Angels of Retribution

Pink & Blue: Angels of Retribution

In the cosmic tapestry of the afterlife, where the threads of morality intertwine with the fabric of eternity, two peculiar entities reign supreme over the realm of divine punishment. Meet Pink and Blue, the self-proclaimed "Angels of Retribution" - a dynamic duo whose existential purpose is to ensure that karma bites back with the force of a supernova.

Pink, a dazzling embodiment of feminine fury, sports a shock of bubblegum hair that seems to crackle with electric vengeance. Her counterpart, Blue, is a walking testosterone tornado with cerulean locks that would make even the most jaded smurf weep with envy. Together, they preside over "Retribution" - a hell of their own devising where imagination runs wild and rehabilitation runs screaming for the hills.

A Slice of Afterlife

Our tale begins on a Tuesday. (Because let's face it, even in the afterlife, Tuesdays are the worst.) Pink reclines on a throne fashioned from the compressed hopes and dreams of failed multi-level marketing schemes, filing her nails with the edge of a corrupt politician's broken promises.

"Darling," she drawls to Blue, who's busy arranging a bouquet of withered souls, "I'm simply famished for some fresh meat. These stale sinners are starting to bore me."

Blue, ever the attentive partner in crime (and punishment), perks up like a meerkat on espresso. "Well, sugar plum of suffering, I believe I have just the thing to satiate your appetite for anguish."

With a flourish that would make a matador blush, Blue produces a glowing orb. Inside, a portly figure in an ill-fitting suit squirms like a worm on a hot sidewalk. "Fresh from the mortal coil," Blue announces with pride, "One Douglas P. Embezzleton, former CEO of MegaCorp Industries and master of creative accounting."

Pink's eyes light up with a gleam that would send shivers down the spine of a ghost. "Ooh, a white-collar criminal! How delightfully... cliché. What shall we do with him, my azure avenger?"

Blue strokes his chin thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face like oil on water. "Well, my rosy reckoner, I believe our friend Mr. Embezzleton here was quite fond of... cutting corners."

The duo share a look of diabolical glee, their laughter echoing through the infinite expanse of Retribution like the world's most terrifying laugh track.

The Slice and Dice Extravaganza

In a flash of inspiration (and a puff of brimstone), Pink and Blue transform their little corner of hell into a grotesque parody of a corporate boardroom. Poor Douglas finds himself strapped to a chair, facing a projection screen that flickers to life with images of all the lives he ruined through his financial malfeasance.

"Welcome to your eternal performance review, Dougie!" Pink chirps, her voice dripping with saccharine malice. "I'm afraid your numbers just aren't adding up."

Blue, now sporting a power tie made of writhing snakes, nods solemnly. "Indeed, it seems we'll have to make some... cuts."

With a snap of Pink's fingers, Douglas's consciousness fractures. He finds himself existing simultaneously in every cell of his body, each one a separate island of awareness. Blue, wielding a letter opener forged from the regrets of a thousand procrastinators, begins to slice.

Each cut is precise, surgical - and agonizing. Douglas experiences the unique horror of being divided into ever-smaller pieces, his psyche scattered like confetti at the world's most twisted party.

"How's that for corporate restructuring?" Pink cackles, as Blue meticulously arranges the pieces of Douglas's soul into a macabre jigsaw puzzle.

The torment continues for what feels like eons, each fragment of Douglas's being forced to relive the consequences of his earthly misdeeds. His consciousness ping-pongs between scraps of his former self, a kaleidoscope of karmic retribution.