The Devil Made Me Do It!

A bit of humour...

My father said, advising me

On a winter's afternoon,

'If you ever sup with the devil, son,

Then sup with a long spoon.'

 

'He'll always try to cozen you,

To draw you into his schemes,

Whenever you're down and out, my son

He'll fill your head with dreams.'

 

'He'll make you feel grandiloquent,

With a power so sublime,

You'll think you're all but immortal, son

As you stray from the bottom line.'

 

'And slowly, slowly, he will fix

His hooks into your soul,

You'll never notice the hooks, my son

As you head toward your goal.'

 

'But come the day of reckoning

When your hens come home to roost,

It's - 'Sign on the dotted line…', my son,

Too late then for a truce!'

 

'So don't you ever sign your name,

That's my advice to you,

That parchment's never the worst of things

The Devil has plans to do.'

 

'He has a place set up for you

In his deep and dark dominions,

Stoking the fires of hell, my son

With the rest of the Devil's minions.'

 

*          *         *          *          *

 

Many a year has passed since then,

Time tends us to forget,

I only thought of his words as those

Of some long lost vignette.

 

But then I started a business up

In a modest little shop,

With fishing tackle and bait, it boomed,

I thought it would never stop.

 

The profits soared, I built a store

So large, grandiloquent,

My rivals slandered me more and more

In terms quite eloquent.

 

I saw them off, I bought them out

I started a fishing chain,

Both Lord and Emperor now I felt

Surveying my own domain.

 

But then a salesman came to call

Who looked at me long and hard,

He shuffled up to the counter, then,

And pulled out his calling card.

 

'A. Lucifer & Assoc.', it said,

'Fishhooks, Sinkers & Line'.

He reached in his pocket and spilled them out

Hooks large and small, and fine.

 

'We're far the biggest and best,' he said,

We cater for every whim…'

But then he stopped as he saw my face

Turn grey, while glaring at him.

 

'We have accounts,' he muttered, and then,

'You don't have to pay, old son.

Just sign on the dotted line just here…'

But I'd reached for my Elephant Gun.

 

I grabbed his collar, I tweaked his nose,

Stuck all those hooks in his pants,

Then dragged him off to the goldfish pool

To watch the Devil recant.

 

'You're not going to get your hooks in me,

Old Nick,' I raved at the wall,

But he lay splashing about, neck deep

Right under the waterfall.

 

'So that, your Honor, is why I'm here,

The police locked me up in a cell,

I was only protecting my soul, m'lud,

From Lucifer's hooks, and Hell.'

 

'The Devil, he made me do it, m'lud,

Old Beezlebub, there in the court,

I shouldn't be here in the dock today

If the Devil could only be bought.'

 

'He offered to sell me my freedom, sir,

Just sign, and he wouldn't sue…

I'd rather spend time in a prison cell,

But I guess… that's up to you!'

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Marie]

Better to go to prison than sell your soul. Your father was right. I've written more than once of Satan. Generally he loses. Not always...

[Tania Leigh]

An excellent read, as I am finding all of your writings to be. The flow of this entertaining tale is flawless, and the message contained within is timeless. I remain in awe of your work.

[Legion]

Elegantly written. You have that old school flair. I love that. Great story through it all. Love the way it turned out. :)

[Bubo]

I don't know if this is a true story, but the message is fab.......and the underlying humour
entwined with the story as it unfolds is just a style unique to you............wonderful flow
as always!