Job Satisfaction This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   When I joined the forces of evil, after seeing that ad in the "Weekly Pentagram," I thought I'd get a glamorous job, sweeping around the planets in a black spaceship, drawing mystical sigils on my dunce cap, or waltzing through the Paris catacombs with ghosts. But I don't have friends in high (or would it be low?) places. A guy without connections, from some backwater planet like Earth, should be grateful if he gets even a desk job, they tell me. A little sorcerer who signed up with me, all drooping eyebrow and no visible eyes, was put in charge of cleaning the broom closets. And with all those exhaust fumes, let me tell you, it's an awful job.

So I guess I was lucky to get put here, in the Department of Bug-Eyed Monsters. There's not really a lot to my job. I more or less shuffle papers and play Tetris. Sometimes there's a big order for monsters - someone's doing a major show of some sort. Ever since there was a separate department established for psychological terror, we've gone downhill. Nobody wants a scary monster that's actually there nowadays. They're more interested in messing with people's minds so they create their own monsters. I'll admit it's more effective, but I still protest. In the old days ... ah, we would create epic horrors, creatures that oozed or flew through you or slimed on the floor. And colors - oh, there were puce and chartreuse and scarlet. None of these monochromatic schemes in black or beige that're all the fashion nowadays.

But let me tell you about the Bug-Eyed Monsters. They're my absolute favorites, because they're so versatile. The Amoeba department is only good once in a while, for unintelligent masses of slime. But my Monsters can do nearly anything. You can have them inhabiting a new planet or mutating out of a lab or crawling up from the depths of the planet or being loosed on a civilian population to terrorize them. They come in all shapes and sizes - from the cute little ones like a plague of locusts to the enormous dragon ones. Whatever type you get, I have to guarantee that they'll cause a satisfactory amount of chaos and replace them if they don't. Usually we don't get many complaints, because they err on the side of caution and destroy whoever commissioned them when they run amuck.

And I don't need to worry about what I'll be doing for eternity - I've got enough time worked up for a comfy job administrating demons. That's one of the biggest benefits of working for Evil, that they have this nice setup with underneath. 1


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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