Sloth: Bel's Everything Chair
A slim young woman is sitting in a maroon reclining chair. She’s watching the finale of Breaking Bad on a flatscreen television. When the credits appear, she swivels around in her chair to face the Camera man, tears falling from her blue eyes.
Belphegor: Goodnight, sweet prince…
Camera man: Uh, ma’am, I’m here to record your commercial.
Bel: Oh yeah…
She takes out a pile of crumpled papers lodged in her chair, and after studying them for a few moments, she throws them to the ground.
Bel: Who writes this crap? Anyway, my name is Belphegor, Demon of Sloth. Most people call me Bel, because frankly I’m too lazy to say my full name-
Camera man: This isn’t in the script.
Bel ignores him and points at the audience.
Bel: Are you too busy binge-watching shows on Netflix to go to the bathroom?
Camera man: Not really.
A mini fridge pops out of the side of Bel’s chair, brimming with soda and chips.
Bel: Well I’ve got news for you, random consumer! I call this “Bel’s Everything Chair! It’s already stocked with a fridge, working toilet, bed, wheels, computer, and even a flamethrower because I felt like it! You can do anything in it, from watching TV to sleeping to taking over the world! And the best thing is that it’s only 4,000 dollars and half of your soul.
Camera man: Half of your soul?
Bel: More than half of a soul is too much work.
Bel takes a deep breath.
Bel: Side effects may include laziness, muscle atrophy, obesity, no friends, death of your loved ones, arson, bankruptcy, death, destruction, and half of your soul roasting in Hell. So buy now!
Bel looks over at the Camera man with a smile on her face, and an Everything Chair pops out of nowhere.
Camera man: Okay, I’ll sit down for a while.
The camera turns off.
******
Ryan Winkler, demonhunter extraordinaire, lounged on his ragged couch eating X-tra Cheezy Cheeze Pops™. Dirty underwear and stale food littered the tiny apartment and his Hunting equipment leaned against a wall, bought over time with the help of his Mom.
It was Halloween, and instead of doing something productive like hunt down malicious demons or ghosts, he decided to take the night off. He burped loudly and patted his large stomach. That crazy spirit that was probably just the wind had made him hungry.
He lazily surfed the channels on TV, skipping past “Ghosthunters”, muttering about the amateurs. He flipped between two channels, one with infomercials about falling down and not being able to get up, and the other a show about how aliens had created humans...
He was about to fall into a cheesy stupor when his chubby fingers accidently hit 666 on the remote. At first there was a staticy screen . Then loud applause burst from the TV and he fell off the couch, knocking his Pops™ to the ground.
“The fuck…” He groaned and looked at the screen. It flashed red and orange, almost blinding him. He ducked for cover, only to see a man wearing a red suit and top hat step out from the TV. He turned his face to the poor demonhunter, looking at him curiously with his large fly-like eyes, and a dead flower on his hat drooped over his face. Insect wings protruding from his back buzzed loudly.
