Whiskey Says: Everybody and their drunken uncle has a podcast these days. Here at The Devil’s Own Piss, we decided that to remain competitive in the world of interwebs-based entertainment, we needed to start a TDOP-branded podcast of our own. The idea would be that I, Whiskey Leavins, could interview characters who have appeared in our stories. We’ll post transcripts of the highlights here on the TDOP blog.

 
Whiskey Leavins: We thought for our very first podcast that there was no choice to be made. Obviously, the first guest would have to be Lucifestus – protagonist of the eponymous first story, “The Devil’s Own Piss.” Welcome, Lucifestus.

 
Lucifestus: Thanks, Whiskey. It’s nice to be here.

 
WL: So, the folks listening can’t see this, but you’re in full Devil mode. The horns and everything. Pretty formidable looking. How do you decide when to appear as yourself and when to look like a regular person?

 
L: For starters, I never look like a regular person. I’m always memorable. But to answer your question, it depends on what I’m after. If I’m just kickin’ it, say, hanging out at Santa Anita or something, of course I go human. Usually Soul-Patch Guy from the story.

 
WL: “The Devil’s Own Piss.”

 
L: Yes. Most of the places where I hang out, the track, an OTB, card room, a dive bar, whatever, he fits right in. But I’ve worked up six or seven different appearances that I can go to depending on the situation. I’ve got a killer Russian babushka.

 
WL: Ah, so you’re okay with appearing as a female then?

 
L: What are you man, like Seventy? Haven’t you heard? Gender paradigms are dead. Gender’s not a binary my man, it’s a continuum. A continuum I slide up and down with the greatest of ease. And confidence. Besides, you should see my go-go girl. She’ll make you squirt in your pants just looking at her.

 
WL: I apologize, clearly you are the spokesman, excuse me, spokesperson, for an enlightened understanding of gender. But let’s continue. When are people most likely to see the real you?

 
L: Real humans in the real world usually only see the real me when I’m trying to make a deal. See, to convince people that you really can do the things your offering, it helps if they see you’re not just a regular guy. Or gal. Whatever. Point is, when they can see the red skin and the horns, well . . . they know. Today? Here with you? Well, I figured you wanted the full Lucifestus experience.

 
WL: Indeed. Thanks. Speaking as a human in the real world, I can say you do look impressive. I mean, the size of the horns is just . . . wow. Incredible. Do you mind if we take a picture and put it on the website?

 
L: Yes. Yes, I do mind. I think that would seriously compromise my shock-and-awe value out among the peasantry.

 
WL: Fair enough. Tell you what, speaking of you making deals, I’d like to talk about that for a bit. Right after we stop to let our good listeners know about our new sponsor.

 

 

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WL: Okay, so in “The Devil’s Own Piss,” you say that you can make straight-up deals, like a swap. But you prefer to make wagers. Talk about that.

 
L: Yeah, well, the “deal” as you call it, is just that. You give me your soul. In exchange I give you something – I make you a rock star, or I make your dumb-ass blog a success.

 
WL: Hey!

 
L: Not you. I mean other dumb-ass bloggers who think they’re the next Mark Fucking Twain or something. Anyway, straight-up swaps. Your soul in exchange for fame, fortune, women, men, whatever. And that’s what most of us do. Year after year. Century after century.

 
WL: By “us” you mean your brother devils. All the Luci-somethings. How many of you are there?

 
L: Goddamit, is this your plan for this podcast? Ask somebody a question and just as they start to answer it, ask something else altogether? Jesus! Focus! . . . . . . . . . {Big devil sigh} . . . . . . . . . So, yeah, I’ve been roaming the earth for centuries collecting souls. But you’d be surprised how easily a person gives up their soul. I mean, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. “Oh, my unrequited love!” I’ll make it happen. Done! “Oh, I want to succeed in business!” I can do that for you. Done! “I want my dear sweet puppy, Mr. Snuggles to live forever!” Well that’s no problem. Done! People just lining up to throw souls at you. It gets boring. Now, I’ll still make those deals if I’m running short on my quota, but by-and-large, I long ago decided that I prefer the wager system.

 
WL: Wager system?

 
L: Did I stutter? Yes, wager system. Look, I love to gamble. Always have. I know some people think of it as a vice, but what’s it gonna do? Send me to hell? When I can, I try to set up a wager. It’s much more interesting when there’s a possibility I might not get what I want. So let’s play for it. If I win, I get your soul. If you win, you get some stupid petty shit that’s no skin off my nose anyways. It gives the human a chance. It gives me a bit of a gambler’s thrill. Gets my juices flowing.

 
WL: In “The Devil’s Own Piss,” you’re not playing for a soul. You’re playing for the right to be, what? Entertained?

 
L: You make that sound bad. Look, unlike some of the other Lucies, I’m not a soul glutton. I don’t need to go around amassing souls just for shits and giggles. You win, you get a little something. If I win, you do something that makes me laugh my ass off. Isn’t that better than collecting every fucking soul I run across?

 
WL: And humans humiliating themselves is amusing to you?

 
L: Isn’t it to you? How much time you spend on YouTube watching videos of dudes getting hit in the balls?

 
WL: Well . . .

 
L: Exactly. I once got Jimmy the Greek to stick his dick into a jar full of fire ants. If that doesn’t brighten your day, then, brother something’s wrong with you.

 

 

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WL: I don’t think I ever told you this but Right after “The Devil’s Own Piss” first appeared, a friend of mine worked up a script based on the story. Nothing ever came of it but I was wondering, if Hollywood ever gave it a whirl, who do you think should play you?

 
L: Ha! Good question. Maybe . . . um . . . the human manifestation, like Tom Waits maybe. The story mentions that my voice kinda sounds like him anyway. Although, in looks he’s pretty much Soul-Patch Guy to a tee. Maybe it needs to be less literal. Jeff Bridges maybe. As far as the real me? I guess it doesn’t matter ’cause they’d be covered in all that Face-Off-style FX make-up shit. Could be anybody under there.

 
WL: What about Bruce Campbell? I think he’d be great.

 
L: Nah, nobody’d take me seriously. I have to have some gravitas, man.

 
WL: Charlie Hunnam?

 
L: Fuck you brother.

 
WL: Okay, not him. Speaking of celebrities, you ever hang out with them? Movie people? Rock stars? Maybe struck a deal or a wager with one?

 
L: Yeah, sure. You remember, long time ago Adam Sandler used to be funny, then suddenly wasn’t?

 
WL: That was you?

 
L: Yup.

 

 

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WL: So, speaking of golf, do you play?

 
L: Dude, I was playing in Scotland in the 1500s. But yeah, today golf is a terrific wagering game. These thick-neck, musclebound bros all think way too much of themselves. They’re low-hanging fruit. Like your ad says, you might be able to bomb your driver 300 yards, but if you can’t chip and putt? I’ll beat you every time. I’d say I bat about .900 on golf course wagers, if you don’t mind me mixing sports references.

 
WL: So, you like golf wagers. We know from the story that you can throw darts. What else will you place a wager on?

 
L: Whatcha got? No, really, I’ll bet on anything. I mean, I prefer games of skill. I’ve got nothing but time. I’ve learned and practiced more skilled games than you can imagine, golf, darts, poker, tennis, jai alai, mumblety peg, Draft Kings, whatever. I’ll play honest and I’ll probably win. But for lower, goofy-ass stakes, I’ll bet on anything. Flip a coin? Which rain drop will work its way down the windshield first? Frog jumping? I just want something to be on the line. Being immortal is mind-numbingly dull if you don’t take steps to jazz it up.

 

 

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WL: So, We’re about out of time here. Before we go, Lucifestus, do you have any ideas for stories you’d like to be featured in for upcoming posts?

 
L: Some kind of katabasis story would make a lot of sense.

 
WL: A kataba-what?

 
L: Katabasis. It’s a hero’s journey into the underworld. That’s my whole milieu, you know.

 
WL: So, like . . .

 
L: Somebody from the Pickle Juice stories, but NOT Pickle Juice . . .

 
WL: What’s wrong with Pickle Juice?

 
L: Like a lot of stories in the genre, the central character is the least compelling. I mean, look at The Walking Dead. Rick could die tomorrow and nobody’d give a shit. But Michonne or Daryl? Even Carol. They’re interesting. So, no, not Pickle Juice. Send Gustav down to rescue Gertrude. Or Jimmy Trope to rescue his brother. I could propose a wager, they could accept . . . But, hey, I’m not gonna write it for you.

 
WL: Not a bad idea. I’ll see what I can do with it. In the meantime, thank you so much, Lucifestus for joining us here on the inaugural episode of The Devil’s Own Podcast!

 
L: No worries man. Thanks for having me.