“Guided Tour”
By Laszlo Belarski
Hell’s Gate, Nevada - 6.6 miles
South of Las Vegas
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Tour Guide began,
"Leyendecker Casinos welcome you to Helltours, the journey of a lifetime -
or should I say, an after-lifetime?" The stale joke caused muffled laughs
among the thirty passengers inside her wagon.
With a pleasant whir, the ten-wagon monorail train smoothly advanced
through the apocalyptic landscape. Massive black cliffs dropped vertiginously
to an immense lake of bubbling lava.
“As History records, the discovery of Hell’s Gate in 2006 was purely
coincidental,” the Guide continued, “on June 6th at 6pm, 66-year-old retired
insurance broker Ronald Buxton was planting a fence post in his garden in
Paradise, Nevada. As he hit the post with a hammer, a crack appeared in the
ground, soon growing into a deep crevice. Before long, Mr. Buxton, his house
and the whole town of Paradise were swallowed by the huge volcanic canyon we
now know as Devil’s Fault.
“On your right you can now see the statue of Thirteenth-Century Italian
poet Dante Alighieri - preparing to enter the realms of Inferno, as narrated in
his ‘Divine Comedy’.”
The train entered a tunnel carved in one of the cliffs. A pungent smell
of sulfur invaded the wagons; distant screams became audible. The tunnel led to
a gigantic cavern, crisscrossed with rocky bridges and narrow walkways above
the luminescent lava. A whisper of wonderment from the passengers accompanied
the uncanny sight of flying devilish creatures silhouetted against the bright
river of fire, pushing flocks of naked humans to their fates. The damned souls’
screams were now ear piercing.
“The Halls of Suffering. The craters you can see divide the damned
according to their sins. You can see the starved Gluttons, forced to witness
every single meal they ate in their lives consumed in front of them; the
Greedy, who are given a huge stack of money every morning, only to see it
pillaged coin by coin by their worst enemies…”
As the tour progressed, the passengers’ excitement grew.
“Admire to your left, the mighty Demon Falls, whose 450-foot drop of
1200-degrees Celsius lava dwarfs even Niagara…
“Behold the Gallery of Celebrities, where the VIPs among the sinners
are petrified for eternity, still conscious. Observe their desperate eyes,
moving inside the rocky shells of their bodies. We are now passing Stalin...
Hitler... Pol-Pot... Ceausescu...”
As instructed, towards the end of the tour the Guide discreetly pushed
a hidden button. “Thanks for choosing Helltours,” she eventually concluded,
“Leyendecker Casinos hope you enjoyed the ride. Don’t miss the souvenir shop.
Real-lava lamps are on sale!”
Las Vegas, Nevada - Leyendecker Tower Penthouse
“Scram, bimbos, get lost!”
bellowed Harry Leyendecker, pushing three voluptuous girls out of his enormous
Jacuzzi. He snatched the gold-plated phone his assistant was handing him. When
he was alone in the black marble bathroom, Leyendecker answered the call.
“Lucifer, my friend!” he began, jovial, ”What can I do for you, big
guy?” He winced at the angry barking coming from the handset. “What you say?
Half-empty?” his grin faded away. “Of course the last wagon should have been
full of people, that’s our pact! Don’t you worry, I’m gonna have someone’s head
for this!” He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of a hand, then continued,
“No, it won’t happen again, I give you my word!” He raised from the Jacuzzi,
grabbed a towel.
“Tell you what, pal,” he tried to lighten the mood, “How about I send
you a special treat with next shipment?” He paused. “You’re gonna love it! I
got a bunch of Nuns booked for a Tour next week...” he laughed at the other’s
reaction, “That’s right! A wagon full of them! I’ll take care of it personally.
Sure! Alright, big guy, you be good!”
He hanged the phone, then called his assistant.
“Send some complimentary Helltours Weekend Vouchers to thirty Nuns from
the closest convent, NOW!” he barked.
Eventually relaxing, Harry Leyendecker grinned. Men or devils, he knew
how to keep his business partners happy.
END
© Copyright Laszlo
Belarski 2005