By Timothy Lantz

Barry slugged down his beer and slammed the glass on the bar, signaling for another round.

"Jesus. What’s with you?"

"It’s these voices. I can’t take it anymore."

Concerned for his friend, Mike gives him a moment before pressing. He pulls the peanuts over, scoops out a handful. "Voices?"

"Yeah, little irritating voices. In my head. Telling me to do stuff." He watches as the bartender fills his glass. "I got, whataya call ‘em, outer Demons."

Mike starts laughing.

"What? It's not funny."

"Outer Demons." Mike laughs again. "You mean inner demons."

"No. That's not what I mean. I mean outer fucking Demons."

Perplexed, Mike stops laughing. He chomps down a few peanuts. "Alright, I'll buy. What's an outer Demon."

Barry takes a long slow sip of his beer. "Forget about it."

Hurt, Mike pleads. "Aw come on, don't be like this. I just want to help."

"Fuck off."

"No. Seriously... what's an outer Demon?"

Barry reaches for a pretzel. "You see that table in the corner?"

"With the hot blonde?"

"No. The other corner."

Mike glances across the room. Huddled around a small table in the corner sit two men. They're wearing long dark coats and fedora hats pulled low shielding their faces. Curiously, they each seem to be wearing dark sunglasses as well.

"The two old freaks?"

"Yeah. That's them."

Mike looks over at the table again. One of the men seems to notice the attention and raises his glass in salute. Mike quickly turns his head.

"That's who?"

"The outer Demons."

Mike takes a big drink from his glass. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, you asked."

Mike steals another glance across the room. Both men turn and look in his direction. He hides his face in his beer again.

"Quit it."

"What?"

"Staring at them. You're gonna piss 'em off."

"I don't believe any of this."

"Suit yourself. I told you so."

Mike downs some more peanuts as Barry sits watching the football game on the big screen behind the bar. Finally his curiosity gets the better of him. "So what do these voices tell you?"

"Forget it I said."

"You can't just tell me there's Demons whispering in your ear and then not tell me what they're saying."

"They don't whisper in my ear, and look, would you just drop it all ready?"

Mike fights the urge to look back at the table. "I only want to help."

"You can't."

"How do you know?"

"I just know, now shut up. I'm trying to watch the game."

Mike finishes off his beer and orders another one. Barry has a few more pretzels.

"Does Charlotte know?"

Barry frowns. "Christ, you just don't give up do you? Of course Charlotte doesn't know. What? You think I go home tellin' the wife a couple of Demons followed me home? She's gonna want to know where I've been, what I've been up to. That's just askin' fer trouble."

"Where have you been?"

"Huh?"

"What the hell have you been doing? Demons just don't follow you home for no reason. You musta provoked them or something."

"Suddenly you're an expert on Demons?"

Mike looked sheepish. "No. I'm just sayin'."

"Look, I don't know alright. I was just on my way home from work the other night and suddenly, I start hearing these voices in my head see? When I looked around, there they were. They've been following me ever since."

"What do they want?"

"I have no idea."

"Well what are they saying?"

"Stupid shit. Doesn't make any sense."

"Like, 'kill babies' or 'murder hookers'?"

Barry looks at Mike disapprovingly. "No. Nothing like that."

"Then what?"

"Mostly it's just annoying little suggestions."

"Like?"

"Like... 'don't wash your hands when you leave the restroom' or 'park in the handicapped spot'."

"No."

"Hey, I swear."

Mike started to laugh. "You mean that's it?"

"Yeah, it's fucking annoying."

Mike starts laughing so hard his eyes water.

"Yeah, real fuckin' funny."

Crying, "sorry. I'm sorry, it's just..." Mike starts convulsing now, he can't stop laughing.

"Fucker." Barry chugs his beer, demands another.

After a few minutes, Mike composes himself. He's still got that gleam in his eye though. "Well, what do they want?"

"Dunno."

"You mean they just keep following you around making lame-ass suggestions?"

"Pretty much."

"Maybe you should confront them."

"I don't know. They're still fucking Demons for Christ’s sake."

"True. But sooner or later you're gonna have to do something."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well here's your chance."

"What? Now?"

"Hell yes. I mean, they're just sitting over there. Why not go over? See what they want."

Barry turns and looks at the table. A pissed off look fixes itself on his face. "Yeah. maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Go. I'll be here to back you up if you need me."

Barry thinks for a minute then takes another swallow. "Alright." He puts his glass down and slides off the barstool. "Be right back."

Mike watches as Barry makes his way over to the table. The two Demons seem confused, nervous maybe, as Barry pulls up a chair and sits down. Mike can't hear the conversation over the casual din of the bar. Nonetheless, he watches with interest.

Minutes go by, they seem to be having a polite discussion. Suddenly, the three turn and look at Mike. He feels a certain uneasiness. A lump appears in his throat. He takes a sip of beer as Barry and the Demons go back to their conversation.

A few more minutes go by and Barry stands up. He shakes hands with each of the Demons, a smile on his face. He walks back over to the bar.

"Well?" Stammered Mike.

"You were right. Everything's been settled."

"That's it?"

"Almost. Look, I gotta get home. Charlotte's probably waiting." Barry sifts through his wallet and lays a couple of bills on the bar. "I'll catch you tomorrow."

Stunned, Mike looks over at the table. The two Demons have gone.

"Wait. I'll walk out with you."

Barry waits as Mike gets up off his stool and pulls his coat on. "Alright let's go."

Barry looks at him quizzically, "You forgetting something?"

Mike looks at the money on the bar. "Oh yeah." He pulls his wallet from his pocket.

"Don't pay... skip out on the check... they'll never catch you..."

Mike looks at Barry, a scowl on his face. He lays some money on the counter.

"Tip the waitress a penny..."

Mike punches Barry in the arm. "Fucker."

Barry starts to laugh.

"Just so you know, I am telling Charlotte you were followed home by Demons."

Barry keeps laughing as they leave the bar.