A powerful new aroma rose drew demons from near and far to the enormous kitchen.
“I smell sea salt,” moaned Festus as he wiped his drool on his sleeve.
“Do you really? I smell Vegemite!” exclaimed Provokus.
“You’re both wrong. It’s meat pies! That smell of melting, bubbling flesh is unmistakeable.” Cocky and confident, Argumentus sneered at the obvious errors of the others.
“Damn, I wanted some January 26 lamingtons, or a pavlova.” Minimus, the smallest of them all, who also had the sweetest tooth, looked very disappointed.
“Hey boss, what’s cooking?” Festus asked.
Satan snickered as he answered: “Australia.”
Copyright 2019 by Joanne Van Leerdam