9-day novena to St Joseph | Day 8
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Management caucus room, several hours later…
Tediously, Mary finished editing Satan’s proposals for minion distribution. Satan was nowhere. ‘Must be kissing a mirror or trying on costumes,' she thought. Urgently, she needed his approval before printing copies for both sides.
Eventually, Satan flitted in. Ignoring his dramatic costume, “where have you been?” asked Mary, frantically. “It’s time to exchange proposals.”
“Miriam, when will you learn that minions wait on me. I don’t wait on them,” said Satan calmly. “Their time is not valuable.”
“As your advisor, I need you to review these before mass printing. You must agree to what this states,” said Mary. “All final decisions must be yours.”
“I’m sure whatever you wrote with will be fine,” said Satan nonchalantly.
“Seriously, your approval is necessary. The sooner, we get this done, the sooner you and your minions do whatever you and your minions do,” said Mary. She wanted today over, so she could go back to Heaven.
He glanced at the first page and returned it. “Yes, these will be fine as long as you don’t lose sight of the ultimate goal,” said Satan.
“OK, you cannot say that I didn’t try. Yes, the ultimate goal is for minions to do your bidding without whining,” said Mary dutifully. “And, to mess with their minds in the process.” Mary printed 7 copies: 5 for minions and 2 for her team. “By the way, what do minions do? Besides, recruiting souls ...”
“Well, minions create chaos,” said Satan. “They move cars in parking lots, turn up the volume on laptops, cell phones and TVs, especially during commercials. Oh, and they hide keys and other little things,” said Satan. “It’s quite entertaining to watch souls wander around parking lots, swearing. Minions get bonuses if they can make it rain. It further elevates the stress and subsequent cursing.”
Mary grimaced painfully. She looked for her lost car once or twice. Once it was stolen. She wondered if the car thief lived in hell. Perhaps she could pay them a little visit! After a moment, she realized Satan continued to talk at her.
Satan rambled on, “they also seek petty torments. Ever wonder where missing dryer socks go? We have warehouses of orphaned socks. Minions distribute them on highways.”
Mary nodded as she stapled her 7 copies.
“We do other things, too,” said Satan condescendingly. “St Anthony of Padua gets the credit for finding lost items, when we do all the work. It’s not fair. Are you done yet? I’d like to meet with my minions now.”
Today, Satan was dressed as Loki from Marvel comics. Loki was the Norse god of chaos and mischief. She had to admit; Satan was one suave pagan. Dressed in an imposingly regal, emerald-green metallic cape, he looked terrifying. His tailored armor was crafted from Asgardian gold trimmed in black leather. His helmet brandished some impressively sharp horns, and he wielded a Chitauri scepter. His eyes were as emerald as his cape. He looked terrifying, menacing and gangster, all at the same time.
Mary heard Tech’s denigrating voice in her head. “It’s theater. He looks like an emerald, ash-boring beetle. Focus!” She focused.
Meanwhile, in the negotiation room ….
The minions waited forever. They were peeved that Satan was beyond fashionably late.
“Somebody should tell Satan he needs to be on time,” said Yellow.
“Spending time with Satan is like getting eaten by a brush shredder,” said Black. “Why rush it?”
Green snipped at Yellow. “Since you brought it up, Lemon Lips, you should be the one to tell the Tyrant of Temptation to terminate his tardiness.” Green pushed Yellow, who lost his balance accidentally and fell on the floor.
Yellow got up with both fists raised at Green. A brawl broke out, as they all rolled around on the greasy floor, pages flying everywhere. Eventually, they wore themselves out and stopped. They laid on the floor huffing and puffing, until they caught their breath. They hurried to get their proposals back in order after the fight. It was quite the mess, since no pages were numbered. They had done their homework well, and brought every idea they could think of to fix hell. And then some. They knew this might be their only opportunity. They climbed back onto their chairs at the table and waited for Satan and Mary.
Just then, Satan walked into the room, followed by Mary. Of course, the very sight of Satan made the minions melt into madness. They shivered as they stacked papers. Meanwhile, Mary spread her files neatly and placed her supplies in order. The minions watched. Neither Satan nor the minions had a clue what to do, so Mary took charge, confidently. She noticed the big pile of papers being reshuffled in front of them.
“Welcome, Gentlemen, are we all here?” smiled Mary, as they nodded yes. “Are there any questions before we start?” The minions shook their heads no. “Ok then,” Mary continued, “who wants to go first?” No body moved or made eye contact. Mary stood, “OK Gentlemen, allow me to exchange our proposals.”
She got up and handed one copy of her proposal to Satan and to each minion thereafter. “I’m assuming the stack of papers in front of you is for us?” asked Mary. The minions nodded their heads, yes.
Orange presented it as if he’d invented literacy and that it was a sacred relic.
She took ownership of their 7-inch stack of papers, carried it to her table and sat down. “Is this all one copy of your proposal? Or is it several copies on top of each other?” She asked, because it didn’t look organized.
“It’s just one copy,” Orange confirmed. The minions all looked at each other. How should they know they needed another copy?
“Well,” Mary said, “management must have one copy. I assume you made a copy for yourselves. But if you don’t, that’s fine, too.” The leadership table had racing thoughts, as follows.
Mary announced, “since we have exchanged proposals, our next step is to review them in our respective caucus rooms. We will break for now and resume negotiations this afternoon. Are there any questions?”
The minions shook their heads no. They got up, bickering and blaming about how they had no proposal copies. Mary rolled her eyes and looked at Satan. Satan rolled his beetle-green eyes back at Mary. She noticed his fingernails were emerald green. Or were they claws?
Mary cleared her throat and said, “Before we go, please may I ask to have a list of everybody’s names? Since I’m new here, I don’t know you all, yet. To remedy this, I wish to make tented name cards for everyone, including us. The process must be fair and consistent."
The minions stopped and looked at each other. Then they looked at Mary. No one ever cared to know their names before. In fact, they weren’t even sure what their names were. They were sure Satan didn’t know, and they realized they didn’t want Satan to know. This wasn’t going as planned. Orange gave Mary a quickly scrawled list of names they remembered and fictionalized the rest. Off they all went into their respective caucus rooms.
The management caucus room ….
Mary sat to review the proposal stack from the minions. It was at least 7” thick and disorganized. She was surprised that minions could think of so many ideas so fast. Sadly, this was eventually going to take forever.
Satan remained standing. He was admiring his emerald-green reflection in a mirror. He twirled in a circle to see how far out his cape would extend. Mary wondered how Satan found time to run the underworld. Then again, based on its state, maybe he didn’t. “So, do those idiots want anything legitimate?” asked Satan, still posturing with his cape. He wondered if it was reversible ...
“Define legitimate,” responded Mary without looking up. She continued scanning. “If I were on earth I would say yes, some are very reasonable.”
“Define reasonable,” sneered Satan. He turned away from the mirror and headed toward the door. “Never mind, I have things to do. You sift through their drivel and let me know what’s important.”
“Are you saying, you’re not going to help me?’ asked Mary in amazement.
“Of course I’m not.” replied Satan. “I’m too busy. I have souls to torture, people to manipulate, gloom and doom to spread and all kinds of havoc to wreak. Later today, I am going down — or up? — to Georgia for a fiddling contest rematch with a Jimmy or Joey… or … some crazy confederate chap.”
Satan referenced a Charlie Daniels Band’s song. “His name is Johnny, and you crashed out there last time. Are you dense enough for a rematch?” Mary asked. “Wait, before you run away, please. Will you tell me which minion is which?” She showed him Orange’s list of minion names.
“How should I know or care?” replied Satan. “I’m not good with names. Just put Thing #1, Thing #2 and so forth and so on.” He swept out of the room, catching his cape on the door hinge. Some of the cape tore and was left behind along with a strong smell of new smoke. Mary heard a trail of curses fading down the hall.
She giggled at his cape mishap; he was such a fop. He wanted her to read his mind and do everything according to his specs. Yet, she hadn’t witnessed his full temper. Nor did she desire this. Hell, she realized, was just another earth with worse light and honest job titles. Common earthly cliches and responses were as follows.
She felt a nudge by the Holy Spirit, “and more of your Dad.” Yes, she agreed. Now, her relationship with God made all the difference. Her proof was lemonade and her bountiful banana'd bay-window waterfall. At least no one set her on fire, yet. She was looking forward to —not just a heavenly reward — but being with Dad.
Duty called here back to reality, and she focused on minon proposals. There were the usual complaints plus common-sense requests. too. She laughed at some of their nonsense. It was hard not to like them.
“What immortal insanity!” guffawed Mary, laughing out loud. The irony is, they chose to come here. Mary was only a temp. They were on Satan’s time, and therefore, they did Satan’s bidding, period. Satan would never agree to any of this; he had enough problems managing minions. He didn’t even know their names. Mary did want to know these silly little ex-angels. A little information about weaknesses or vices, would go a long way with her ability to read people. Mary finished her notes. As advisor, Satan was the spokesman. However, it was her job to keep the process under control. None one else understood negotiation concepts. Conversely, everything in hell was done by manipulation and brute force. OK, she realized laughing, not so different from earth.
With Satan gone, she interjected her own agenda items. She was not concerned about eternity, just that her time in it. She wanted it short and pleasant. Satan agreed to provide refreshments, but she would bring her own. Who knows what watered-down, parasite-laden gruel, he would provide. She wanted no part of it. Besides in heaven, she liked her temporary meat suit, and their food was out of this world. Mary knew one thing. Satan would get his way no matter what minions wanted. She must make Satan perform good faith negotiations so both sides could walk away happy. Satan must not eat the minions when they disagreed. Outmanaging Satan, was going to take a miracle. Come Holy Spirit!
On her break, she peeled a Cavendish banana from her bonsai garden and organized her data base using the author Dante’s levels. Then, it was time to get back to work. Mary made name tents from Orange’s list: Ebenezious, Vladious, Adolphious, Stalinious and Hilarious. Hilarious must be the funny one. That in itself was hilarious since none of them were funny. Also, she needed name cards for herself and Satan. It had to be fair, she smirked. She wondered which of his many titles to use. She picked one and looked forward to his reaction when he was given his name card. Or could he not read? She would soon find out!
Meanwhile, in the minions’ caucus room …
The minions argued over who forgot to make proposal copies. Did anyone remember what they proposed, besides free beer?
Orange yelled over the banter, “let’s just see what Satan wants.” Reading aloud, “he wants higher quotas and harsher punishments. I don’t recall negotiating for this, but he is willing to provide ice water.” There was a long silence. They were elated because they got something!
Orange continued, “Not to be a buzzkill, but Satan wants us to do his bidding.”
“Like we don’t do that already?” interrupted Black.
“But he wants us to do it without complaining,” finished Orange. The minions burst out laughing.
“That’s funny” said Orange, “I never imagined Satan with a sense of humor.”
Back in the management caucus room ….
Mary finished reading the entire proposal, all 800+ pages. It was comical how they repeated stuff over and over. She got the hint, they wanted free beer. Initially, she kept track of how many times it appeared, then gave up for lack of interest.
Defeated, Satan trudged into their offices and slumped into a chair. Most of his cape was gone, and what was left was muddy. One of his helmeted horns was missing its tip. He sulked as mascara ran down his cheeks. Mary was afraid to ask.
“I finished reading their proposal,” Mary informed him. “They want free beer. It was written at least once on each of their 800+ pages of proposals.
“No,” retorted Satan. “Those idiots don’t appreciate the watered-down swill they get. Why should I give them the good stuff.”
Just then, Mary felt the Holy Spirit and a wave of gratitude. Even though she hated beer, she realized soon, she would taste the Cana wine. “Might you do anything good for them?” asked Mary.
“No!” replied Satan. “But if I did, it wouldn’t be free beer.”
“Before you are too hasty,” said Mary, “you may want to think about it. After all, you are the Master Manipulator. I am sure you can come up with something half-baked. You don’t have to give them free beer forever.”
“I’ll think about it,” Satan rubbed his chin. “You know, I could give them dragon voidings with soap suds and tell them it’s German beer. If I say water is beer enough times, they’ll believe me. Besides, does any one of them have the guts to talk back to me?”
“They had enough man-pixels to force you to the bargaining table.” Mary pointed out, “You could give them something out of gratitude,” said Mary.
Satan gagged, “what’s gratitude? If I did something nice, there must be an ulterior motive.”
Bingo. Mary’s seed was planted. She would wear him down. “Whatever,” said Mary, wondering why she presumed Satan had heart vibes. “So how do you plan to proceed?” Mary was reminding him that she was an observer, only.
“I have determined that I will let you do all the talking since you’re so good at it,” said Satan. “Isn’t that what women do best? I will sit back and look good.”
Mary considered bringing up the 15-year old Jewish girl who bested him in her silence. But, she didn't want to lose her political capital, yet. “I am a technical advisor, here as an assistant,” she corrected.
“Look Marian! You do the talking,” Satan stated. “You already know what I want.”
“Yes, Satan,” complied Mary. Clearly, he’d had a bad day. “You want minions to do your bidding and not complain,”
“Yes, and make me look like the nice, considerate Prince that I remain.” added Satan preening in the mirror. He wiped away more drooling mascara.
“I shall do my best,” said Mary. “What other miracles would you like from me?”
“Quite frankly,” answered Satan churlishly. “I would like your soul.”
“Why Satan, honesty becomes you!” mocked Mary. “I am forever grateful to Our Father for protecting it from you. Here’s what I’m thinking. We could agree to ice water and free beer.”
“What’s in it for me?” inquired Satan.
Mary thought, “it would be better to discuss it openly and hesitantly, before giving in to them. They should work for everything they get.”
“Excellent idea,” said Satan. “I am full of great ideas!”
Mary sighed resignedly, “yes, you are. By the way, you are providing basic refreshments. This is something we start tomorrow. We won’t get to it today.”
“I never agreed to provide refreshments,” Satan eyed Mary suspiciously.
Mary, used to selective-memory managers, said; “Yes, you did agree and we discussed it. Besides, you won’t need much. A few donuts, some water, etc.”
“Mickey, you and Viggo will take care of that,” said Satan.
“Brilliant idea. I’ll add it to your list of accomplishments.” Mary trailed …
< See below link for Chapter 21: “You have the right to remain silent” >
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 2: Jerking Satan’s Chain & the burning laptop
Chapter 3: “Hmm …. I guess I read that wrong”
Chapter 4: The devil is in the details
Chapter 5: And what was it they wanted to organize?
Chapter 6: Nothing is ever good enough
Chapter 7: What could be worse?
Chapter 9: It’s all in the sales pitch
Chapter 11: Just the first day
Chapter 12: Let’s get comfortable
Chapter 14: The 2nd day & who is messing with whom?
Chapter 15: The meeting of the minds—to waste
Chapter 16: The minions in the Caucus Room
Chapter 17: Stop & smell the roses
Chapter 18: Same evening, different place or the mindless are meeting
Chapter 19: Paper, Rock or Scissors
Chapter 20: My issues are stupider than yours!
Chapter 21: You have the right to remain silent
Chapter 22: Let the stupidity begin
Chapter 23: When in hell, it doesn’t matter what day it is
Chapter 24: Insolence at its finest
Chapter 25: Striking for the hell of it
Chapter 26: The signing ceremony
Chapter 27: Mary’s contingency is fulfilled
Science cannot explain suffering. As Lay Passionist and nurse, she challenges modern health care assumptions; contraception, abortion, euthanasia, herd immunity and more. Behind every health dilemma, God asks us to abide in Him. Author of 7 books & >20 peer-reviewed nursing journal articles; she also writes as "The Catholic Nurse" on Substack, see "Archives." She is a veteran of the Army Nurse Corps. Her primary charism is mercy through which she explores redemptive suffering, spiritual healing and the joy of bringing of souls to God.
