The D of S, Vol. II: Terrazzo IV

It’s the next morning on Purgatory.

tWBS: Hey, wake up.

Senor: Ugh, I slept like I was on a rock. (He checks his “pillow.”) Oh, that explains it.

tWBS: I hear footsteps.

Senor: It sounds like running. Towards here.

tWBS: Welcoming party?

Senor: No! This is the terrace of sloth, so… penance, actually.

Slothful Soul: (running by them) Come on, brothers and sisters, quick quick!

tWBS: They don’t look so slothful to me.

Senor: Well, the opposing virtue to sloth is zeal, so I guess they have to be zealful in all their endeavors.

Slothful Soul #2: Come, join us as we do our penance on the mountain.

tWBS: That’s great buddy, but we’re trying to get through you guys, and—

Slothful Soul #2: —Need to get to the exit to approach the next terrace? Follow me!

tWBS: Hey, I’ll take the zeal if it gets me yelling at St. Peter some more!

Senor: That’s all you’ve gotten from this escapade?

tWBS: Noooooo…

Senor: I would make an Angry Dome joke, but we just came from there and I don’t wanna go the long way around. Have you paid attention here?

tWBS: Yeah, yeah, just… hold that thought… do you hear that music?

Senor: Let’s keep walking… aw great, where did he go now? And, hey, I do hear something now.

But where’s it coming from? And, why is it No Doubt? Wouldn’t expect that in Purgatory. Lemme check my guide to Purgatory…

(He takes out his phone, and it’s a link to the Divine Comedy CliffNotes or something.)

Senor: Thank goodness, new phone with more than ten minute battery life. Let’s see, Terrace I, II, III, ah! IV. Sloth, people running around because zeal is its opposing virtue, song, song… ah, here we are, siren. Oh, shit. Seamus!

tWBS is busy being entranced.

Siren: Don’t speak! My darling, never speak. We’ll be perfectly happy, as all men who hear my song are. You can stay here forever if you so wish.

tWBS: Ahh yes, I—

Slothful Woman: Hey you, get away from him! Guide, he’s here!

Senor finds the siren, and tWBS.

Senor: What do I do what do I do?

Slothful Woman: Go for the guts!

Senor: Agh agh eww, I get squeamish, sorry.

Slothful Woman: Oh fine.

With a swipe at the siren, she rips its… blouse?—open and the siren’s guts spill out.

Senor: Aww, gah, that smell! I’m gonna go over there before I—hrk—hurl.

tWBS: Ugh! (to the siren) Lady, you sing better than you look. Hey, where’s Senor?

Senor is busy trying not to throw up. And barely succeeding.

tWBS: Dude, you okay? It’s just siren guts.

Senor: This… this is why I didn’t take AP Bio. The frog was bad enough. I need air. Errh. Sorry, we can’t all be comfortable with blood and gore. As for you, way to get suckered into the siren’s song, buddy. I already had to deal with your visions, what do I tell Balls, “Hey, I lost him on Purgatory?” What would I tell St. Peter?

tWBS: Hey, I lost that guy you were arguing with a few days ago, and he was right, by the way?

Senor: You got a point, he’d be prolly okay with it. Just meant you’d have to stay here longer, in his eyes maybe knock some sense into you.

tWBS: Hey!

Senor: Siren’s song.

tWBS: How long are you going to bring that up?

Senor: At least this terrace.

tWBS: Fine… jerk.

Senor: Suck it up and say high to the angel.

Angel of Zeal: I hope the siren taught you something.

Senor: Don’tsayNoDoubtsucksdon’tsayNoDoubtsucks…

tWBS: That I shouldn’t have been so enamored with beauty to have stopped pursuing my own things?

Senor: Actually, all things considered, that’s not bad.

Angel: Well, it is something. Continue onward, through the passage.

Senor: And think about it, now you’re past the siren so you won’t have to deal with her again!

tWBS: Does that mean you’ll drop it?

Senor: Eh, we’ll see.