by Scott Talbot Evans
Graphic via Red Bubble |
There once was a con man of ill-gotten wealth.
Many counterfeit trophies cluttered his shelf.
He prided himself on his great mental health,
And made known to the world he’d done well for himself.
He built monuments, palaces, and towers so high,
That they threatened to poke God Himself in the eye.
The man was so crooked, unscrupulous, and sly,
That Satan decided to give him a try.
“Nice to meet you. I’m the Prince of Perdition.
I can see you’re a man of blinding ambition.
If it’s not too much of an imposition,
I offer a once in a life proposition.”
“What are you bothering a busy man for?
Can’t you see I have houses and women galore?
What could you possibly add to my score?”
The devil grinned widely and simply said, “More.”
“You will boast and brag. Your horn will be tooted.
The masses will fall for you as if struck by Cupid.
They won’t even notice their pockets you looted.
They will believe every word you say, no matter how stupid.”
“You will split the world in chaotic division.
Your critics will charge you with crimes and derision,
But my lawyers will twist every fact and decision,
So you won’t spend a single minute in prison.”
“I need more. I want banners to herald my name,
In bold proclamation of my unequaled fame.
The public must shower me with so much acclaim,
That it puts Alexander and Caesar to shame.”
“You drive a hard bargain. I find you quite droll.
In return for all that, you must pay a small toll,
A possession you won’t even miss on the whole,
A little thing commonly known as your soul.”
“Is that all?” The cheater started to squeal.
His eager excitement he tried to conceal.
“Looks like I found myself quite a steal.
Okay, buddy, you’ve got yourself a deal!”
They smiled and squinted. Their slimy hands shook.
Lucifer wrote the fool’s name in his book.
And that little scribble was all that it took,
For somewhere in hell an ember started to cook.
The man’s fame suddenly started to rise.
Half the world believed all his terrible lies.
His power and ego increased to king-size.
He was hailed as a savior in his followers’ eyes.
He invented false dangers to control people’s fears
And inflamed their angers to arouse their cheers.
His empire grew on prejudice and smears,
And contempt from his critics was music to his ears.
He hobnobbed with hoodlums, gangsters, and whores.
Tyrants and despots were his secret mentors.
He suppressed opposition with threatening roars,
And brought discord and riots to once peaceful shores.
He had unholy power to swindle and cheat.
Honesty and integrity took a back seat.
In no time he rose to the world’s highest seat.
But he could not rest ‘til his gluttony was complete.
Every ruler and judge was under his heel.
At his feet, the world’s nations were obligated to kneel.
All the lands and possessions were marked with his seal.
And then he sighed, because there was nothing left to steal.
He heard a crack, and there was a puff of smoke.
The demon stood before him in a long flowing cloak.
From the heart of darkness a raspy voice spoke.
“The dream is over. Time for you to get woke.”
Beelzebub grinned like a fiend and he said,
“The clock has run out, now. Guess what. You are dead.
Forget all the dreams in your silly head.
Fall to your knees and fill yourself with dread.”
“I have kept my bargain to the final dot.
The whole world and everything in it is what you got.
You had your fill, and that is saying a lot.
And now I shall take what is mine on this very spot.”
The snake’s eyes glowed and he sounded a gong.
A choir of demons sang a tormented song,
But the whole thing went on for a little too long.
“What is happening here? Something is wrong.”
The serpent looked for the man’s pain to begin.
But there wasn’t any, to his great chagrin.
From the corpse’s eyes arose a sparkle from within,
And his wrinkled lips curled into a wicked grin.
“I told you I was the best dealmaker bar none.
You shoulda read the fine print when you first begun.
I agreed to give you my soul when all was done,
But the joke’s on you, Satan, because I never had one.”
The cheat convulsed with laughter to the point of tears.
The joyful sound burned like acid on the devil’s ears.
“This is the first time I’ve been swindled in all my years.
He bowed. “From one con artist to another, cheers!”
Scott Talbot Evans' poems are published in Poetry Salzburg Review, Samjoko Magazine, and Straight On Till Morning. He was twice a finalist in The New Yorker caption contest and won the GEVA Theater 2 Pages/2 Voices competition and the Script Studio Scriptitude Competition. His work appears in Amazing Stories, Weekly Humorist, Shoreline of Infinity, Creepypod, and Crimeucopia. His novel The Love Police was released last year. He is working on his sixth book.