#karendemon

I never did figure out who summoned the demon to the food court, much less why or how. I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was in the middle of my lunch break when I spotted trouble on the security cameras. Looked like a drunk and disorderly, just what I need.

I put down my stale turkey sandwich and head to the food court. It’s a mess there. I mean, even more than usual. Tables and chairs knocked all over, people screaming and pointing, food spilled everywhere, and right in the middle of it, a terrifying demonic shape, so black it seemed to suck all the light in towards it.

It’s a demon that has possessed a middle-aged white lady with a short blonde haircut wearing a puffer vest over a white shirt, Lululemon pants, and spotless white sneakers. This is so much worse than I thought. It’s a Karen demon. Or a demon that possessed a Karen. At this point, I can’t really tell.

There’s a lot I could theoretically do in this situation, but they don’t give me a lot to work with. My 25 years of hard-earned military experience isn’t much good when I’m not allowed to touch anyone or use anything more than a cell phone. And that only to call the cops. You’re not allowed to beat people with your cell phone in this job. I asked.

Regardless, we have a situation here, and it’s my job to resolve it. First and foremost, the demon is gesturing wildly with the glass in its hand. Judging by the smell and the chunks of fruit floating in the red liquid, I’m guessing it’s sangria. Where it got sangria in the mall, I don’t know, but open containers are clearly prohibited by mall policy.

This isn’t to say people don’t wander around the mall getting drunk as hell. They do, and I leave them to it, as long as they keep it to themselves and don’t make trouble. You think all those stroller-pushing moms are sipping water out of their trendy Owala flasks? Hah!

The first thing I should do is call the cops, because they’re supposed to handle the drunk and disorderly cases. But the amount of hassle it is to have the cops come out here just isn’t worth it. Not if I can get the demon to leave quietly. Which doesn’t seem likely, but my half-eaten turkey sandwich isn’t getting any fresher, so I’m willing to give it a shot.

I step up to the demon and say “stop,” real normal, like I was about to tell it that its shoe is untied. The demon went silent, turned to look at me, and cocked its head in confusion. Great, I got its attention. Now to press my advantage. “You can’t have an open container of alcohol in here,” I told it. “I can have you arrested right now. Put the drink down and leave these premises.”

For a few seconds, it looked like the demon was going to follow my orders. Then it shook its head, screeched, and threw the glass directly at my head.

I dropped and took shelter behind a table. Glass crashed against the table, slopping sweet, fruity liquid everywhere. The demon went back to screaming and kicking furniture around. I pulled out my cell phone and, real quick, googled “how to get rid of a demon.” I skimmed the instructions, crossed my fingers that the AI response was correct and not hallucinating a bunch of garbage that was going to get me trapped in Hell for eternity, then stood up. “I renounce your connection to the devil and repent for doors opened to demonic influence,” I said, as loudly and firmly as I could. The demon pointed at me and snort-laughed. It had a point. It sounded dumb to me, too. I put the phone back in my pocket and decided to wing it.

“In the name of the manager, I rebuke thee!” I held my hands out dramatically. The demon shrieked. I had hit a nerve. I squared up and took another step towards it. “In the name of the manager, and the assistant manager, and the shift lead! I command you to leave these premises immediately!” The possessed woman fell to her knees. The black cloud of the demon started swirling around her, agitated, like angry bees. Time to take out the big guns. “In the name of the Regional Manager, I rebuke and break any curses, hexes, or demonic activity sent here to Pinecrest Square!”

That did the trick. The black cloud swirled out of the woman and came directly at me. It got right up in my face. A buzzing voice made of flies and broken glass said, “We will leave, but this is only temporary. We have your name, Vince. We know you.” This felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on my head. Then it swirled up and through the central glass skylight and off into the world.

Applause. I had forgotten about all the people. I looked around, feeling a little dazed, and waved my hand. “Nothing to see here,” I said, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Some people were trying to help Karen to her feet, but she kept waving them off. I asked if she wanted me to call an ambulance, and she refused. Threatened to tell my manager about my “insolence.” Whatever, lady. By this point, I only had 10 minutes left in my lunch break, so I left her alone like she wanted and went back to the office to finish my sandwich.