Wow… I've updated twice in one year! Go me! _ aaaaah… the joys of procrastination and absolutely no motivation. Oh well. Enjoy chapter 6, whoever should happen to read this. ^_^;;
Previously, in Hell:
Satan glowered at the Fates, who glowered right back.
"What do you mean you mixed up the threads?" he roared. "Are you honestly telling me that I sent the worst demon in all of Hell down there to do an incredibly hard summoning, and he wasn't the one who was supposed to go?! The summoning is tonight! I can't send a replacement now!"
"No, We said that the threads had mixed themselves up."
The Eldest poked a pair of threads that had merged and then divided again.
"This is Yasuo's thread, and this is Grallan's but they decided to switch themselves around apparently. We don't know how it happened. We just watch the blighted things all day and fingerweave the dead strands to help stay the boredom." A huge mound of yarn rope loomed over the proceedings. Satan was pretty sure it was watching him.
"If you really want answers you should just go talk to the Lord and Lady," The Not The Eldest But Not The Youngest Either told him.
Satan grumbled as he walked towards the audience chamber. The last time he'd tried to have an audience with those two he'd been standing there for days, waiting for them to talk… to move… Heavens, to even visibly breathe! He stopped at the door and knocked politely. A voice like rusted hinges croaked forth, demanding to know his business.
"The Lord and Lady are very busy you know. Not just anyone can go in to see them, you know. Just why should I announce you, I want to know. Do you think you're prepared to face them? Maybe I should make you answer some questions before I consider announcing you. First, what is your que-"
"Look, I'll get you some oil for those hinges if you don't put me through all of that again. I don't know squat about sparrows."
The door considered this for a while and then rocked experimentally. It squeaked and groaned.
"You have a deal."
Satan grumbled and waited for the door warden to call his name.
"Oh most gracious Lord, oh bringer of the morning and warmth, master of the forests and the creatures therein…"
"Can't you hurry up?"
"No. Oh lovely Lady, carrier of the moon and stars, giver of wisdom and insight, bearer of the bounties of the Earth and shepherd of the waters…"
"I don't want to stand out here as long as I know I'll be standing in there."
"I don't care. I'm doing it proper, so deal. Oh speakers of God's will, sacred couple that light our paths, I bring to you a most humble request from your servant, Satan, headmaster of your school and teacher of the youth, who desires an audience with your great personages."
Both Satan and the door leaned forward, waiting for any sign that the two beings in the room had heard a single word.
Fifteen hours later the Lady's finger twitched.
"It's a new record! The quickest she ever moved before was 26 hours after the herald."
"All right, all right. There's no need to be snippy. Get in there and ask your question," grouched the door. "And don't you forget to get me some oil!"
"Don't worry. I'll get it to you eventually." Satan quickly entered the room and winced as the door closed with an angry slam.
"Lord and Lady, I'm here to ask you for some advice about one of my pupils. Yasuo's thread and Grallan's went and got their weaving in a knot and know they've gone and switched places. As was per your prophecy 209 years ago, we were to manifest Grok into the human plane. But now I've got some incompetent fool down there doing god knows what and he's pretty much one-hundred percent sure to mess this up! What do I doooo?" He was on the verge of tears, clutching the hem of his jacket in a childish gesture of frustration. He had every reason to be distraught, he told himself. Odds were that these two stoners weren't going to say anything at all and would likely laugh at him once he'd gotten tired of waiting and left! Stupid hippy translators of God's will.
Satan heard a snicker. Then another. He stared, bug-eyed as the Lord reached out and poked the Lady, who poked him right back. They both giggled and they were both clearly paying no attention to him.
"Er... Lord. Lady? Did someone change the recipe of the Transcendence that you take?" He interjected hesitantly.
"Sugar!" came the immediate reply. "Want more sugar! Mommy! Gimme sugar!"
It was at this point that Satan had a nasty, slinking suspicion. One of the type that crawl through your brain and make you crave a lawyer's company just so that you can feel clean again.
It was not a commonly known fact that God was the equivalent of a 6-year old child. It was equally not commonly known that they were nothing more to God than slightly more intelligent sea-monkies. It was, however, known by those who did know that the rest of the Heaven should not be in the know since knowing would likely cause mass panic, riots, and a general increase in the order of things. And God did, indeed, have a sense of humor. And ADHD.
Satan backed up until he was against a wall and watched the antics of the two intermediaries. They were actually moving around, something that hadn't been recorded since their prophecy was made, which was about two days ago, God-time.
"Uhm.... Lord? Lady? Please? We really do need your help!"
The lady peered at him nearsightedly. "Awww.... is poor widdle Satan all scaredy waredy? Want a cookie? No? Well never you mind your siwwy head. Everything's gonna be all right!" And at that she broke into song and grabbed Satan's hands, trying to force him into an impromptu jig. He managed to pull his hands away and shrank back against the door, pounding on the unmoving wood frantically.
"Let me out of here!" he hissed. "God's clearly gotten a hold of more sugar!" Probably the cookies the Lady mentioned earlier. "If you don't let me out I won't get you your oil! And that's not a threat! I'm honestly fearing for my safety here!"
Satan cast a glance at the Intermediaries and cringed more. They were now attempting to play twister using the flagstones and had just discovered that they did not have enough limbs between them to spin the little arrow and maintain their positions. The door creaked open just as the Lord had a brilliant idea that would no doubt involve the hapless schoolmaster. Satan flung himself through the opening, and lay gasping on the floor, ashen faced and wide eyed. The door just laughed at him, in a wooden sort of way.