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Here's a Thought
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My dinner with Evil

'So', Evil muttered as it cut into a heavily sour-creamed baked potato, 'you have come to ask me for a favor.'
'No, no!', I exclaimed, 'this is the favor. Just coming to dinner. That's all. That's all I wanted.'
The black in the centre of its pure white eyes thinned and looked deep into my soul for honesty. 'Dinner.'

'Yes', I responded, beads of sweat emerging from my armpits.
'Just my presence will suffice.'
'Right.'
'You shall pick up the tab?'
'Are you going to get dessert?'
'I do not believe so.'
'Then yes.'
Then quiet. Evil stared at the starchy chunk of vegetable on the edge of its fork. I wiped my brow and realized I wasn't ready to bring out my notepad full of questions. Evil's empty eyes rose from his morsel of food to meet mine.
'Do you know how many African peasants died for us to able to have this meal here tonight?'
I briefly considered answering a number (perhaps seven), but then decided on the slightly safer answer, 'No.'
'None.' And without cracking a smile or opening its mouth, Evil's hollow, shrieking laughter rattled through my skull. I force out a wheezed chuckle as I prayed the jarring noises within my brain would die down. I was starting to get a headache from his howls. Then my headache turned to a flash of disorienting nausea and for a second blackness was all I saw.
'Here', he said, handing his napkin to me, 'your nose is bleeding.'
'So it is', I said as calmly as possible, hoping not to succumb to a brain aneurysm thanks to a crappy joke. As I wipe my nose with the donated napkin and leave the whole thing drenched in Dracula’s finest, I resolve to get to the reason behind this meeting as soon as possible. I wasn’t just playing with death; I was wining and dining him.
But before I can dig through my fanny pack for my notes, a young woman in a conservative black dress walks up to our table and addresses my guest with venom in her eyes.
'Pig!' she snarled, and threw my drink in its face, ‘My daughter died in her crib at three months thanks to you!'

‘Hey wait-’, I began, as several tables turn to the commotion.

‘And you!’ she said, turning to me with a thankfully empty glass, ‘treating him this way! Encouraging him!’

‘It’s not a him-’, I try again, but she’s already spun around and is marching back to her table. I quickly look across to Evil, who seems to be more preoccupied with dabbing itself dry with another napkin than cursing our interloper.
'I'm sorry about that', I offered nervously.
'It happens frequently when I leave the shadows and recesses of man's darkest secrets and go to an upscale restaurant.'
'Do you go out often?'
’Are you referring to romantic pursuits?’
'No, this isn’t a date.'
'A date?'
'Never mind.’ I cleared my throat and averted its eyes as I proceeded: 'Do you mind if I ask you a question?'
'I do not.'
‘Do you think the concept of evil is misrepresented in mainstream media?’
'I try to avoid reading the newspapers.’

‘Oh, hold on’, I said, and dug out my digital recorder and placed it on the table. ‘Okay, go ahead.’

Evil looked down upon the device with a frown.

‘What is this?’

‘It’s a recorder. You know, so I can transcribe all this later.’

‘You are going to write of this meeting?’

‘Well, yeah. Then I’ll send out to some publications and see if I get any offers.’

‘Offers?’

‘I freelance.’
'You lied to me', it said, jabbing a pale finger in my direction, 'you told me it was only dinner.'
'Well, yes, yes, okay, I did, but it's going to be the worst thing I do all day, I promise.’

‘You promise? I should take your word now, after you threw it in the gutter?’

‘You, uh, shouldn't really be pointing fingers if you think about it. I mean,\... what's on tap for you this evening?'
'I have to plunge a bus full of children off a cliff in Uruguay.'
'See?'
'See what?', Evil countered, stuffing its last forkful of steak into its mouth and swallowing it without chewing, 'I see nothing but a little liar in front of me.'
'So I told a small fib!' I yelled, 'You're going to kill a whole bunch of kids tonight!' Several tables turned to look at us again.
'Are you saying what am I do is worse?'
'Yes! Yes, of course!'
'Are you sure?'
 His pressing of the issue robbed me of my certainty. ‘Well, uh…ethically… no one’s dead after what I did…right?’
'Tell you what', it said, shifting out of the booth and standing up, almost bumping its head on the ceiling, 'this meal is on me. You have enough problems as it is.'
'Oh, no-'
'Oh yes', he said firmly, pulling a one hundred dollar bill out of thin air and placing it on the table, ‘you do. I may take a lot from humanity, but I always leave people the most important part of themselves. Something only you yourself can destroy. It’s-’
’Uh, I think dinner’s going to be more than one hundred dollars. I’m…um… planning on getting another bottle of wine.’

Evil stares into my soul. I just stare back. I really had my heart set on an after dinner Shiraz and was now hoping it wasn’t going to cost me my family being slaughtered over Easter weekend by an escaped mental patient.

With thin slits for eyes, he makes another one hundred dollar bill appear on the table.

‘Thanks a bunch’, I tell him.

‘Spend the tip on a homeless man.’

And with that, Evil grabs its trench coat and fedora and walks out of the restaurant. I beckon my waiter with a defiant snapping of the fingers. Now it will be two bottles of wine.

END