Jolly. “The chap’s only standing next to you.”
A. Bodkin looked confused. “Mrs. Abernathy,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“I’M SURE THAT YOU WEREN’T,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “NEVERTHELESS, HEARING FROM ME YOU ARE. YOU REPORTED AN INTERLOPER. WAS IT A BOY? TELL ME.”
“To be honest, much as I’d love to help you, I’m not sure that I can answer your question. This really needs to go through official channels.”
Mrs. Abernathy’s face darkened. Her lips peeled back, exposing teeth that began to grow longer and sharper as the dwarfs watched. Her face swelled, and she was at once both a woman and a monster, although it was still the woman that appeared the more terrifying of the two.
“Oops, said the wrong thing there, mate,” said Jolly. “He’ll be telling her it’s men’s business next, and that she shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about it.”
“Nah, he couldn’t be that stupid,” said Angry.
“Mrs. Abernathy,” said A. Bodkin. “I really must insist: this is a matter for the Senior Council of Demons. Er, that is, thecouncil of demons that are, um, entirely fixed in their concept of, um, demonality in the nonfemale sense.”
“I take it back,” said Angry. “He is that stupid.”
But A. Bodkin, having decided to put his foot in his mouth, was now determined to eat it, possibly with an order of socks on the side. “You must understand that since your, ahem, transformation and subsequent, ah, fall from favor, senior management has informed us that you are no longer to be included in the decision-making process.” A. Bodkin smiled his most patronizing smile, which was very patronizing indeed. “I’m sure that you have far more important matters to attend to,” he continued, “such as—”
“And he’s going for broke,” said Angry.
“Oh dear,” said Jolly, shielding his eyes with his hands. “I can hardly bear to watch.”
“—beautifying yourself, for example,” continued A. Bodkin, “or making something pretty for—”
The precise purpose of the something pretty in question was lost in a torrent of white-hot fire that shot from Mrs. Abernathy’s mouth and engulfed the unfortunate A. Bodkin, consuming him entirely and leaving only a pair of smoking black boots in his place.
The pillar of fire moved, turning to face the ranks of seated demons.
“NOW, WOULD ANYBODY ELSE LIKE TO SUGGEST THAT I MIND MY OWN BUSINESS?” said Mrs. Abernathy.
Thousands of heads shook simultaneously.
“WOULD SOMEONE PREFER TO TELL ME IF A BOY WAS SEEN HERE, A BOY WITH A DOG?”
Two rows from the front, one of the imps raised a hand.
“YES?”
“Please, miss, it was the size of a boy, miss, but it wasn’t a boy, miss,” said the demon.
“Ooh, tattle tale,” said Dozy. “If he didn’t have all his pals behind him, I’d deck him for that.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
“It was a little man, miss. Mr. Bodkin didn’t think he was dead, miss, so he reported him, miss.”
“AND THIS LITTLE MAN WAS ALONE?”
“Yes, miss. Far as Mr. Bodkin could tell, miss.”
“VERY GOOD. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”
“I don’t have a name, miss. I’m just a demon imp, third class, miss.”
“WELL, CONSIDER YOURSELF PROMOTED. FROM NOW ON, YOU MAY CALL YOURSELF B. BODKIN. THE DESK IS YOURS.”
“Oh, thank you very much, miss. I’ll be a very good B. Bodkin, miss, mark my words.”
The imp rose from its workbench and trotted up to the main desk as the pillar of fire narrowed and then disappeared entirely. It slipped its feet into A. Bodkin’s smoking boots. Slowly it began to increase in height, and its appearance started to change. Within seconds, it bore a startling resemblance to the original A. Bodkin, right down to the nasty little beard and the superior manner.
“Right, back to work, you lot,” said B. Bodkin. “The show is over.”
He settled himself into his new seat, put his feet on the desk, and picked up the newspaper. With a
A. Bodkin looked confused. “Mrs. Abernathy,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“I’M SURE THAT YOU WEREN’T,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “NEVERTHELESS, HEARING FROM ME YOU ARE. YOU REPORTED AN INTERLOPER. WAS IT A BOY? TELL ME.”
“To be honest, much as I’d love to help you, I’m not sure that I can answer your question. This really needs to go through official channels.”
Mrs. Abernathy’s face darkened. Her lips peeled back, exposing teeth that began to grow longer and sharper as the dwarfs watched. Her face swelled, and she was at once both a woman and a monster, although it was still the woman that appeared the more terrifying of the two.
“Oops, said the wrong thing there, mate,” said Jolly. “He’ll be telling her it’s men’s business next, and that she shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about it.”
“Nah, he couldn’t be that stupid,” said Angry.
“Mrs. Abernathy,” said A. Bodkin. “I really must insist: this is a matter for the Senior Council of Demons. Er, that is, thecouncil of demons that are, um, entirely fixed in their concept of, um, demonality in the nonfemale sense.”
“I take it back,” said Angry. “He is that stupid.”
But A. Bodkin, having decided to put his foot in his mouth, was now determined to eat it, possibly with an order of socks on the side. “You must understand that since your, ahem, transformation and subsequent, ah, fall from favor, senior management has informed us that you are no longer to be included in the decision-making process.” A. Bodkin smiled his most patronizing smile, which was very patronizing indeed. “I’m sure that you have far more important matters to attend to,” he continued, “such as—”
“And he’s going for broke,” said Angry.
“Oh dear,” said Jolly, shielding his eyes with his hands. “I can hardly bear to watch.”
“—beautifying yourself, for example,” continued A. Bodkin, “or making something pretty for—”
The precise purpose of the something pretty in question was lost in a torrent of white-hot fire that shot from Mrs. Abernathy’s mouth and engulfed the unfortunate A. Bodkin, consuming him entirely and leaving only a pair of smoking black boots in his place.
The pillar of fire moved, turning to face the ranks of seated demons.
“NOW, WOULD ANYBODY ELSE LIKE TO SUGGEST THAT I MIND MY OWN BUSINESS?” said Mrs. Abernathy.
Thousands of heads shook simultaneously.
“WOULD SOMEONE PREFER TO TELL ME IF A BOY WAS SEEN HERE, A BOY WITH A DOG?”
Two rows from the front, one of the imps raised a hand.
“YES?”
“Please, miss, it was the size of a boy, miss, but it wasn’t a boy, miss,” said the demon.
“Ooh, tattle tale,” said Dozy. “If he didn’t have all his pals behind him, I’d deck him for that.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
“It was a little man, miss. Mr. Bodkin didn’t think he was dead, miss, so he reported him, miss.”
“AND THIS LITTLE MAN WAS ALONE?”
“Yes, miss. Far as Mr. Bodkin could tell, miss.”
“VERY GOOD. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”
“I don’t have a name, miss. I’m just a demon imp, third class, miss.”
“WELL, CONSIDER YOURSELF PROMOTED. FROM NOW ON, YOU MAY CALL YOURSELF B. BODKIN. THE DESK IS YOURS.”
“Oh, thank you very much, miss. I’ll be a very good B. Bodkin, miss, mark my words.”
The imp rose from its workbench and trotted up to the main desk as the pillar of fire narrowed and then disappeared entirely. It slipped its feet into A. Bodkin’s smoking boots. Slowly it began to increase in height, and its appearance started to change. Within seconds, it bore a startling resemblance to the original A. Bodkin, right down to the nasty little beard and the superior manner.
“Right, back to work, you lot,” said B. Bodkin. “The show is over.”
He settled himself into his new seat, put his feet on the desk, and picked up the newspaper. With a
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