encoded notions

Threat

“Lick your lips,” suggested Julie.

“Whmmf?” mumbled Harold, trying his best to say “What?” under a strip of Duct Tape.

“I said, lick your lips.”

With a swift wave of her hand, like magic, the strip covering his mouth was gone—vanished…along with a few very important layers of skin. He yelped.

She smiled. “If you’d have listened, it wouldn’t have hurt as much,” she said, still smiling. “So, where were we? Ah yes, question number two. Are you ready to play along, or should I use something else I picked up from the sale rack at the Evil Overlord Emporium?” She gestured again to the contents of the table, still looming at the periphery of Harold’s vision.

“Why should I listen to you?” he questioned.

“Because I have a certain threat that I can use as leverage if you don’t feel like cooperating with me.”

“I run all of Time, in what way could you possibly threaten me? You can’t kill me, because then who would run everything?”

“I know someone who is very interested in taking over your job.”

“Ok. I’m intrigued. Who do you have in mind?” he was beginning to worry.

“He who would enjoy running his own affairs for a change.”

Harold looked puzzled.

“You are the only person that can stand in the way of his fun and personal enjoyment.”

Harold continued to be puzzled, until she saw the click of recognition in his eyes; the cliché lightbulb turned on over his head, and he understood.

“No. You wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s a far better deal then putting up with your constant intrusions into my life.”

“But then he can do whatever he wants. Don’t you understand? You’ll have to worry about him every second of the day. You can’t make deals with him!” Harold exclaimed.

“Oh, but he’s a very pleasant and agreeable person, once you get over the chill you feel looking into his face.”

“Or lack thereof,” he added.

Bob, who had woken up a few minutes ago from his concussion-induced slumber had been listening to Julie and Mr. Time argue over something. He didn’t feel that he was part of their discussion, but he decided to raise a question anyway. “Excuse me,” he interrupted, “but might I ask who it is that you’re talking about?”

“Death,” explained Julie. “Without this joker here issuing him commands every so often, Death could rule over Time and bring people to the afterlife whenever it tickled his fancy.”

“But why would you want that? It sounds very bad for the living folk,” protested Bob.

“Death has offered to delay his ultimate fun until I personally come to visit him for orientation one day under my own volition. This, of course, hinges heavily on me delivering this clown as a birthday present.”

Bob sat in stunned silence, and Julie turned back to Mr. Time.

“So, are you going to play along like a nice prisoner or should I turn you over to the man downstairs and get it over with?”

“If you’re so set on my dethronement, why should I talk to you anymore?”

“Because I am still accepting offers.”