Satan's Rummage Sale

What Satan might like you to buy.

Satan's Rummage Sale

Once upon a time, in the nearby land of temptation, Satan was having a rummage sale. I wondered what was there? Even before leaving home, mom warned me by saying, “Don't be mess in' with the Devil. The Devil's ways lead to no good.”
Well, you know me, I just had to go looking anyway.
At the yard sale, crowds of youngsters, teenagers, adults and senior citizens were pushing, shoving, and elbowing each other while searching to find truly red-hot bargains before anyone else snatched them up. Scattered carelessly about Satan's folding tables and displays were all sorts of shiny-bright, sparkling-glistening offerings which appeared to be exactly what you might like or, at least, must have to be completely satisfied.
The city librarian was seen switching price tags to quietly give herself her own dishonest discounts. Two baubles and a cigarette lighter were shoplifted by a teen in full view of the Devil. The teenager just shrugged thinking out loud, “Who cares, they were just small little things? It's no problem at all.”A silver-haired Granny poked a man with her cane as she elbowed him aside. She claimed that was just an accident but she never said she was sorry either. Two giggling, destructive toddlers were tugging on an antique doll until its arms broke off. A man's wife was quarreling with him as he picked over a box of lewd magazines. While she, herself, had already selected a nude, anatomically correct, porcelain figurine of her idol Adonis. “This is art,” she exclaimed, “your magazines are just trashy.” Quarrels and short tempers abounded. Bad arguments flared up and torched off an array of hostilities. It wasn't a pretty site.
For sale, at deep markdowns, were the fraudulent tools of lies and deceitfulness which came in all shapes and sizes to be spread all over. Since you could find lies and deceit almost everywhere, today they were dirt cheap. The other offerings were a strangely hideous assortment of wretched double-jointed thingamabobs and atrocious doohickeys plus a wide assortment of prickly little doodads.
Most folks reasoned, if you just had one of these things, or even better if you had most of them, your life could certainly be fulfilled and downright satisfying. I wondered why the mob was in such a frenzy? What the Tempter offered appealed very little to me. But still I had to mosey over and see for myself.
Satan, trying to guess who was easy prey and who was not, eyed me like a foul-smelling vulture. Testing to see if I could be lured within his reach, he beckoned me as he picked up a nasty looking claw hammer and offered it towards me. “This hateful hammer,” he said, calculating his words of deceit, “is purported to smash all hopes and deeds to smithereens. Unless, of course, your hopes were false or your deeds dishonest. In that case, the claw hammer could help you build wrong doings bigger and better.”
My mind was becoming muddled by his fast talking, smooth-sounding words. In my confusion, I recalled 'bigger and better' was usually good. It all was beginning to sound pretty good. But the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Hesitantly, and maybe too slowly, I started to back away but the dark angel's gaze held me firmly. He pointed a gnarly, broken fingernail to my left. Leaning on one of Lucifer's warped walls was an assortment of gardening implements. A well-used, push-behind, lawn spreader came complete with the seeds of destruction and promised to grow false pride quick with strong, deep roots. There was also a hand-held pump sprayer with a nozzle that could spread conceit and distrust. A long handled, many-pronged, rake of scorn was hung contemptuously and carelessly near a well-honed, sharp-edged shovel of jealousy.
There was even a smattering of antiques. An old pickax of anxiety could be easily swung but was hard to control, unlike the spiked mace of malice which could bash friendships in any direction you decided. Tucked under a shelf, partially hidden from view were some smaller, needle-like implements just bully to the pulpit for gossiping, backbiting, and selfishness.
There was even a very unappealing, disgusting box of slothful odds and ends containing pieces of doll parts and bits of green, plastic soldiers offering haughty eyes, bloodied hands, wicked hearts, and feet that would run to evil. The Devil reached in and tugged a long pull-string on the back of an aged, plastic talking doll. When he let the pull-string go, a nervous, squeaky voice poured out lies and gave false witness until the twine fully returned. Hearing the noise and flipping on its own on-off switch, a tiny manikin jerked around coarsely stirring up conflict and ill-feelings that spilled out of the box.
Satan said, “That little mannequin's a blast, loads and loads of amusement for me. But take your pick of any piece in the box. Chose what you like, they are awfully fun to play with. Even more amusing if you use lies and mayhem on your spouse, friends or neighbors. The more the merrier!”
Hung on a line that stretched between two poles was wearing apparel, some new and some old standbys marked one size fits all. The tags and labels gave names to the garments and credit to the designers. Greed and Gluttony were fashioned from the house of indulgence, Fury Fashions were from the house of Wrath. The sinfully compelling fabrics of Desire and Lust carried more secluded private labels. Each of these articles of clothing came with hard to read, little-bitty-tiny-swatches sewed upside down and backwards that warned they were not flame retardant, caveated by; “Buyer Beware! Wear At Your Own Risk!”
Stacked off to the side were several gallons of paint, most were an off the wall color called envy-green. It was said to spread quite readily when applied with the bitter brush of revenge or a spatula of covetousness. A tool closer to Satan was a weird type of magnifying glass that somehow worked to unbalance your thoughts. If you looked through it one way, it magnified your prestige and self-importance. If you twisted it around and looked through the opposite lens, other people were reduced, belittled, and besmirched.
A steel kaleidoscope laying close by looked positively ancient with a grayish, pebbled, texture almost reptilian in its nature. Pushing for a sale, Satan lifted up scaly cylinder and said seriously, “This is brand new government surplus. The kaleidoscope was made to look old so true beliefs might wane to befuddlement. When you look through the tube's lens, it makes some boys think they are girls and vice a versa. That's a wonderfully fiendish idea, don't you think! You better get yours now cause my dear Uncle Sam, I'm proud to say, is a newly contributing partner but looks like he won't get re-elected. He's pushing them on every school and university. Locker rooms and bathrooms will never be the same if we can force it on everyone. Later, it'll be pushed on businesses as well. That's our long-range plan, anyway. Snatch'em up while they're hot, is my most confiding recommendation.”
Feeling sick to my stomach, over the ripple of results that could come from the demented kaleidoscope, I moved over a bit and saw a sickly-looking yellow food processor. It came with a recipe that offered to turn strong, sinewy faith into mush just by adding the spice of disbelief and a dab of saucy skepticism. Next to that, a stack of used of dishes were discolored and fly spotted with unfounded fears and false emotions.
With just a cursory glance, most of Satan's sale items seemed disarming to the undiscerning eye. Some tools touted a lifetime guarantee and promise of good fortune. Lucifer, whom we have to admit is a persistent devil, can often be hard to beat back. He doubled down on his smooth sounding sales pitch by bleating out, “I don't want to nag you or trouble your soul over any insignificant cost. Just hear me out. Everything I offer is free. Free initially, that is, excluding the low, really low down payment that you surrender later. After all, who knows when that day might come? I don't! Do You?”
Try as I might, I searched in vain for things I could use, like a large ladle for dispensing love, a cup to measure joy and happiness or even a paring knife that would cut to the truth. None of these could be found in the Devils domain.
With a wry, sly, grin he tried the third time to entice me by saying, “Take anything you want. I created them all for your enjoyment. Surely, I can't force them on you but just give into your desires a little and play with them now. Remember, you can worry about paying later! I'm easy. Trust me?”
Right there, I knew he was full of falsehoods and deceptions. God created the universe and Satan never created anything good. He just twists and distorts desires by using half-truths or downright lies. Trying to ignore Beelzebub's banter, I noticed some nondescript implements almost hidden away in one of the demon's grayest corners. The displaced implements did not look nearly as tempting as the other glittering offerings.
Noticing my disapproving scowl, Satan, extending a gnarled, filthy-finger pointing to two of the tools that looked like rusty scythes with jagged well-honed edges. He bragged, “People seldom see my tools for what they really are. The two long-handled ones are Doubt and Discouragement. Both are very easy to grip but very hard to shake loose. They increase my harvesting efforts when almost nothing else works. Even though they're very plain looking, I use them frequently, night and day. Day in and day out.”
“Then tell me, what's the last one over there?” I asked. Satan laughed as no one else could and replied, “That one is genuinely wicked. Maybe my best invention! I call it my automatic dark-power tool. I just push a few of the right buttons and abracadabra, presto-change-oh, total anger takes over impairing relationships faster than my old aerosol standby. You know, that rusty old spray can of rage. Together, they kill more than just bugs. Check yourself out? Rage and anger are standard features in most humans. You might have older versions churning within yourself to trade in?”
Thank the good Lord this time, I was able to walk away from all the distractions offered by the Devil. Not that we don't already have some of these sins to get rid of ourselves. Unfortunately, some other people were not as well prepared by the Bible and bought into his line of malarkey. Many cleverly disguised items and implements were readily grabbed up, put on, or stuffed away to be used later. In fact, some folks carted away whole arm loads of the trashy things. It was like they couldn't get enough of this rubbish. Every time a tool of the Devil was freely accepted, two more temptations seemed to materialize. Apparently, the Devil has a never-ending supply of misfortune and mayhem.
Running away, halfway down the block I stopped and turned around. I risked looking back. Not in any desire to see what I might have missed, but to reinforce my resolve to never deal on Lucifer's terms or give into his false promises. To my dismay I saw, like looking through a wavy desert mirage, all his evil tools and items changing back and forth into the demons they always were. The demons clinging to confused customers were ecstatic in their satanic witherings. The ones not chosen, begged and pleaded to be taken away from the Devil. One and all were requesting mercies that would never free them from their own chosen Hell.
The message of this fable is: Don't stop, shop or buy anything Satan is selling, even if he is wide-open 24 hours a day. Beware, while your initial cost may seem to be a cut-rate discount . . . the final payback is always longer, steeper, and costs more than we think.
The End is near! Where are you going?
Know of any other items Satan might sell? Drop a line and I'll likely include them in a future version. If you want to do illustrations, with corresponding artistic credit, for this or my other stories, please contact me.