āIf you say yes,ā said the Devil, āa single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.ā
āWhatās the catch?ā You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. Youāre smarter than he thinks you areā a devil deal always has a catch, and youāre determined to catch him before he catches you.Ā
āWell, the catch is that youāll know you did it. And Iāll know, too. And the big man upstairsāll know, I āspose. But whatās the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, itās up to youā take my deal or leave it.ā
The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, theyāre hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know heās the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.
Heās been perfectly polite.Ā
You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldnāt have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now youāre in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked outā or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you.Ā
āWait a minute, wait a minute,ā you say. āI bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?ā
āCould be,ā the Devil says with a pointed grin. āThatās for the wheel to decide.ā
He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you canāt see. The flickering sign above it reads:
āStep right up and claim your fortune,ā the Devil barks. āSpin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.ā
āThese are all the possible men I can kill?ā You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devilās rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion.Ā
āAddicts, convicts, murderersā plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!ā
āSerial wife murderer?ā
āNow who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and thatās a fact.ā
The desperate businessman
āMy husband is on here too,ā you say.Ā
āYour husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise thereās simply no stakes.ā
āI know whatās gonna happen,ā you say, crossing your arms. āThis wheel is rigged. Iām gonna spin it around, and itāll go through all the killers and stuff, and then itās gonna land on my husband no matter what.ā
āWhy, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,ā the Devil says, wounded. āI swear on my own motherās graveā may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This oneās on me, no death, no dollars.ā
You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.
Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity
Round and round it goes.Ā
The charming younger brother
The two-faced middle child
Clackity-clackity-clackity.
Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.
āHmm, tough, missus, but thatās the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,ā he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. āAs you can see, itās not rigged. The wheel truly is random.ā
āSoā¦ there really isnāt another catch?ā You ask.Ā
āIsnāt it enough for you to end a manās life? You need a steeper price? If youāre really such a glutton for punishment, Iāll gladly re-negotiate the terms.ā
āNo, noā¦ wait.ā You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.
You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husbandās combined debtā those student loans really follow you around. Heās quite a bit older than you, and even he hasnāt paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it.Ā
Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you donāt know or love these people doesnāt mean that someone doesnāt.Ā
Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friendsā¦
āMy husband is a Badgers fan,ā you say.
āHow lovely,ā the Devil says.Ā
Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldnāt call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like heās got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because heās afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.
āI get your game,ā you announce. āYou thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!ā
āOh really? What is my game, pray tell?ā The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.
āAll these different titlesā theyāre all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isnāt one notch on the wheel, heās every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. Iām wise to your tricks!āĀ
āYouāre a clever one, thatās for sure. I thought youād never figure it out.ā
āThanks but no thanks, man,ā you say with a triumphant smirk. āIām no rube. No deal. Take me back home.ā
āAs you wish, missus,ā the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and youāre gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. āDonāt say I never tried to help anyone.ā
