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   Chapter 12 November th.

The Devil's Diary By Paul Kater Characters: 11789

Updated: 2018-02-11 12:04

Dear diary.

Had to run all of a sudden yesterday evening while writing. The phone rang. It was Nafaru. She had this "burning" desire to see me, she said. So I quickly changed and headed over to her place. After all, it seems she has the "hots" for me and in that case it is good to be quick and "keep the fire burning"! (Haha, that's good!) The pretty and mysterious Egyptian princess had a jug of very good Egyptian wine, which did not survive the evening and the night. And I mean the wine as well as the jug.

We are really hitting it off. My oh my. She had set up a really enticing atmosphere in her room, with incense and candles, and she was wearing something so thin that I really had to look twice or three times to actually see it. And believe you me, I was more than willing to look her over plenty of times, and that from up close too. Her invitation to 'feel if you cannot see' was one that I took up with an immense amount of pleasure, and that in turn caused her a lot of pleasure also.

Oh, did I mention sports last night? I think I have found my favourite one, and I am going to call it horizontal aerobics! And that's best done with a partner. Yeah! We agreed to another 'training session' this evening, so I am going to be all sporty again. Hah!

It was a good day today. First thing I saw, when I came in to the office, was a note from Maurice. He had received a message from a bunch of Africans who complained about something. So after the first coffee I headed over to the African area and hooray, yippee, colour me purple with pleasure, there was the shipment of oil and coal!! I don't understand how that got there as they have absolutely no use for it, but at least things are well again. I must tell Maurice that the stuff is in the picture again and that he can arrange for transport to get that stuff out to the eastern block guys so they can finally get back to business.

Maurice has a day off today, but I'll slap a note on his desk. First thing tomorrow. Because I forgot to do that today. Bugger. Maybe I'll do that after finishing this. The African chief who manages that section was glad I had come over so quickly as they were flabbergasted as to how the stuff got there, and they had no clue where to put it. Things will be fine though.

I just have to find Ivan the Terrible and kick him silly. I wonder what he does with his time. It certainly has nothing to do with retrieving that oil and coal and stuff. Then I headed back to the office rapidly. I had a meeting with Beauregard on what stuff we are going to order from the high tech guys. He was already waiting there for me and paging through the catalogue. He had already put circles around a hell of a lot of items that he was interested in.

We went over that stuff together, but I had to restrain his enthusiasm a bit. It's not like we have money to burn (haha, that's funny), so we have to watch what we can order. We did a bit of analysing, got Harv in for a moment to see what he thought (and what he said he could put up, as space is an issue also), and then we decided on a few nifty items. We ordered a pressure table, which is a table thing with a pressure chamber around it. Stick a soul on it, clamps lock it down automatically (we heard the clicks, they are magnificent) and then you can set the chamber to a solid bout of pressure, or make it alternate the pressure in either a preset way or set it to random punching. Whatever way you take, the effects are quite satisfying. When you can look in from the outside.

irty odd permanent residents, things became more interesting. Because I had had a good day yesterday (and an even better night!) I was sort of merciful and let a bunch of the stinkers go. Let Allah worry about them. If he can't handle them, they can always come back here. After all, we have space for nearly everyone here. (Note to self: must talk to Maurice about billboards with that.)

As we approached the three month limit I had had enough of the whole thing. It had taken longer than I had hoped for already, so I rose and told them that the rest would have to hang out in their designated places of hell another month. And what do you guess: up pops imam Kharusuf Ben Ahmed. The screamer that hasn't been here for even a month, the one that had been complaining about the directions to Zamhareer. He started yapping at me that he had been punished enough and that he was entitled to scoot on also.

"Who the heck are you to decide that?" I asked him.

"I claim my right!" he yelled.

"You have only one right, " I then said, "and that is the frigging right to remain silent!"

The guy was really getting on my nerves in record time.

He argued again, talking about the bad circumstances compared to what he had lived in on earth. Hey, here is your reality check, buster. This is hell. If you end up in this area, courtesy of your religion, you have done enough boo-boo's to warrant that. He tried another time, at which I really got annoyed, so I brought out the whip and had a good lashing out at him. That is when I noticed I need to practice more with that thing. I had planned to take off his head-dress, instead I took of a part of his ear. Bummer. But the effect was good anyway. First off, he stopped his whining, and secondly the whole community bit the dust again, bowing and paying their utmost respects.

After rolling up the whip and accepting the scroll with the names that had signs (marking who had left, who had stayed) behind them, I told them I was leaving. They brought along the wretched carrying chair again, wobbled me out, and there I got onto the carpet again. The air demon still was there, as agreed, so he took me home quickly and that was that.

Now I am going to try, once more, to brush those dreadful paint-on tattoos off my arms and face. Just to make sure I don't scare Nafaru in case she calls...

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