Fiddlestyx

NEW PROMPT: What with all of the organizations calling, writing, and
knocking on doors to ask our opinions, write a short story or poem
about being bothered by the survey taker from Hades. It doesn't
actually have to be someone from Hades, unless you want them to be.

(Done to the tune of CDB's "Devil Went Down to Georgia")

The Devil mighta seen a peach,
when he was tryin' to steal soul;
But 'twas on my step his ol' wretched rep
dropped by and conducted a poll.
He clutched a fiery clipboard --
smokin' up a little and sprayin' its ash,
and the demon leaned against my frontporch screen
and said: "I've a question to ask:
"I bet you didn't know it, but Beelzebub's all a stew . . .
"And if you'd care to set things square, I'd like to talk to you."
"Ol' Scratch plays a pretty good fiddle, Ma'am, and he'd like to get his due --
I don't wanna debate, so give it straight. Do ya think Ol' Nicky got screwed?"

"Tell me who deserves your vote, whose music you would pick
"'Cause hevs broke loose in Hades, and Nick thinks the bet was fixed!
"And if you vote you get this shiny sticker . . . looks like gold,
"Only if you choose to take Ol Scratch's poll."

The demon readied his clipboard, and I said, "I jes' don't know."
And fire flew from his hoof-steps as he turned 'round to go,
And I pulled the door across its hinge and it made a high-pitch whine;
But I never even noticed -- I've been deaf since nineteen forty-nine.

The devil wasn't finished, he came back.
"Do you wanna hear, my dear?
"Jus' sign this here contract with Scratch
"And let me give you hellacious ears."

Higher than a cat's back, boy oh boy!
With a brimstone pen I signed my name with joy.
Didn't read the fine print scribbled in red.
Now I got the same song in my head.

The devil cocked his head,
Waiting for me to make my pick,
and I mulled it just a little
'fore I nominated Nick.

"Now, Deary," he laughed, "Scratch sends his Thanks"
"And I'm sure that we'lll meet again
"'Cause you sealed the deal, you done sold your soul,
"to hear him play again and 'gain!"

I cried:
Higher than a cat's back, boy oh boy!
With a brimstone pen I signed my name with joy.
Didn't read the fine print scribbled in red.
Now I got the same song in my head.