H-E-Double-Hockeysticks (Euphemism)

I was fuming. He was the most irritating person I knew. And with me, explosive anger = incoherency. Prepare yourself. I’m so pathetic it’s almost indecent.

I started yelling. And trust me, he deserved the too-close-for-comfort view of my tonsils.

“I hate you!”

“What did I do?”

“You existed.”

“Shut up.”

“Go to h-” My voice abruptly stopped on the “it” word. Ugh. Here we go. I tried again.

“Go to h- ....Go there!”




“The place with flames! The devil’s…hometown!!”

He stared at me with fear in his heart. I sympathized for about…one second. Then I got over it.

“GO. TO. H-” An eye twitched.


“Fire! Brimstone! The Underworld! Beezlebub’s hidey-hole…The place where you’re going!”

“Um…away from you?”

I yanked him back and he staggered into me.

He growled: “What the hell?”

I beamed and promptly kissed him on the cheek. My torture was over, ended, gone forever.


Wait a second…

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