotted a random beauty sitting at an adjacent table.

 She was a purple demon with long white hair who was drinking a cup of tea. A clipboard with a piece of paper labeled “lesson plans” was in front of her. She was wearing a torn black shirt that reached the lower part of her legs and a reddish shirt with stitches on it. She had curved horns, a black bandanna and a red upside down cross on her skirt. Her large red eyes met his with a brief glare before turning away. A cigarette dangled from her mouth.

 Mando took a deep breath and decided to say hello, just to give it a shot. He stood up from his chair and made his way over to the table. He sat down across from her, fiddling with his black spiked bracelets. The woman looked at him again, a look of confusion from her face.

 “Can I help you?”

 “Uh, just wanted to say hi and stuff.”

 “Well then, hi.”

 There was an awkward silence that stretched out for a moment.

 “Sorry, I guess I’ll just leave,” the red demon began but she said, “wait.”

 The woman peered at him closely, fingers up to her chin. “You look familiar. I think I saw your face on that I.M.P. commercial.”

 “You know about I.M.P.?” Mando asked.  

 “Of course,” she said. She held out her hand. “I’m Ms. Mayberry. Some still call me Mrs. Mayberry but that’s unnecessary since, you know, that time…”

 She trailed off, her face briefly turning pink. “Sorry, getting off topic.” Their hands met for a handshake, Mayberry’s lavender hand small within the red demon’s palm.

 “I don’t recall my human name. My peers call me Mando. Not sure why.”

 More silence.

 “So,” Mando said scratching his chin, “You were saying you know I.M.P.?”

 Mayberry held her cigarette in one hand. “Yes. I found them after watching the ad. Walked up to their headquarters in Imp City and talked business with their leader.”

 “Oh? You hired them too? How’d it go?”

 The woman smiled with sharp teeth. “They did their job well. They traveled to the living world to kill my husband’s whore. Ended up killing her whole family.”

 Mando grinned and chuckled. “My, my! You must’ve been satisfied after that.”

 “I guess you could say that. I remember you saying you…killed your wife, right?”

 Mando nodded, cracking his knuckles. “Yeah she was asking for it.”

 Mrs. Mayberry briefly seethed, hiding her fear. “If you even think about…”

 Mando backed up, holding out his hands, “No, no, no, I’m not gonna hurt you, ma’am. I might have a bad temper but I can still control it…sometimes.”

 A red aura glowed around Mayberry and Mando gulped. The glow faded away.

 “Anyway…yeah I hired I.M.P. to go after a person who saw me hiding her body. Haven’t heard back from them yet. I’d like to see that guy’s head in front of me if possible. What did you do next?”

 “Well, I obviously hired I.M.P. to go kill Martha. And it worked out well, like I said.”

 Mando beamed, his black eyes shining. “What a coincidence for us to have so much in common! This is wonderful!”

 Mrs. Mayberry had to smile herself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, yet. I do need some time to collect my thoughts.” She inhaled smoke from her cigarette and exhaled.

 Mando leaned slightly back. “As do I. I completely understand.”

 “Do you though? You’re not a school teacher who murdered her husband in front of your schoolchildren. And then took your own life.”

 Mando visibly winced at that. “I…I’m so sorry. Then again, you’re not a former basketball player who died in an electric chair after being caught. I didn’t get to choose how I died.”

 Mayberry’s face showed a hint of kindness. “That must’ve been hard as well. But strangely enough, I.M.P. brought us together.”

 Mando laughed. “Yeah, who would’ve thought that would ever happen!”

 After that, the two of them were content to just sit quietly drinking their drinks and eating various snacks. Their conversation became more light-hearted.

 “Yeah I know I.M.P.s not perfect,” said Mando, “You should’ve seen Blitzo’s misspellings on the billboard. ‘Come to I Am Pee?!’ No wonder their business has been slow.”

 Both of them laughed out loud.

 “That imp can be annoying. He should come to my spelling classes,” Mayberry giggled.

  “But I’m willing to give them another chance…for you.”

 “You still don’t know me well,” Mayberry deadpanned.

 “Heh. Sorry. Have a tendency to rush into things. Literally as well.” He rubbed his head.

 Mayberry chuckled. “You must’ve gotten knocked in the head a lot, I imagine.”

 “That’s what happens in sports. Oh, good news, I just won my recent game this morning.”

 “Congrats!” Mayberry said. “Wish I was there to see it, but I have my job.”

 “Where at?”

 “Pentagram Penitentiary Place.”

 “Ah, the boot camp school. Pretty strict over there, I heard.”

 “It’s not too bad. The atmosphere helped me toughen up when I first applied. Even in Hell, it still brings me joy to sharpen the minds of the youth. Though I do wish there was less emphasis on murder all the time.”

 “Says the one who murdered her husband and tried to kill his lover.”

 “Oh shut it.”

 Mayberry sighed as Mando smirked playfully. “I just wish things were…better, you know. Don’t you ever wish you could somehow magically change yourself and go off to a better place?”

 “Mhmm,” Mando nodded. “But like they all say, ‘Hell’s a one way trip down.’ We’re stuck here forever. Might as well make the best of it.”

 Mayberry thought back to when she collected the Happy Hotel flier that Charlie had left behind when she peered into the classroom. Redeeming demons shouldn’t be possible, yet Hell’s own princess firmly believed in it. Could it really be true?

 Mando saw her pondering in thought and thought of something to brighten things up. “Hmm, maybe if you’d like, I could come by and coach the kids on some basketball moves when I’m not practicing or playing.”

 This time, Mayberry’s eyes sparkled. “That would be wonderful, sir! The kids haven’t had a proper gym instructor in months. The last one got his head kicked off by wild teens. They’ll need someone to look up to.”

 Mando grinned and pounded his fist into his palm. “You bet I can keep them in line. I’ve learned a few things from my coaches…they’ll be in tip top shape in no time!”

 “Just…please don’t hurt them,” Mayberry pleaded.

 “You have my word miss,” he said.

 Mando couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face and features. It wasn’t a face of youthful beauty, but it radiated wisdom and strength.

 Mayberry looked unsure. “It’s been a while since someone has looked at me like that.”

 Mando chuckled in embarrassment after staring at her breasts under her shirt. “My bad.”

 “No it’s…fine,” she trailed off, eyes looking off to the side. It was a look of lust, but not entirely. It was almost like the way her husband looked at her before…

 She brushed the memory aside. There was no reason to trust this guy…at least not completely. He was just a friendly acquaintance. Even still, she revealed what was plaguing her mind.

 “I worry sometimes that that Martha person, might be down here,” she said. “I don’t wanna have to deal with her again after what happened. I mean, we both died and did bad things…”

 “Don’t worry about it,” Mando assured her. “From the looks of things, you know how to take care of yourself.”

 Both of them got up from their seats. Mayberry stood up straighter, pleased with the reassurance. She kept telling herself to be strong, but hearing it from someone else made her feel…lighter, less weighed down by her thoughts. Mando stood up, towering over her.

 Mando fished into his shirt and gave her a card with his name and number on it. The Ohio State logo was on one corner.

 “No, no, I’m not ready for that yet…”

 He still held it out in front of her. “You don’t have to do anything with it,” he said. “Just know that I’ll be around if you ever feel unsafe.”

 Mayberry stood still, left eye twitching. It almost felt like she was betraying her husband by talking with another man. She had promised herself that she would remain faithful to him in life.

 But now things were different. She was in Hell, a place where she could do what she wished. It was her second chance.

 With shaking, hesitant fingers, she gripped onto the card and took it, putting it in her purse.

“It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Mayberry,” Mando said.

 “Same to you,” she said.

 “Want to meet up together next week?”

 “I’ll do a rain-check,” Mayberry said.

 “Be careful, the acid rains here aren’t too pleasant without umbrellas.”

 Mayberry snickered a bit. “We’ll see.”

 “I’ll go ahead and support I.M.P. with you,” he mentioned. “Those crazy killers need more recognition. You never know when you’ll need someone eliminated.”

 “Agreed,” Mayberry said. “Using the grimoire to enter the living world is no small feat.”

 “See you around!” he called, as he broke through the wrought iron fence, sending birds flapping and scattering.

 Mayberry watched him stomp off before she exited through the cafe door. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 The murder of crows swooped down and landed on another table partially shadowed among the rosebushes. There were several wilted rose heads on a plate and a mug of coffee. The birds landed on the shoulders of a figure behind a white newspaper. One gloved hand stroked the bird’s feathers. The paper lowered slightly to reveal two large glowing red eyes.

[timelesstimesgoneby]

EPISODE SEASON 1 DISC 1 S01E01 "THE NEW HOUSEKEEPER" S01E02 "THE MANHUNT" S01E03 "THE GUITAR PLAYER" S01E04 "ELLIE COMES TO TOWN" S01E05 "IRRESISTIBLE ANDY" S01E06 "RUNAWAY KID" S01E07 "ANDY THE MATCHMAKER" S01E08 "OPIE'S CHARITY" DISC 2 S01E09 "A FEUD IS A FEUD" S01E10 "ELLIE FOR COUNCIL" S01E11 "THE CHRISTMAS STORY" S01E12 "STRANGER IN TOWN" S01E13 "MAYBERRY GOES HOLLYWOOD" S01E14 "THE HORSE TRADER" S01E15 "THOSE GOSSIPIN' MEN" S01E16 "THE BEAUTY CONTEST" DISC 3 S01E17 "ALCOHOL AND OLD LACE" S01E18 "ANDY THE MARRIAGE COUNSELOR" S01E19 "MAYBERRY ON RECORD" S01E20 "ANDY SAVES BARNEY'S MORALE" S01E21 "ANDY AND THE GENTLEMAN CROOK" S01E22 "CYRANO ANDY" S01E23 "ANDY AND OPIE, HOUSEKEEPERS" S01E24 "THE NEW DOCTOR" DISC 4 S01E25 "A PLAQUE FOR MAYBERRY" S01E26 "THE INSPECTOR" S01E27 "ELLIE SAVES A FEMALE" S01E28 "ANDY FORECLOSES" S01E29 "QUIET SAM" S01E30 "BARNEY GETS HIS MAN" S01E31 "THE GUITAR PLAYER RETURNS" S01E32 "BRINGING UP OPIE" SEASON 2 DISC 1 S02E01 "OPIE AND THE BULLY" S02E02 "BARNEY'S REPLACEMENT" S02E03 "ANDY AND THE WOMAN SPEEDER" S02E04 "MAYBERRY GOES BANKRUPT" S02E05 "BARNEY ON THE REBOUND" S02E06 "OPIE'S HOBO FRIEND" S02E07 "CRIME-FREE MAYBERRY" DISC 2 S02E08 "THE PERFECT FEMALE" S02E09 "AUNT BEE'S BRIEF ENCOUNTER" S02E10 "THE CLUBMEN" S02E11 "THE PICKLE STORY" S02E12 "SHERIFF BARNEY" S02E13 "THE FARMER TAKES A WIFE" DISC 3 S02E14 "THE KEEPER OF THE FLAME" S02E15 "BAILEY'S BAD BOY" S02E16 "THE MANICURIST" S02E17 "THE JINX" S02E18 "JAILBREAK" S02E19 "A MEDAL FOR OPIE" DISC 4 S02E20 "BARNEY AND THE CHOIR" S02E21 "GUEST OF HONOR" S02E22 "THE MERCHANT OF MAYBERRY" S02E23 "AUNT BEE THE WARDEN" S02E24 "THE COUNTY NURSE" S02E25 "ANDY AND BARNEY IN THE BIG CITY" DISC 5 S02E26 "WEDDING BELLS FOR AUNT BEE" S02E27 "THREE'S A CROWD" S02E28 "THE BOOKIE BARBER" S02E29 "ANDY ON TRIAL" S02E30 "COUSIN VIRGIL" S02E31 "DEPUTY OTIS" SEASON 3 DISC 1 S03E01 "MR. MCBEEVEE" S03E02 ANDY'S RICH GIRLFRIEND S03E03 "ANDY AND THE NEW MAYOR" S03E04 "ANDY AND OPIE – BACHELORS" S03E05 "THE COW THIEF" S03E06 "BARNEY MENDS A BROKEN HEART" S03E07 "LAWMAN BARNEY" DISC 2 S03E08 "THE MAYBERRY BAND" S03E09 "FLOYD, THE GAY DECEIVER" S03E10 "OPIE'S RIVAL" S03E11 "CONVICTS AT LARGE" S03E12 "THE BED JACKET" S03E13 "THE BANK JOB" S03E14 "ONE-PUNCH OPIE" DISC 3 S03E15 "BARNEY AND THE GOVERNOR" S03E16 "MAN IN A HURRY" S03E17 "HIGH NOON IN MAYBERRY" S03E18 "THE LOADED GOAT" S03E19 "CLASS REUNION" S03E20 "RAFE HOLLISTER SINGS" DISC 4 S03E21 "OPIE AND THE SPOILED KID" S03E22 "THE GREAT FILLING STATION ROBBERY" S03E23 "ANDY DISCOVERS AMERICA" S03E24 "AUNT BEE'S MEDICINE MAN" S03E25 "THE DARLINGS ARE COMING" S03E26 "ANDY'S ENGLISH VALET" DISC 5 S03E27 "BARNEY'S FIRST CAR" S03E28 "THE RIVALS" S03E29 "A WIFE FOR ANDY" S03E30 "DOGS, DOGS, DOGS" S03E31 "MOUNTAIN WEDDING" S03E32 "THE BIG HOUSE" SEASON 4 DISC 1 S04E01 "OPIE THE BIRDMAN" S04E02 "THE HAUNTED HOUSE" S04E03 "ERNEST T. BASS JOINS THE ARMY" S04E04 "THE SERMON FOR TODAY" S04E05 "BRISCOE DECLARES FOR AUNT BEE" S04E06 "GOMER THE HOUSE GUEST" S04E07 "A BLACK DAY FOR MAYBERRY" DISC 2 S04E08 "OPIE'S ILL-GOTTEN GAIN" S04E09 "UP IN BARNEY'S ROOM" S04E10 "A DATE FOR GOMER" S04E11 "CITIZEN'S ARREST" S04E12 "OPIE AND HIS MERRY MEN" S04E13 "BARNEY AND THE CAVE RESCUE" S04E14 "ANDY AND OPIE'S PAL" DISC 3 S04E15 "AUNT BEE THE CRUSADER" S04E16 "BARNEY'S SIDECAR" S04E17 "MY FAIR ERNEST T. BASS" S04E18 "PRISONER OF LOVE" S04E19 "HOT ROD OTIS" S04E20 "THE SONG FESTERS" DISC 4 S04E21 "THE SHOPLIFTERS" S04E22 "ANDY'S VACATION" S04E23 "ANDY SAVES GOMER" S04E24 "BARGAIN DAY" S04E25 "DIVORCE, MOUNTAIN STYLE" S04E26 "A DEAL IS A DEAL" DISC 5 S04E27 "FUN GIRLS" S04E28 "THE RETURN OF MALCOLM MERRIWEATHER" S04E29 "THE RUMOR" S04E30 "BARNEY AND THELMA LOU, PHFFTT" S04E31 "BACK TO NATURE" S04E32 "GOMER PYLE, U.S.M.C." SEASON 5 DISC 1 S05E01 "OPIE LOVES HELEN" S05E02 "BARNEY'S PHYSICAL" S05E03 "FAMILY VISIT" S05E04 "THE EDUCATION OF ERNEST T. BASS" S05E05 "AUNT BEE'S ROMANCE" S05E06 "BARNEY'S BLOODHOUND" S05E07 "MAN IN THE MIDDLE" DISC 2 S05E08 "BARNEY'S UNIFORM" S05E09 "OPIE'S FORTUNE" S05E10 "GOODBYE, SHERIFF TAYLOR" S05E11 "THE PAGEANT" S05E12 "THE DARLING BABY" S05E13 "ANDY AND HELEN HAVE THEIR DAY" S05E14 "THREE WISHES FOR OPIE" DISC 3 S05E15 "OTIS SUES THE COUNTY" S05E16 "BARNEY FIFE, REALTOR" S05E17 "GOOBER TAKES A CAR APART" S05E18 "THE REHABILITATION OF OTIS" S05E19 "THE LUCKY LETTER" S05E20 "GOOBER AND THE ART OF LOVE" DISC 4 S05E21 "BARNEY RUNS FOR SHERIFF" S05E22 "IF I HAD A QUARTER-MILLION" S05E23 "TV OR NOT TV" S05E24 "GUEST IN THE HOUSE" S05E25 "THE CASE OF THE PUNCH IN THE NOSE" S05E26 "OPIE'S NEWSPAPER" DISC 5 S05E27 "AUNT BEE'S INVISIBLE BEAU" S05E28 "THE ARREST OF THE FUN GIRLS" S05E29 "THE LUCK OF NEWTON MONROE" S05E30 "OPIE FLUNKS ARITHMETIC" S05E31 "OPIE AND THE CARNIVAL" S05E32 "BANJO-PLAYING DEPUTY" SEASON 6 DISC 1 S06E01 "OPIE'S JOB" S06E02 "ANDY'S RIVAL" S06E03 "MALCOLM AT THE CROSSROADS" S06E04 "AUNT BEE, THE SWINGER" S06E05 "THE BAZAAR" S06E06 "A WARNING FROM WARREN" DISC 2 S06E07 "OFF TO HOLLYWOOD" S06E08 "TAYLORS IN HOLLYWOOD" S06E09 "THE HOLLYWOOD PARTY" S06E10 "AUNT BEE ON TV" S06E11 "THE CANNON" S06E12 "A MAN'S BEST FRIEND" DISC 3 S06E13 "AUNT BEE TAKES A JOB" S06E14 "THE CHURCH ORGAN" S06E15 "GIRL-SHY" S06E16 "OTIS THE ARTIST" S06E17 "THE RETURN OF BARNEY FIFE" S06E18 "THE LEGEND OF BARNEY FIFE" DISC 4 S06E19 "LOST AND FOUND" S06E20 "WYATT EARP RIDES AGAIN" S06E21 "AUNT BEE LEARNS TO DRIVE" S06E22 "LOOK PAW, I'M DANCING" S06E23 "THE GYPSIES" S06E24 "EAT YOUR HEART OUT" DISC 5 S06E25 "A BABY IN THE HOUSE" S06E26 "THE COUNTY CLERK" S06E27 "THE FOSTER LADY" S06E28 "GOOBER'S REPLACEMENT" S06E29 "THE BATTLE OF MAYBERRY" S06E30 "A SINGER IN TOWN" SEASON 7 DISC 1 S07E01 "OPIE'S GIRLFRIEND" S07E02 "THE LODGE" S07E03 "THE BARBERSHOP QUARTET" S07E04 "THE BALL GAME" S07E05 "AUNT BEE'S CROWNING GLORY" S07E06 "THE DARLING FORTUNE" DISC 2 S07E07 "MIND OVER MATTER" S07E08 "POLITICS BEGIN AT HOME" S07E09 "THE SENIOR PLAY" S07E10 "OPIE FINDS A BABY" S07E11 "BIG FISH IN A SMALL TOWN" S07E12 "ONLY A ROSE" DISC 3 S07E13 "OTIS THE DEPUTY" S07E14 "GOOBER MAKES HISTORY" S07E15 "A NEW DOCTOR IN TOWN" S07E16 "DON'T MISS A GOOD BET" S07E17 "DINNER AT EIGHT" S07E18 "A VISIT TO BARNEY FIFE" DISC 4 S07E19 "BARNEY COMES TO MAYBERRY" S07E20 "ANDY'S OLD GIRLFRIEND" S07E21 "AUNT BEE'S RESTAURANT" S07E22 "FLOYD'S BARBERSHOP" S07E23 "THE STATUE" S07E24 "HELEN, THE AUTHORESS" DISC 5 S07E25 "GOODBYE DOLLY" S07E26 "OPIE'S PIANO LESSON" S07E27 "HOWARD, THE COMEDIAN" S07E28 "BIG BROTHER" S07E29 "OPIE'S MOST UNFORGETTABLE CHARACTER" S07E30 "GOOBER'S CONTEST" SEASON 8 DISC 1 S08E01 "OPIE'S FIRST LOVE" S08E02 "HOWARD THE BOWLER" S08E03 "A TRIP TO MEXICO" S08E04 "ANDY'S TRIP TO RALEIGH" S08E05 "OPIE STEPS UP IN CLASS" S08E06 "HOWARD'S MAIN EVENT" DISC 2 S08E07 "AUNT BEE THE JUROR" S08E08 "THE TAPE RECORDER" S08E09 "OPIE'S GROUP" S08E10 "AUNT BEE AND THE LECTURER" S08E11 "ANDY'S INVESTMENT" S08E12 "HOWARD AND MILLIE" DISC 3 S08E13 "AUNT BEE'S COUSIN" S08E14 "SUPPOSE ANDY GETS SICK" S08E15 "HOWARD'S NEW LIFE" S08E16 "GOOBER THE EXECUTIVE" S08E17 "THE MAYBERRY CHEF" S08E18 "EMMETT'S BROTHER-IN-LAW" DISC 4 S08E19 "OPIE'S DRUGSTORE JOB" S08E20 "THE CHURCH BENEFACTORS" S08E21 "BARNEY HOSTS A SUMMIT MEETING" S08E22 "GOOBER GOES TO AN AUTO SHOW" S08E23 "AUNT BEE'S BIG MOMENT" S08E24 "HELEN'S PAST" DISC 5 S08E25 "EMMETT'S ANNIVERSARY" S08E26 "THE WEDDING" S08E27 "SAM FOR TOWN COUNCIL" S08E28 "OPIE AND MIKE" S08E29 "A GIRL FOR GOOBER" S08E30 "MAYBERRY R.F.D."