Hell

Hell's Kitchen is known as a horribly brutal place in New York. It's also a literal spot in the after world. In Hell's Kitchen, the Don, the Godfather, was making spaghetti, his favorite meal. Since dying, and staying dead, he had found that he was a terrific cook. Since even the Don had a lesser amount of power than Satan did, he accepted his destiny. He would cook spaghetti everyday to be served at the House was still the Don and Satan wanted him to hear about it. It made the Don livid He told his kitchen helpers, “I want those three to be made quiet.

His helpers understood what he said clearly. Since removing the cotton from his mouth, the Don was speaking very clearly. Not very brightly, just very clearly. “Uh, Donnie, that might be a little damn tricky, being as they’re already dead”, one of his helpers, Jeffrey Dahmer, told him. “Eh, paisano, I don’t plan, I order. It's about respect and honor. Don‘t got that, don‘t gotta nothing”, the Don yelled at him. Dahmer didn’t like being yelled at. He thought that the next spaghetti might have some out of the ordinary ingredients in it. Perhaps some very different, unique meatballs. Maybe two special meatballs.

Dahmer would have a slice of liver and maybe some barbecued ribs. He'd give the heart to Manson to keep him happy. This talent Manson had was a natural part of him. His guards, armed to the teeth, all wanted Manson to take a final trip to Hell but were too afraid of him to fake a prison break so they could kill him. Manson didn’t know what his capability was; only that he had it. Even the demons kept their distance from him when he’d come down. Only the Big Palooka, Satan, would even come near him and then none too closely. Manson tried his stare on Satan the first trip down and Satan just out-giggled him. Satan gave Manson the creeps. Manson gave Satan the wellies but Satan couldn't admit it or Manson would be the Devil when he died.

When the Don first arrived in Hell, Satan himself met him at the Gates of Hell. The Don, for all his worldliness, didn’t have a clue about this world. He thought of himself as the God of his world. Maybe he was but this wasn’t his world, it was Satan’s. Satan looked the Don over and started laughing. This stunned the Don. No one laughed at him; no one showed him disrespect. Yet, he didn’t seem to be able to think of any way to do anything about it. What a strange feeling. “Welcome to Hell! Yu’re going to meet up with a lot of old friends and a lot of old enemies. Better watch your ass, old man. No one here is going to watch it for you. I’m making you the Chef in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Then, I’m going to ruin everything you make. Your reputation is going to Hell in a hand-basket. A little joke I like to tell. Laugh, you little shit! The Don found himself laughing. He had never laughed in his entire life. He found that he feared this Satan, another feeling he had never had. He didn't think he was going to like Hell.

Satan then told him, “Oh, and yank those cotton balls out of your mouth or I’ll have them ripped out through your ass which you better watch down here Watch out for Dahlmer.”

That cannibal would probably still be there though. Who knows”what he ate? When the Don got back to his kitchen, that's how he thought of it, he found the cannibal eating meat. The Don was curious but not that curious. “Hey! Where'd the other guy go?” the Don asked Dahmer.

“Back” Dahmer replied. “Back to his cell, I guess. No place else he can go.”

“He went back to his cell? How can he do that? I can't go back to my house and my respect.” “Look, man, I don't give a rat's ass about your respect. Okay? All I know is Manson comes and goes.”

“How?”

“How? How the Hell would I know. He just does.”

“I’ like to go back too. So how come he can and I can't?”The Don asked.

“You want to go back? You're dead. If you go back, you go back to a box buried in the ground. Man, that's creepy,”Dahmer shuddered.

“Then how come that Fenomeno da baraccone gets to go back to his cell?”

“Because he ain't dead! God ants him in Hell and he'll put him here when he dies but he won't strike him dead or whatever it is he does.” Manson just laughs and stays alive. God must figure if the government won't kill him and Manson won't kill himself off, then he ain't going to do it either. On the other hand, since God wants Manson in Hell, why would he stop him from coming here?”

“Why does he allow him to go back?”

“I already told you. Manson ain't dead. There is no time in infinity, man. Manson comes and goes back and no one back there knows it. Pretty cool, huh?”

“I want to go back to my house and my respect,”the Don said again.

“Tell you what you do. Take it up with Satan. Thing of it is, Satan doesn't have any respect for you. He doesn't have respect for God, so who the Hell are you? He doesn't respect himself even. You go whining to him and you might end up on latrine duty, wiping asses with your bare hands.”

The Don entered his kitchen. That's how he thought of it. His. At least here, he was in charge. He saw that the tattooed, crazy man wasn't there and, for once, the other crazy guy wasn't there either. The Don let out a sigh but shouldn't have. Moments later, Dahmer came running, all happy and excited. “Hey, Don, guess who coming to dinner tonight for one of your spaghetti dinners? Guess.”

“Who?“ “Nope. Guess again.”

“I was asking who. I’m not playing a guessing game with you”,he Don said. The Don didn't like the things that came out of this guy's mouth. For that matter, he didn't like what went into his mouth either. This guy was plain disgusting.

“Okay, I'll tell you. Satan himself, that's who. I mean, wow! That's quite an honor... sort of,”Dahmer told the Don.

“Honor. Finally, I get respect.” “Respect? Hell no! Satan doesn't respect anybody. He doesn't even respect himself. If I was you, I'd dump that respect shit and play it as cool as you can. Don't be throwin' one a them Italian hissy fits. Not with Satan.”

“Still, he is a person of 'influence', as I was ,”the Don said.

“Influence? What the Hell are you talking about, 'influence.' He has power, that's what he has. Raw, overwhelming, damn near unchecked power. Influence, my ass. Man, you must a watched way too many Mafia movies. Satan's going to eat your spaghetti. Sorry, man, I really am. That stuff ain't for shit, know what I mean? Really sorry,man” Dahmer lied.

Satan appeared at the dinning room, an unusual occurrence. Satan was a busy spirit, screaming at his demons to increase their quotas and arguing with that Other One about who was winning. That Satan was going to lose in the end didn’t matter. It was the game that counted. Satan was way ahead on numbers. Of course, the odds were all in his favor, humans being what they were. Satan still thought He should have made them pets and been done with it.

Now he was hearing rumors of some especially bad slop on the menu and decided to check it out personally. His sudden appearance unnerved everyone, including the demons. Demons they were but they were still deathly afraid of the Devil. The Lost Souls were petrified of him. Never knew when he might send them to a 25th ring of Hell, worse part of Hell. Satan wasn’t sitting in the no-smoking section. He was always smoking himself all over. It bothered some of the Lost Souls but that was the point.

He was served a huge plate of spaghetti. It looked wonderful and smelled wonderful. He took a taste and the taste was miraculous. That was a word only he was allowed to say or even think. He took a bite and smiled what passed for a smile with him. Everyone started to relax. They looked at their plates at good spaghetti. They all took a bit and it was wonderful. A sense of joy ran through the place. Satan sat still for a second then let out a scream heard clear to the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter smiled. Always good to hear Satan screaming. Made his day. . He looked at thre Don looked at Satan and Satan and Satan looked at him. “You! You made this spaghetti?”Satan asked.

“Yes-”, the Don began to say.

“I know that, you dummy! I know everything down here! This is the best food I’ve eaten here since I don’t know when.” The Don, despite himself, got all puffed up at this. Finally, some respect and honor. Finally- He sent the Don to a lower level of Hell. He was going to Level 3 as the sausage cleaner. He would be cleaning the intestines by sucking them dry.

. “Don, it’s not business, it’s personal.