competent at work
Callie Maggotbone boobs_and_evil
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Maggotbone Enterprises, The Lake of Fire, Hell (NFB)
Deep below New York City, far beneath the surface of the earth, past the parts of Hell that were tourist-friendly, lay Maggotbone Enterprises. The conference room had bright purple walls, and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that opened onto the Lake of Fire. One wall was decorated with ceremonial weapons, and the conference table was a deep oxblood red.

At one end sat Aldermach Maggotbone, CEO of Maggotbone Enterprises, Ruler of Hell, more colloquially known as the devil. At the other, his daughter. ... Oh, and some shlubby lawyer she’d brought along for the ride.

Aldermach drummed his fingers on the table while Callie and her lawyer got situated. When the time felt right, he steepled his fingers and looked his baby in the eyes.

“Hey there, kitten. Did you see the horrific visions I sent you? A little wedding gift for my only daughter.”

Casual. Soft. Maybe she hadn’t seen the omens. Maybe she’d forgotten the prophecy and the blood pact. Give her enough rope to hang herself before the steel came out.

“Very sweet, Daddy,” Callie said, inspecting her nails. Faking her very best casual. Maybe they could keep this meeting light. Right. “But you know how I feel about arranged marriages.”

Yes, she’d brought a lawyer. In some families, that would be paranoid. If your father ruled Hell, it was common sense. So was the briefcase sitting in front of her, and what was in it.

Aldermach sighed. Well, she wasn’t going to play dumb, and that was good, but she was still being difficult about the whole thing.

“You know I have a magical blood pact with the Bonerapers,” he pointed out. “You have to go through with this or I'll be brutally murdered.”

Left unsaid, but just as potent, was the fact that if Twayne’s family came for him, he was taking Callie out with him.

Callie tsked. “You only made this arrangement because you still feel guilty about ditching Twayne's mom at the altar,” she pointed out.

And who exactly could blame him? No one who had seen Violet Boneraper. That woman was an abomination. One who couldn’t dress herself, either.

Well, to be fair, this was Hell -- they were all abominations, down here. Violet was just harder to get along with than most. If Aldermach could feel something like guilt, it wouldn’t be over her.

He chuckled a little and shrugged. “Darling, you know I'm not capable of guilt! I promised you to Twayne because his family is paying me a buttload of money to deliver a bride for that unfuckable oaf.”

From behind Aldermach, the fourth person in the room piped up.

“I hate to interrupt, but does anybody have some toilet paper?” Twayne asked. “I got a nosebleed on the way down here. It's the change in altitude.”

Oh, Twayne knew they were talking about him. He just expected it by now. Besides, he was going to get married soon! Maybe they could go pick out centerpieces. And then: he got to have intercourse.

Did Callie really need to say any more than that?! She was a successful demon, a highly intelligent succubus, and this waste of flesh could barely manage to tie his own shoelaces. She’d been his assistant for five years, and yet she was still amazed by the depths of his idiocy. And the fact that he hadn’t accidentally killed himself getting out of bed.

Sure, the Prophecy said them mating would bring about the End of Days, but her cooch was not open for business to the likes of him. She had standards.

She scowled and whispered something to her lawyer.

The Lawyer
The lawyer cleared his throat, then turned to Aldermach. “I'm not marrying this loser!” he announced. “And by ‘I,’ I mean her.”

Well, now the lawyer wasn’t just advising her, he was getting in the way. Aldermach was going to have to get rid of him, which was really a shame. Skill like that didn’t come cheap. And while he was at it, her dumb boyfriend needed to go.

“Maybe we should eliminate the real problem. Your milquetoast boytoy. What's-his-face.”

“His name's Mark Lily,” Twayne said proudly. “He works at the DOI with us.”

Oh, Hell. Technically, she and Mark were on the off-again side of their constant on-again-off-again tango. She had no idea if that would make her dad back off or press her advantage, and she couldn't chance it.

“You leave my boyfriend out of this,” Callie snarled protectively. She nodded to the lawyer as she popped open her briefcase, relieved to see that he was reaching into his pocket at the same time. Good lawyers were really hard to find. She was bumping up his retainer. “He has no idea about me marrying Twayne, and it's going to stay that way.”

The briefcase didn’t have any papers in it. Just a pistol that she whipped out, side grip, as her lawyer brandished his own matching handgun.

Well. Even if they died here, they were going to go out looking badass.

Oh, wasn’t that cute. She and her lawyer were being twinsies! It was a prime negotiating tactic, though, and Aldermach was proud of her for thinking of it.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, dear,” he told her, as he pulled out his own weapon. It was a ceremonial dagger, the kind you used for sacrificing babies on the blood altar, and he never left home without it. He wasn’t actually going to kill Callie with it -- not unless she made him -- but it would be fun to carve some pounds of flesh from her lawyer.

Besides, it made him look threatening, and really, that was the point. She was going to do his bidding, or else.

”Oh!” Twayne had only been half-listening, but this was probably something he should be in on. In the meantime, he’d found toilet paper, but not before getting a few splotches of blood onto his suit. He now had the loose ends of the tissue sticking out of his nose, since he hadn’t thought to corkscrew it in like every kid over the age of five. The end result was a white papery mustache with dabbles of blood. “I didn’t bring a weapon, hang on.”

Twayne was good at killing. Just give him a second to search the decorative wall over here --

Several of the ceremonial weapons fell to the ground with a decided clatter.


Aldermach sighed and facepalmed. “Twayne-o,” he chided, “we had some dramatic tension going here -- a real Mexican standoff -- and you just ruined it. Be a dear and report downstairs to the employee torture chamber, will you? You’re not helping your cause, here.”

He turned back to Callie and her lawyer and set his dagger on the table. “Okay, look, pumpkin,” he told her with a shrug. “I was building up to this anyway, until your fiancee ruined our little ‘moment’. The thing is, the more you’re around Twayne, and the more you’re around this human pet of yours, the less you want to marry him. So, I’ve arranged for a transfer for you. You’ll be the head of a whole new office -- how about that?”

Callie chewed her lower lip, then nodded for her lawyer to lower his gun. Hers was also going on the table -- but she was keeping her hand on it.

Daddy didn't raise no fools. And the odds of her father feeling generous right now ...

"What's the catch?"

”No catch, sweetheart. You go spend some time away from Twayne for a bit, and promise to never speak to Mark again, and just let this whole thing blow over.” Aldermach gave her a deceptively weak smile. “There’s this dimensional nexus thingy down in Maryland -- a portal to other universes -- and I need my best man -- or woman, as the case may be -- to examine it.”

He wasn’t going to mention the part where he killed Mark the moment she left town. That was a given, right?

“I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did,” he added paternally. “Divorces don’t come cheap, and you can’t just kill humans when you’re done with them without violating the Treaty.”

Callie bristled at the thought of her conception being a mistake, but her parents' marriage certainly had been. No matter. A change in scenery could be interesting, even if Maryland would be dull after New York. But her own office to run, not being Twayne's sidekick? That had its appeal. The idea just needed a few tweaks.

"I'm not agreeing to never see Mark again," she said. "I'm not letting you run my life any more. However, I'm willing to go to this nexus and see what's going on there. But I'm not going anywhere without a contract, signed in blood, that says you're not going to kill Mark while I'm gone."

It was totally a given.

"Or maim, or torture, or --" She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to think of all the loopholes.

The Lawyer
"Psychologically scar," her lawyer offered smoothly. He specialized in demonic law. He knew the loopholes. That was why she was paying him so damn much. "I'd be more than happy to draw that up for you."

”Kitten, are you saying you don’t trust me?” her father asked, in a very hurt tone of voice.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," Callie replied.

”Oh, I’m so proud of you!” Aldermach told her with a big grin. “My little girl’s all grown up!”

(Played with the incomparable whateverknight as my Aldermach. The beginning is ripped from two different scenes of episode 2x02, Callie and Her Sister, but with a sharp left turn in the middle. Establishy hoooo! NFB, NFI, but OOC is love.)