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6th January
posted by amber

Inspired by my birthday dinner (one day early) at Evil Dave’s in Jasper, this week’s first line is “The devil made me do it.”

Post your stories of around 600 words in the comment section below this posting. Have fun!

1 Comment

  1. Darryl Hurd


    “The devil made me do it.”
    The audience roared as the tall, handsome, well-dressed man delivered the punch line. It had being a good night at the comedy club. The tables were usually only about a half to three quarters filled on the best nights; but tonight, they were literally overflowing. This was mostly due to the fact that the headliner act for the evening was hometown boy, Cory Sharpe; a class clown in school whom had made it big in the entertainment world, and had decided to come back to where he grew up to let them see what he had become. He had grown famous from this one line ‘The devil made me do it’; the same line he used in school to cause others to laugh, even if it was at the expense of others.
    The comedian stopped, took a drink of his rum and coke, and continued his well-rehearsed and time proven routine. The part of his show that included someone from the audience to humiliate was drawing near, so Cory pointed his act towards this part, and began to finish off the joke he was telling.
    Cory looked into the audience. He knew who it was he wanted; he knew who it was he hoped to see.
    “There he is,” Cory thought to himself as he saw a man named David Coop standing in the very back of the room, leaning up against the bar. David Coop had been Cory’s favourite target in school for the butt of his cruel, and mostly demeaning, jokes.
    He finished his joke, and waited the appropriate time for the laughter to die down before talking.
    “I need someone to come up for a skit I have prepared,” Cory spoke into the microphone, scanning the room. His eyes settled on David at the back.
    “David?” Cory said loudly, feigning surprise at seeing him at the bar, “David Coop?”
    As he said David’s last name, he emphasized the ‘P’ at the end. Anyone from school, remembering how Cory called David, David ‘Poop’, snickered.
    David simply stood there, holding a pint of draft, his eyes looking at the top of the bar.
    “Come on, David,” Cory spoke once again, drawing David’s name out.
    “David…David…David…,” Cory chanted David’s name; the audience took up the chant.
    David finished his beer, set the mug down on the bar, put his hands into his pockets, and turned towards the stage.
    “David Coop, ladies and gentlemen,” Cory announced, his hand up towards David.
    As David stepped onto the stage, Cory smiled and put out his hand to shake his school mate’s hand.
    David looked at his hand, at Cory’s face, and then towards the audience.
    “Come on, buddy,” Cory said, his hand out, “Put ‘er there.”
    David withdrew his right hand, and held it out towards Cory. As the two men shook hands, David took his other hand out from his left pocket and slammed a knife deep into the surprised comedian’s chest.
    An immediate hush fell over the audience.
    “The devil made me do it,” David calmly said, turned and walked away.

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