The Devil's Diary

Dear diary.

It was quite the day again. It started off nicely, with the lawns all clean, the clientèle mostly happy and even the workers did not seem to have much of a problem with everything. Of course, there were the usual petty things, but nothing to get worked up about. Well, not until the afternoon anyway. That is when the stuff that you don't want to tread on really hit the ventilation systems. Urgh. Ventilation systems. Don't want to hear about those in a LONG time!

It started with someone coming in, complaining about sore eyes. Sore eyes what? The guy muttered something about smoke, but was mostly incoherent, so I told him to see a medic, get his eyes checked and don't bug me as there was more stuff on my desk to handle. You'd think that people around here would be able to take care of themselves, wouldn't you?

Anyway, about an hour later a few more people came in who had asked to see me. Maurice showed them in. Man, did they look sad!! So what could I do. I asked them what their problem was, hoping it was not another set of sore eyes. But that was not the case. Unfortunately.

They said they were the day-shift operators of the smoke machine in the Christian section. It took a while, with all their complaining and cursing, before I found out that the ventilating machine is malfunctioning.

So I asked them why they did not fix it. Well, they did. Or rather: they had tried. And it had not really yielded the results they had aimed for. The idiots broke it even further. Well, that at least gave me a clue why that other guy had shown up with smoked up sore eyes. Thanks a lot, folks.

So I had to call up a repair crew for the venting system of the Christian section. They could have done that themselves, but they waved their contract to me. There was some glitch in it, that they were not responsible for stuff like that, and so they expected me to do all that. Dammit.

After that these folks left and refused to go back to work until the problem was fixed. Right, I can understand that. Hanging out in a room that is filled with smoke is not something a person would opt for when they are in control of their full mental capabilities. But hey, it takes all kinds to make the world go round, as they say there. And they're right. We have a space for everyone here. (Sounds like a motto, maybe we should have banners like that. Must talk to Maurice about that.)

So I made my way down to the Christian section. It had been a while since I went there, so basically that was a good thing happening with a bad thing. Too bad the day-shift operators neglected to inform me that the elevator had broken down as well, so I had to go down all these stairs! Do you know how deep down that pit is? Blimey, I should have been smarter when I dug out that hole. I am sure there are tricks we can do with mirrors and such. Better planning next time.

But all well and good, I get to the bottom there, locate the smoke machine engine room and decide to switch off that thing completely until the air conditioning system is up and running again. Okay, that would keep the operators away, no more complaining from them and all things are cherry. Hah. Forget about that.

There I was, coughing from the smoke, and hauling myself up the stairs again. I almost made it to the exit, when Humphrey, one of the managers of the Christian section, came chasing after me. You never had dealings with him, and believe me: you do not want dealings with him.

He went off at me, demanding an explanation for the sudden absence of smoke. I explained to him that the operators could not work the machine because of the ventilation and so on. He understood that, but he wanted to know when the bloody thing was getting fixed.

"We have a reputation to uphold, you know, " he said to me, "and we don't want to cut back on services. Our local clients expect smoke among other things, and smoke then is what they will have."

So I asked him what he was going to do about that. Hire a bunch of smokers and stuff their faces with cigarettes?

And honest, as real as I am writing this, the bugger's face lit up and thanked me for the idea. Wow. I had not expected to get rid of him that easily. And of course I didn't.

When I finally made it to the top of the stairs, my phone rang and it was the same guy again, Humphrey. Could I please provide a truckload of cigarettes, and would it be okay for the smokers to use the room where usually the smoke system operators sit, because otherwise the cigarettes would be reduced to ashes before they had a real good puff. (Haha, that's funny.)

So I called Maurice to first check the operator's contracts. I don't want my ass chewed over the fact that there are smokers in the operator room, causing a bad health environment. But according to Maurice there was no clause in the contract about that, so I gave the manager the okay for the smokes. You have to take a chance at times. But I did tell Maurice to modify the contract for eventualities like that, so we are safe for future events from now on.

On the way back I saw a few folks heading towards the pit. I asked them where they were going and learnt that they were actually the repair crew. They were going to have a look at the thing, to see what needed fixing. I told them about the elevator and that they had to fix that also. But they said that they were not the elevator repair people and I had to call another division for that.

Somewhere something has gone terribly wrong here, diary. I am seriously considering to raise a new Hell and see how I can avoid all these things next time. Shiver me timbers, or what is it that pirates say.

On the way back to the house I met a bunch of souls that were not all too steady on their feet. After my asking them what was wrong with them, they explained that there was nothing wrong. They were Pagan souls that had been out and about for Samhain. Oh, right. Halloween. So what has taken you so long to come back here, I asked them.

They had a bit of difficulty finding the right words when they started talking, and they also had problems remembering that everyone talking at once makes for hard understanding. Finally they managed to inform me that they had popped over to a pub where the living had set up food and drink for the ancestors, and the drink had been mead. Mead that had been flowing liberally too.

And that was the reason they were not all that stable on their feet, and it had also very much affected their sense of direction. I hope they are not making a habit out of that, because then THEIR mead will give ME a headache! I told them that they were way off course also, since they usually have no business in or near the Christian section. They immediately had funny ideas of playing ghost there, but I told them that they were missing the point, as there were no living souls there that would be scared of them.

The drunk Pagans were a bit disappointed about that, but that did not last long. Lacking someone near, I took them out of the Christian section myself, guided them through a shortcut through the African section (which I hope they don't remember later) and then delivered them in their own area again. Good thing too, most others there were already looking for these guys, so that was a deed well done.

When I got back to the house, Maurice handed me a note that had come in from Pete. You guessed it, it was about the smoke. Pete kindly requested that I take care of the smoke problem they had experienced for some hours in Heaven. Their clients should not have to deal with things like that, as they had lived decent lives and therefore were selected for a pleasant afterlife

"If we want smoke, we'll organise a barbecue, " he wrote. Yeah, he does have a good sense of humour, the old chap. Well, sod them anyway, I have other things on my hands than that. But at least the repair crew was working on the ventilation system. Now I just hope that the smokers don't blow it (haha, that's funny), I can do without these notes. Pete's a really nice guy but when he gets miffed about something, he really becomes a pain in the rear end.

I do have to remember to fill out and send the order for new oil and coal for the old "eastern block" section, they let me know that their supplies are running low. There's a genuine problem with the mindset of these guys, they don't seem able to place that order themselves. All has to be done in their bureaucratic ways, every level doing its own thing and nobody ever dares to venture into something new. Bloody Bolsheviks with their forms and stamps. Oil. Coal. And there was something else. Maurice will know.

The elevator repair group called me just now and told me that they will go and have a look at the elevator in the Christian section somewhere next week. They have a lot of their people out on trainings. There are some new automatic escalators, and some clever sausage managed to make them responsible for maintenance on those things too. Way to go, I should find the guy who pulled that off and give him a bonus. And make him an assistant or something.

I do hope that Humphrey, the manager there, is going to lay low for a while. Must remember to send him a note that the repair team will be with him as soon as they can.

There was an interesting tidbit in the mail today. A big brochure from a company that has a really new approach to the core business: a high-tech setup for Hell. Sounds interesting. The pictures are very appealing also, lots of gleaming chrome, interesting electrical appliances and stuff like that. I am sure that especially the Americans here will appreciate stuff like that. I must ask Maurice to give these guys a call and see if they have something more that I can have a look at. Maurice will handle the technical stuff, I don't want to get caught up in that as well. And he likes all that stuff, so good for him.

Right. I should be getting myself cleaned up now. A visit to that smoky pit makes for a messy appearance, and I am up for a poker game with Pete, Gabe and Baal this evening. Long time ago that we had such a relaxed night, we should do that more. Pete said he'd supply the drinks and knowing him he'll be bringing the really good stuff. Hah, the pope would cry his eyes out if he knew about that!

Oh, shit, still need to get that container of cigarettes out, before Humphrey comes after me again... Hope I won't show up late for the poker game.

Dear diary.

I sometimes wonder how in Hell (haha, that's funny) I put up with this lot here! Yesterday the ventilation guys went to the Christian section to repair the busted machine, and they got into a brawl with the smokers there. Damn me and my slick ideas.

The repair people did not repair, the smokers left the place so there's no smoke and Humphrey was on my case again most of the morning. Maurice then went over there and when he came back the ventilation system was up and running again. That man's a miracle. He said he just kicked it and it started working. I think he's an angel, the way he winged it. (Haha, that's funny!) Anyways, the smoke system operators are back on their jobs so that's taken care of.

But as the law of persisting misery goes, something else broke down again. And of course, in the Christian section again. Why do they always want all these complicated things. Don't they understand that the more technology you bring in, the more is going to break?

This time the soul devouring apparatus stopped. A mechanical problem with the shutter synchronising with the conveyor belt or something. Normally a soul for that section is dropped through dark clouds while begin rained upon with hot oil (or hot salty water if the oil runs out, you must have backup plans), falls through a bout of thunder and lightning (yes, the special effects group did a really nice job there) and then the soul falls through the devouring machine. Shutter opens at the very last moment (for a good scare), soul drops on the conveyor, is taken past the Blazing Fires of Hell(tm), is then carted off to the grim place that they so desperately want, and that's that. But now the shutter failure blocks the throughput, so we are facing a real situation.

A bloody nuisance is that the repair group for that unit is not to be found. Looks like someone messed up with the vacation roster or something. There are only four people that know something about the thing, which is a bad thing already. Maurice has been doing all he can to round up someone who can at least take a look at the shutter and get it to move again, if only in an improvised way. When something like this happens, it is very embarrassing.

Maurice told me that there were plenty of folks interested in looking at the equipment, but none of them dared to tinker with it. Afterwards Maurice found out that all these people wanted to do was have a look at the construction, the bloody nosy bastards! When I heard that, believe me, I wish I could have told them to go to hell. (And no, that is NOT funny!)

At first I was really glad that no one started nagging me about it, because Humphrey seemed to have the afternoon off, but then there was this guy Dudley. Is he lucky to be dead or what... if he wasn't yet, he would be now. Humphrey, believe me, is a GOD compared to Dudley. I am going to get a new mobile phone. And Dudley is not getting the number to it-

Dang. That was him again. The Dud-man. Don't ask. Dudley first called Maurice to ask how he could file an official complaint about the lousy performance of the machinery that he had to manage. Maurice told him. An hour later I had four complaint forms on my desk already! Don't ask me how the friggin' idiot managed to get them there, but he pulled it off.

One about the problem with the devouring machine as it is, one about the bad syncing with the conveyor, one that he is suffering from embarrassment as he has to walk all the newly arriving souls down a ladder instead of having them enter the regular way, and finally one in which he claims he is not paid enough for all this labour and asks a raise. I'll raise him something he's never had raised before if he sends in one more form.

Maurice is a gem as a secretary and side-kick kind of person. He managed to keep most problem makers off my back most of the day and also got in touch with the people from the high-tech stuff that sent me some interesting things yesterday. He said that they will see if they can set up something nice for me to come and look at. I am curious. This could be something very innovative. Perhaps I should take one of the guys from the old eastern block section with me. See how they react to all that bling bling stuff. He wouldn't risk a heart attack! (Haha, that's funny!)

Or should I take the Dud-man along and try all these new things out on him? Now there's a thought...

I have to admit that I was sort of anxious about the whole Christian hell thing and how they were handling things, so I snuck over there and had a look. All in all I must say that they were doing well, given the circumstances. It was a good thing that someone thought of it to switch off most of the special effects. There are only few things more stupid than climbing your dead soul down a ladder while at the same time thunder and lightning happens, screams from the pit come up and then the broken shutter tries to open, making no more than dumb whimpering sounds. Also watching them trot along the conveyor belt is a bit shameful. But let's face it, better this way than no way in at all. And making them all wait up there until we have this problem handled isn't exactly the paragon of hospitality. High-five for back doors. Too bad that the system broke down, the effects combined are really a good show. Well, once it's fixed I'll arrange a proper descent into hell for the good- eh make that the -bad- souls that are hooked on experiencing the real thing.

After that I had a bit of a stroll. All those things wear a person out, even if this person is the devil himself.

Carefully staying out of sight of the Dud-man, I worked my way to the African section. Things usually are quite relaxed there, as most African tribes don't really fear a devil as such. Only the Kamitics and the likes don't seem to trust me. They claim that the devil is merely something inside people that fights the good side of nature. At first this was a bit unnerving to me, since it struck me as a rejection of my position, but after I got to know them better, the situation between us improved dramatically. They just see me as a friend that checks up on them occasionally, which works for both sides.

As I was there, I had a look at the latest exercises in landscaping that have been done there. Some of the African tribes had asked for a lake with fish. They always were fishermen and they don't want to quit that simply because they're dead. Well, why not.

The lake came out pretty nice. The landscape people really added a few nice touches, like the spots where you can walk straight over it (I know, not very original but a nice twist) and a small island with a fresh water tap. The dead fish for the dead fishermen is a nice idea too! I should go back there some evening, apparently they even put in a few strings of lights underwater that have to give the place a really special look.

Come to think of it, I noticed a drop in African natives coming in here a while ago. For quite a while they were not allowed in Heaven. Pete had strict orders to stop them and you know Pete. Give him an order and it is cast in iron and nailed to the cross for all to see.

But there are quite a few different races here, which makes this place such a nice melting pot (haha, that's funny). You can run into every kind and type here. A nice mix of breeds, and there's always something cooking.

I stopped by the Pygmies and had a taste of their latest brew. Their beers here are a lot better than those when they were alive, they claim. Must say that the stuff has a certain appeal, although I would not swap it for the mead that the Pagans have. They really put their soul into that. (Haha, now that IS funny!)

Which reminds me, I should note this down. The poker night last night with Peter, Baal and Gabe. Man, that was some kind of fun, you should have been there, diary! Pete had promised to supply the drinks and he really did good. The wine he had along was really some nectar of the gods, like the Greeks say.

I do think that Baal drank the least of us all purposely. After a while he started winning every hand and that is strange. He usually quits quite early, owing the others a decent bundle of change.

But we had a ball together. Gabe at one moment was so intoxicated that he wanted to wager his wings during a game. Good thing he didn't, he would have lost them. And they're not my size either. (Haha, now that's funny!) Note to self: remember not to shake head violently after poker night with the guys. It hurts. Like Hell.

This evening I got an invitation from the Pagan community. More specifically from the Asatru people. They are really having a ball here, and for that they throw a party at regular times. I had to accept that of course. A good party once in a while is what makes death to die for, that's what I say. I already got in touch with Thor and Odin, asking them if they wanted to trot along over there tomorrow as well. After all, the Asatru are their crowd, so that would make the party a real kicker!

Thor agreed promptly, he said he'd bring a few extra hammers and perhaps there could be a hammer-throwing contest. Odin also agreed to come, but he had some reservations about Thor's hammer-act, but I managed to convince him that he should do a few of his shape-shifter tricks. Those are amazing to see, and it's not just me who never gets enough from that.

Hmm. I should ask Maurice over also. The man's slaving all day to get all the work done, he deserves a break. Especially with the Dud-man on his tail all afternoon. I'm sure the Asatru won't mind. They're cool people, although in the cool department nothing beats an Eskimo, as I always say. I hope they will dress up with their horned helmets, axes, swords and spears. Oh, wait... no spears. Odin would get pretty nervous around them. Must be there early and tell them NO SPEARS.

Dear diary.

I kissed Maurice this morning. He found the phone number of one of the guys for the shutter and conveyor belt problem!! The bleeping thing had given me a bad dream all night long.

Marcus, the repair chap, got to work on it but he couldn't get the shutter to work by himself. He had to go out and collect a few of his mates, he said. He's probably from Australia, judging from his funny accent. But his mates were from Ireland, so I should be careful calling his accent funny. As soon as Maurice told me that Marcus was on the job, I headed over there to supervise the entire affair. After all, you have got to show some interest in what's going on there, and showing up when things are turning to the better is the best public relations a devil can get, right?

Marcus and his mates worked hard, I have to give them credit for that. They were on the rig all day. Humphrey (thankfully he was back) kept bringing drinks for them. These Irish... are amazing. Their humour is only exceeded by their thirst. And their humour is endless. Go figure that one out.

They got the shutter working again, so that bit is good. They had to order a few parts for the conveyor belt though. There was a... an... well, there was something broken that they couldn't mend. Oh, right, gear wheel, that's what they called it.

While they were doing what they could, Michael called and asked if I had time for coffee. Sure thing. I mean, don't think that supervising the repairs of the soul devouring machine is just standing there and look as if you know what the heck is going on. It's standing there and... ehm... well, I really needed some coffee too, so I met Michael at the house.

Always good, meeting up with Michael. He is always current on the latest goss news and interesting facts that go on in his neck of the woods, and then it is my duty to bring him up to date on the latest that is going on here.

He was a bit worried about the shutter and conveyor thing. "Do you know when the contraption will be operational again?" he asked. He was seriously concerned about the reputation of the Christian section, and with reason of course. It's his business as well. I assured him that we're doing everything we can to get the thing back online again so the inflow of souls is not hindered anymore. To show him that I meant business I called Humphrey, the manager on duty there. Humphrey told me that things were looking good, which I told Mike. Humphrey then told me that the broken thingamabob could not be delivered until tomorrow, which I did not tell Mike. No need to worry him with stuff he can't influence, right?

So I wished the guys at the pit all the best. Michael was relieved to hear that things were going ahead well, so that was a good thing.

"I am glad no gear wheels got damaged, " he said, "those things are really hard to get. Once you get into that kind of mess, you'd be out of business for a long time." Did my best not to follow him down that road, and succeeded.

Mike then told me about a new release of the software that will be implemented on the Sky Lan network. Heavensoft 2007. Figures, as the last one was Heavensoft 2006. It seems to have a lot of new features.

I mentioned that to Maurice after Mike had left, and Maurice was not a happy camper. He wondered how many new bugs we would be facing this time. The crappy thing is that their network and ours are still linked, so everything they get is what we get also. Maurice then said he'd get in touch with Beauregard, to see if we can split off our network segment. So I said 'by all means, whatever'. Network segment. I doubt you can eat that.

Anyways, Mike hung out for a while longer as we discussed all kinds of neat things, but then he got a call from his boss so he had to fly. (Haha, that's funny.)

Before I could head out to the Christian pit again, a message came in. From the old eastern block place. Running extremely low on oil, coal and tar, it said. Damn, I ordered their stuff two days ago, so why are they complaining? Usually these deliveries are near instantaneous. Maurice was not there, so I called the delivery place myself and they were really surprised. They told me that they had delivered the order first thing next morning, so their end of the deal was all covered.

I asked them who had signed the receipt, but the man could not read the signature. Too smudged, he said. Bugger. I hate it when things go bad like that.

Managed to chase down Ivan the Terrible and told him to investigate this case. He will do his best for that. After all, it is the hell-section from his former empire. He hasn't gotten back to me about it though, which is a bad sign. Note to self: ask Ivan why he is taking so long to recover the shipment.

Then I went over to the guys who were still slaving over the shutter problem. Marcus and Stanley had gotten in some welding equipment and they were trying to fix the busted gear wheel. I got up close to see what they were doing, but "hell, that's hot!" (Haha, isn't that funny.)

Somehow they got the wheel parts together again and when they stuck it in the system seemed to work again. They manually cranked the shutter open and secured that. It is still not synchronised with the conveyor, but at least that bit of the soul devouring machinery is working again, so we fired up the special effects, took the ladders down and tossed a few test-souls in. As that went well, Humphrey and the Dud-man were satisfied and confident, so with one of the repair chaps on standby they started up their business again.

I guess we are in the clear with that for now, as long as the wheel holds. When the new one comes in, Marcus told me, they need a few hours to replace it, but then things should be "on fire" again. But it is good to see the souls fall down again, engulfed with the screaming, the fire and the smoke. Not really my cup of tea, but that's what they want, so that's what they should get.

Some more nice things happened today.

A busload of lawyers came in. I don't understand why everyone living is so worked up about lawyers. We have a nice collection of them over here already, and they are sooo convenient! Whenever there is a contract to be drawn up between Hell and Heaven, I have the edge. I have so many lawyers to scrutinise the paperwork that the Heaven guys go nuts over all the amendments, clauses and appendixes. Hah, they almost never get away with anything that way. Yes. I gloat. Tell me I am wrong for doing so and then try to prove it! How many lawyers can you afford? (Haha, that's funny!)

It's interesting to get so many of them in at once. They had been in a bus, on their way to a convention of sorts, when the bus driver had gone slightly off his rocker and taken the bus down a ravine. It struck me that we never got that bus driver in. Apparently he went to the other place, which is odd. And can we spell meaningful? Hah.

Another nice thing is the birds. I love birds. I wrote about that a few times already, I think. Yes. Birds are neat. I am glad not all of them go to the other place, they brighten up things here. Most of the clientele here also appreciate the birds being there.

Some like them for the colours and the songs. Some like them for the feathers and the meat. And then there are people who pray to them. Well, to each their pick, right?

Maurice showed up in time for the Asatru party. The party. Yes, another one of the nice things. Odin was here in time too, but Thor took his bloody time. We went up to the party-grounds ahead of him. Afterwards we found out that Thor had brought in too many hammers, the weight had held him back. But he made it, so that was good.

The Asatru threw a kick-ass party. Man, their beer is better than that of the Pygmies and it doesn't make your head spin like theirs does. The folks were delighted that they could welcome Odin and Thor. They kept shouting "Wassail" and drinking beer and wine and mead from their long horned cups.

Found out that there's quite a trick to drinking from those things. Do it wrong and you have your drink all over you! But that too was good fun. It just makes you smell unpleasant after a while, but by that time nobody noticed anymore.

Odin organised a sing-song contest, which was really nice. Then he tried to set up a kind of literary and poetry circle. Thor cut him short on that, luckily. More people were into hammer throwing than for poems and rhymes.

The hammer throwing was great. Maurice has a darned good hand at throwing hammers accurately. Thor even invited him over for some private lessons. I hope he is not trying to steal Maurice away from me, he's a most valuable assistent. Wouldn't know what to do without him. And perhaps I should also watch my back for a while. And secure all hammers around here...

After the hammer throwing there was plenty of time for dancing and singing. Odin assembled an impromptu choir and had them do a recital of all kinds of songs. I did not understand most of them, they sang many of them in a language that is even worse to me than Greek. But it sounded nice, and as most people were laughing I am sure the lyrics were hilarious also.

As that part of the party was going on, lots of other people came around also. I had the extreme pleasure of dancing with an Egyptian princess, a real looker. A poison monger also, that's why she's here, but hey, as long as she doesn't give people hell here, that's fine. (Haha, that's funny!) Got her phone number, so that is promising!

Strange bit is that we never saw Loki. He's a real party animal, so why he missed out on this one...