The Satanic Curses – Gluttony.

“Do you ever get bored with it?” the demon asked as he shovelled the pile of meat into the funnel. The tube that flowed between funnel and mincer was big enough for the chunks of meat to traverse easily. Winding the way along the tunnel as the next was pushed in. The mincer, well, minced the meat, and it then got pushed down a smaller tube into the victim. The other end of the victim had a length of tube expertly attached. This one removed the waste, and then it is pumped into the void. The gap that exists between circles. Shit left to float forever in the never-ending uninhabited darkness of shite.

“Look at me,” the other demon answered sadly as it held its arms out. Its hands were shaped for the job that it was created to do. One a shovel, the other is a corkscrew, one for moving the meat, one for unblocking. “What use would I be in a circle like lust or wrath?” the demon said, dejected. Resigned forever to a job he did not want.

“Ah mate, don’t be like that,” his friend said, trying to cheer him up. “There is someone for everyone. Believe me, these humans have some weird kinks.”

“Look at me, I am nothing,” the other replied as it jammed the corkscrew into the pipe to shove a little meat through. “Half the time I either have shit or raw meat hanging from me, I will be a shit shoveller forever.” His demonic pal stopped for a moment. It stood and watched him as he rammed the meat through. “You are more than that, my friend,” he said. “You need to see your potential.” He held his own arms up, one a shovel, the other a tenderising hammer. “Look at this, most people see a hammer, right?” he held up his hammering hand,” but in lust, I’ve seen people who like being hit, you know, down there!” he pointed down at his groin.

“Why the fuck would they want that?” the other demon asked, confused.

“No idea, as I’ve said before, humans are weird,” he looked down at the victim they were feeding. “What about you, want a tickle with his screw? A paddling with his shovel? We can give it a go if you’d like.”

Sometimes words are unneeded, and the human victim could not have spoken even if he wanted to. They had inserted the tubing with expert precision. One tube to deliver and then one to dispose of the waste. They have said that the eyes are a gateway to the soul. In this case, it is a portal to distress, an abyss of anxiety. The pupils of the human expanded at a pace that would have made light seem slow, the eyes spread to open as far as the body will allow. This person does not want a curly tickling. “Aye, I didn’t think so,” the demon said. “It ain’t for everyone.”

They looked at the human’s belly, it was bloated, and the skin was almost translucent where it has stretched so much. “People look at us and think’, Ohhhh, demon. They must be into strange shit’ but we ain’t. You’re the deprived lot. You have lust, wrath, gluttony, greed, fraud and so on and so forth. You do all that shit willingly. They make us for it.” Corkscrew leant over and poked the belly of their victim. There was no give at all; it was packed; packed to its very limit. “I think this one is ready to blow,” he said as he poked it again for good measure. “What do you think? Give it some more, or let it blow?” the other demon poked the belly with its hammer, giving it a good hard push. The victim groaned. Well, it was more of a gurgling, muffled cry for help. “Tell you what, you come to lust with me, we’ll discuss it over a pint,” the second demon said.

“Beer sounds good,” corkscrew replied. With that, they left their victim to digest. They left the room in good spirits, another job well done. “Besides, think about the change of scenery! I hear lust is all pink, with cafes and everything.”

“I am still not su…” he stopped. A loud bang had cut him off.

“Huh, well, I told you he was ready to pop,” the demon said as he placed his hammer on the other’s shoulder.

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