Ozymandias

I am a master- there is no one who is better at playing the game than me my friends.

Selling London Bridge to the tourists is candy from a baby.

I could sell you the bridge as a deal with the Eiffel Tower and the Taj Mahal thrown in as an added extra if I wanted to.

It’s all about finding the right punter and putting on the old charm.

You have to make them think that they are doing you out of something.

Greed is universal, everyone, and I mean everyone likes to think that they can cut a deal.

We all like to think we got away with a bargain.

Even if it’s just that they gave you too much change in the supermarket or forgot to put your sweet or that extra coffee you had on the bill.

It feels kind of good.

Well, that’s the way I roll, I let them think that they got away with murder when all the time it’s me killing them.

By the time they work it out I’m long gone and tough on them for being greedy.

There is only room for one Alligator in a deal or everyone gets bit, and I’m the daddy of them all so we play it my way.

Of course, every empire falls in the end.

Read your Ozymandias, that poet guy Shelley, he knew a thing or two!

My Name Is Ozymandias King Of Kings Look On My Works Ye Mighty And Despair!’

See this Ozzy guy he used to be a big cheese, but in the end he was just a pair of giant feet in the sand-loser!

Now I’m a whole lot smarter than that. I’m a player and I didnt see why I should stop cutting deals just because I’m dead!

I was pretty surprised to be going upstairs, there must have been a mistake but who was I to complain.

I reckoned there must be plenty of patsy’s in heaven, all nice innocent people just waiting to be taken for a ride.

There was this angel see, turns out his name is Rudy.

It was the real deal, not a fake. Beautiful white wings: halo, very classy.

He came to see me in my hotel room just after Murray Weintraub who is a very sore loser, shot me after a deal.

Rudy told me we were off to heaven that all my sins would be forgiven.

Those pearly gates would be flung open wide waiting for me to step through and tip my hat to St Peter.

I didn’t want forgiving, I just wanted to carry on playing the game!

It sounded ok, he was an angel after all. So after some due consideration off we went.

I couldn’t wait to get at those suckers! It’s a con man’s dream!

It’s just like they say, fluffy clouds and harps and stuff.

Very pretty but not much action going on if you get my drift.

I got to thinking, if I could really cut myself in on a deal it would make my life a little more interesting.

I tried I really did, I couldn’t even get hold of a pack of cards to play find the lady.

Everyone smiled and said never mind, but that didn’t help.

There’s no need and no greed, so where’s the fun in that!

You can’t pull a deal here because there is nothing to pull it with.

Just perfection every day after feckin day after day….

I am going insane!

The sheer sugary niceness of it all makes you want to scream and climb the walls and it’s getting worse.

The thought of eternity surrounded by angels and harps every day. A nightmare that never ends.

It’s way worse than hell, give me pitchforks and a lake of fire anytime but unrelenting boredom and goodness is just torture !

Now excuse me while I smack my head against the wall! If I can’t find one that isn’t soft.

Rudy smiled to himself, they never learnt. Give them a pair of snowy wings and a halo and they fell for it every time. Hook line and sinker!

Getting them to torture themselves was cost efficient! It saved loads on Demonic overtime.

He liked the sneaky ferrity humans the best and this one was a peach.

Every single one of them thought that they had got into heaven by mistake. They seized on the golden opportunity to fleece the blessed.

It came with the package.

You can’t be a con-artist without a shed load of arrogance and complete faith in your ability to screw the world!

He took off the wings and halo, flung them on to a chair and resumed his normal Satanic form, swishing his pointy tail to get the creases out.

Then he lit a cigar and called a meeting of his most senior demons, while he sat and polished his hooves in the mirror.

The scammers were always convinced that that they were King of the Con-Men.

But they all failed to realise that the poet was right, there was always a much bigger daddy waiting in the wings.

He should know, after all he was looking at him!

Categories Fiction, Short story, UncategorizedTags ,

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