#eatingdemons

     Solomon had been out all damn day, and he was real sick and tired of looking for a goddamn decent kazoo. But he’d finally found one, and he was so proud of himself that he just had to show Rune immediately.

     However, when he got back to his lair, the fallen angel was... asleep.

     Solomon crossed the room to stand beneath the chandelier. God damn, he thought to himself, why do you have to sleep in such hard to reach places?

     Solomon could smell Servius’s putrid scent from a mile away, and, apparently, Servius could smell Solomon, too. Within moments of picking up his supervisor’s scent, Servius’s heavy hand was on Solomon’s shoulder, and he was whispering into Solomon’s ear.

     Solomon had been trying for a week straight to get a reaction out of Rune. But they were so dead inside, he couldn’t even get them to talk.

     He’d resorted, now, to riding around his lair on a flaming unicycle, juggling what felt like seven thousand knives, and not even that would get a reaction out of them.

     The demon was getting really tired of it now.

     “Hey,” he said, the knives clattering to the floor, one by one. “Doll, you’re being awfully inhospitable. Not a very good roommate, if you ask me.” Solomon disappeared from atop the unicycle, and it clattered to the floor beside the knives, the bright yellow flames adorning its surface snuffing themselves out.

     Suddenly, Solomon was on top of Rune’s lap, his face only inches away from theirs. His hand came up, and flicked their forehead.

     “Get your shit together, would’ya? It’s no use sittin’ around doing nothing, y’know. That’s a real shitty existence, trust me.” He sighed.

     “You haven’t said anything in like a week, babe. You haven’t even asked me for dinner or anything. It’s sorta concerning.