Solomon pulled off his hard hat, panting, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and straightened his back with a crunch. Each vertebra seemed to protest, making a sound like the snapping of branches.
"Oh, you old nag," he muttered, wincing and throwing his pick aside. "What, am I a builder now, too?"
He turned to his crew, a group of sweaty but incredibly cheerful workers whose muscles glistened in the sun as if they had been oiled for a bodybuilding show. They wiped the sweat from their faces, flashed dazzling smiles, and waved at him as if to say, "Don't sweat it, bro."
"You guys are gold," Solomon said with sincere gratitude, clapping the one closest to him on the shoulder. "Straightforward guys, really." If anything happens, I know who to contact.
"Come on, Solomon," one of them chuckled, adjusting his helmet. "Call me anytime, we'll finish the tower, build a castle, whatever!"
"Just bring some beer next time!" another winked, and the whole team burst into laughter.
Solomon breathed a sigh of relief and turned his gaze to his creation. The tower towered before him – not huge, like in fairy tales about evil sorcerers, but not some kind of hovel either. Tall, made of gray stone, with narrow windows and a small balcony, it was… perfect. His own little corner in this crazy world. He felt his throat tingle, and tears treacherously glistened in his eyes.
"Damn, I really did it," he whispered, wiping his cheek with his sleeve.
Solomon stood there frozen in shock as he stepped inside. The interior wasn't just finished, it was a dream! A modern room with soft lighting, a cozy sofa, a minibar stocked with bottles, and, oh my god, a fridge humming quietly in the corner. He nearly squealed with delight, rushed to the fridge and pulled out an ice-cold bottle of Coke.
"This is... this is heaven," he muttered, sitting down carefully on the sofa, still expecting some kind of trick. He clutched the Coke in his hands like a sacred relic and was about to open it when a loud, pompous cry came from outside:
"DRAGON! COME OUT TO FIGHT TO THE DEATH, IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD!"
Solomon jerked, nearly dropping the Coke, and cursed so loudly that even the demons in his head whistled.
"What the hell?!" — he growled, jumping up and stomping towards the balcony. "I just sat down, damn it!"
He leaned out and saw a knight in shining armor, waving his sword and shouting something about honor and courage. His horse was nervously stamping its hooves, and the knight himself looked like he had escaped from a medieval LARP.
"Hey, man!" Solomon shouted, leaning over the railing. "You've got the wrong tower! The dragon is over there, over the hill! Get lost!"
The knight froze, sheepishly scratched his helmet and muttered:
"Oh, forgive me, Mister Wizard. It happens."
He turned his horse and galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. Solomon sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.
"At least you apologized," he muttered, returning to the sofa. But before he could take a step, a new voice - sweet as molasses - came from below:
"Oh, Helen, my beautiful Helen! Your beauty outshines the stars!"
Solomon froze, his face turned to stone. Slowly, with a dead look, he returned to the balcony. Below stood a handsome guy in a crown, holding a lute in his hands, reciting poetry with such pathos that even the birds in the trees rolled their eyes.
"Seriously?"Solomon groaned. "Hey, half-baked Romeo! Helen is in the other tower! Go there," he pointed his finger in a random direction.
The prince bowed, not the least bit embarrassed.
"Thank you, oh wise wizard!"he exclaimed and, humming, galloped off into the forest.
Solomon clenched his teeth, feeling a migraine starting in his head.
"Maybe I should put up a fence?"he muttered. - Or a sign: "No dragons, no princesses, move on"?
He had already turned around to finally open his cola, when suddenly a new voice - rough, bass, with a note of irritation - thundered from below, followed by another, high and chatty. Solomon slapped his face with his palm so hard that he almost left an imprint.
"Damn you all!" he growled, going out onto the balcony for the third time.
And froze. Below stood... a green ogre and a donkey. Yes, that same ogre, huge, with ears like burdocks, and a donkey with an impudent grin, as if he had just told a joke. They both stared at Solomon, and he, in turn, looked at them, feeling how his brain was finally saying goodbye to reality.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" he yelled.
The ogre scratched the back of his head, clearly confused.
"Hey, man," he mumbled. "We need to get my swamp back. And there's supposed to be a princess here. Where did you hide her?"
Solomon pointed at himself, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
"ME?! A PRINCESS?! Look at me! Do I look like a princess?!"
The donkey chuckled, squinting.
" Well, from afar, I do. Especially with these curls,"he nodded at Solomon's disheveled hair.
Solomon slapped himself in the face again, the demons in his head burst into laughter.
" Shut up, you devils!" he barked mentally, and then turned to the intruders. " You've got the universe all wrong! I don't give a shit about your swamp! Get lost, or I'll give you such a hard time that you won't have to make Shrek 5!"
The ogre frowned, crossing his arms.
"I'm not leaving without the swamp," he muttered. "And give me the princess."
"THERE IS NO PRINCESS!" Solomon yelled. "And I don't give a damn about your swamp! Shove it in your..." He stopped, waved his hand, and finished: "In short, get off my tower!"
He turned and walked away, leaving the stunned ogre and donkey looking at each other.
"What a man," the donkey muttered. "And I thought Fiona had a temper."
Solomon, seething with irritation, stormed back into the tower and got to work. Enough! He was not going to tolerate this circus. Grabbing his tools, he began to make traps: he strung up ropes with bells, dug holes camouflaged with grass, and, hell, even made a couple of fake mines with the words "Don't touch, it will explode!" At the entrance, he hung a huge wooden sign:
"NO DRAGONS. NO PRINCESSES. GET THE FUCK OUT"
When he was done, he wiped his hands, nodded with satisfaction, and returned to the tower. He plopped down on the couch, opened a Coke - oh, that divine hissing sound! - and took a sip. Tears of joy gushed from his eyes.
"Drink of the gods," he whispered, almost sobbing.
He took a burger out of the fridge, took a bite, and his soul seemed to ascend to heaven. The cheese was running down his chin, the bun was crunchy, and the cutlet was so juicy that he almost started singing a national anthem.
"This… this is happiness," he muttered, leaning back on the sofa.
After the feast, Solomon, feeling like the king of the world, collapsed on the bed. Tomorrow he would be lazy. Tomorrow he would rest. And let this crazy world go to hell. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep, dreaming of silence, peace, and endless cola.
Somewhere in his head, the demons exchanged glances.
"I bet a unicorn shows up tomorrow?" Gremory giggled.
"Or a mermaid," another chimed in. "I bet popcorn!"
Solomon, fortunately, didn't hear it. He slept, hugging an empty bottle of cola like a talisman of his newfound paradise.
***
While Solomon slept, drowning in blissful dreams where he bathed in a sea of fizzy cola and dove into mountains of juicy burgers, the world around him was not going to give him peace. Rumors of a mysterious tower that literally appeared out of nowhere spread faster than a forest fire. Someone whispered that a dragon was hidden there, guarding mountains of gold. Others swore that a beauty languished in the tower, whose beauty made the stars fade. And the wisest — or the craziest — claimed that ancient knowledge was kept there, capable of changing the world. Daredevils, thirsty for glory, one after another set out to conquer the tower, but they all returned empty-handed, with skinned knees and stories of traps that seemed to laugh at them.
Eventually, the patience of the neighboring kingdoms snapped. It was decided to gather an army of thousands to deal with this damn tower once and for all. Flags fluttered, horses neighed, catapults creaked — and so, to the beat of drums, the army moved towards the goal.
And Solomon? He slept, hugging an empty bottle of cola like a teddy bear, and saw the tenth dream about a burger with triple cheese. But his idyll collapsed when the tower suddenly shook, as if someone decided to arrange an earthquake. With a loud "BAM!" he flew out of bed, collapsing onto the floor with a crash worthy of a meteorite.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" he screamed, jumping up and looking around in shock. The floor was shaking, the walls were humming, and somewhere outside there were screams and sounds that suspiciously resembled... shelling?!
Solomon stumbled onto the balcony, almost knocking down the door. Leaning out, he froze, his jaw dropped, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. On the horizon, as far as the eye could see, an army of thousands stretched out. Flags with coats of arms, shining armor, catapults ready for battle - it looked like a scene from an epic fantasy, only it seemed like he was the main villain!
"WHAT, ARE THEY STORMING ME?!" he screamed, clutching his head. "WHAT THE HELL?!" WHAT DID I DO TO THEM?!
At that moment, the sun, as luck would have it, hit him square in the face, blinding him and forcing him to squint. But to the army below, it looked quite different. They saw a majestic figure, shrouded in radiance, with long white hair (though in reality it was his disheveled locks, backlit by the sun) flowing in the wind. The light hid his face, giving him an almost divine appearance. The soldiers gasped, some even falling to their knees.
"It's her!" one shouted, wiping away tears. "The legendary beauty! The rumors were true!"
"What grace! What power!" sobbed another, clutching his helmet to his chest.
The commander, a huge man with a beard like a Viking, barked:
"Boys, pull yourself together! This is no time to whine! Our goal is near, but the enemy is not yet defeated! For the people!" For the salt! For the kingdom!
"YESSS!" the army roared, and immediately the air was filled with the whistle of arrows and the crash of stones fired from catapults.
Solomon, standing on the balcony, looked at this madness with an expression on his face that could only be described as "completely fucked up."
"THEY'RE STORMING ME?!" he screamed, running around the room in circles. "WHAT FOR?! I JUST WANTED A COLA AND BURGERS!"
A stone flew dangerously close to the tower, breaking one of the windows. Solomon realized: it was time to leave. He rushed to the refrigerator, grabbed the last bottle of cola and a couple of burgers wrapped in foil, and, casting a longing glance at his favorite sofa, almost burst into tears.
"Goodbye, my paradise," he groaned dramatically, adding more pathos to his voice. — I'll come back for you!
He ran towards the exit, his heels flashing, deftly jumping over his own traps — ropes, pits, fake mines. Arrows whistled over his head, rocks destroyed walls, and the demons in his head laughed as if they were watching the comedy of the year.
"Oh, I can't! " Gremory laughed. "You're being stormed for being a "beauty"! This is the peak of your career!"
"Shut up, little one!" Solomon growled, dodging another arrow. "I'll show you yet!"
He ran until he was sure that the noise of the battle had died down. He stopped and collapsed on the grass, breathing heavily and clutching the cola and burgers in his hands like his last treasures.
"What... what's going on? " he croaked, looking up at the sky. "Why am I being stormed? I just wanted to sit on the couch, eat burgers and drink cola! This world is really trolling me!
He took a couple of steps, still muttering curses, and suddenly tripped. The ground gave way under his feet, and with a cry of "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" he fell into some hole. Solomon was ready to swear that there was no hole here! After rolling down an earthen tunnel like a roller coaster, he fell out into... a forest? But not an ordinary forest, but some kind of damn pastry paradise. The trees were strewn with donuts, the streams flowed with chocolate syrup, and the air smelled like vanilla cream.
"Is this Willy Wonka country?" Solomon muttered, looking around.
His gaze fell on a huge house standing in the middle of a clearing. The house was... made of gingerbread? With a marshmallow roof and caramel windows. Solomon shrugged, spat on the ground (well, it wasn't his forest) and went inside. Inside, everything was even more surreal: tables made of chocolate, chairs made of marzipan, and a carpet of cotton candy on the floor.
"Seriously?" he chuckled. "Just sweets? Where's the normal food?"
But then the house began to... change. The walls shook, the caramel windows melted, and in front of the astonished Solomon, the house turned into a giant burger. The bun was shining with a golden crust, the lettuce was crunchy, and the cheese was stretchy, just like in the ad. His eyes lit up like a kid at Disneyland.
"OH MY GOD!" he yelled, rushing towards the burger. "IT'S MY DAY!"
He took a bite, and his soul seemed to soar to the heavens. The patty was juicy, the sauce was divine, and the bun was soft as a cloud. He chewed, humming with pleasure and washing it all down with a cola, which he swore was the best thing he had ever had in his life.
"This… this is the meaning of life," he muttered, sprawled on the "floor" of the burger, which was now his bed.
The demons in his head, still chuckling, decided not to interfere. Even Gremory only chuckled:
"At least you ate, beautiful."
Solomon, not paying attention to them, finished the burger, finished the cola and collapsed in blissful satiety. This world could storm his towers, throw him into holes, call him princess - but as long as he had burgers and cola, he was ready to fight. Or at least chew.
***
Solomon was in seventh heaven, blissfully munching on his giant burger house. The patty melted in his mouth, the cheese stretched like in the best cooking shows, and the cola hissed like divine nectar. He leaned back against the bun "wall", wiping crumbs from his chin, and was already dreaming about how he would arrange a siesta for himself. But this crazy world, as always, had other plans.
Meanwhile, the witch was approaching the former gingerbread house, now converted into a burger. Her hooked nose stuck out like an antenna, and her rare teeth glistened in an evil grin. In her hands she was dragging a cage in which Hansel and Gretel were sitting, reduced by a potion to the size of hamsters. The children huddled together, their eyes full of terror, and the witch, giggling, looked forward to feeding them and… well, you know what she was planning.
"Oh, my sweeties," she muttered hoarsely, rubbing her bony hands. "First the pies, then the soup, and then… hee-hee-hee, the main course!"
But when the witch approached her house, her jaw dropped. Instead of a cozy gingerbread cottage with caramel windows, there was… something. A huge, spherical thing with a bun for a roof and lettuce leaves sticking out. The witch froze, her brain trying to comprehend this outrage.
"This… what the hell is this?!" she muttered, squinting.
Hansel and Gretel, still shivering in the cage, also stared at the burger house, but their fear of the witch was greater than their curiosity. Then a loud slurping sound came from the "house". The witch became wary, and then Solomon's head popped out of the hole in the bun, covered in crumbs and a ketchup stain on his cheek. He froze, staring at the witch. The witch froze, staring at him. The children in the cage gasped, not understanding what was happening.
"WHO IS THIS?!" Solomon barked, his gaze darting to the cage with the children, and then to the witch. Her crooked nose, warts, and sinister grin immediately gave her away as a classic fairy tale villain. His brows drew together, his eyes flashing with anger. "Come on, old hag, what the hell is going on here?!"
The witch, still in shock, opened her mouth, but didn't have time to say anything. Solomon, burning with righteous anger, began to climb out of the hole, but... he was stuck. His shoulders were pinched tightly in the bun, and he began to curse, trying to squeeze through.
"Damn you, burger!" he growled, kicking his legs. "Let me out, I said!"
The children in the cage looked at each other, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. The witch, coming to her senses, began to giggle, but then Solomon finally broke free with a loud "PLOP!" and, tripping, almost fell to the ground. He quickly fixed his hair, shook off the crumbs and, as if by magic, straightened up, radiating a blinding light. The sun, as luck would have it, hit him in the back, creating a shining halo around him, as if he were some kind of messiah.
The witch shrieked, covering her eyes.
"TOO BRIGHT!" she screamed, dropping the cage and waving her arms like a windmill.
Solomon, wasting no time, clenched his fist. Rings flashed on his fingers, and with a cry of "EAT THIS, OLD GIRL!" he punched the witch right in the jaw. The blow was so strong that all three and a half of the witch's teeth flew out of her mouth, and she herself, eyes bulging, fell unconscious like a sack of potatoes.
The children gasped and the cage clanked as it fell next to them. Solomon, breathing hard, walked over to it and crouched down, peering inside. Hansel and Gretel, still tiny, were looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope.
"Hey, little ones, who are you?" he asked, trying to sound gentle. "And what did that hag do to you?"
Hansel, sobbing, managed to choke out:
"We… Hansel and Gretel… She caught us… She wanted to fatten us up and eat us! They threw us out of the house, and…"
Gretel burst into tears, burying her face in her brother's shoulder. Solomon felt a tightness in his chest. He frowned, glanced at the unconscious witch, and muttered:
"Well, you're done for, old woman."
He snapped his fingers and a cloud of sparks appeared out of nowhere. The spell worked instantly: the cage disappeared, and Hansel and Gretel returned to their normal sizes, standing in front of Solomon with their eyes wide open.
"You're... a wizard?!" Gretel exclaimed, pointing her finger at him.
Solomon snorted indignantly, crossing his arms.
"A WIZARD?!" he barked. "I'm not thirty years old, little one! I'm a MAGICIAN! The King of the Magicians, by the way! Wow!" He proudly poked himself in the chest, although he looked like a disheveled guy in a T-shirt with a ketchup stain.
The children looked at each other, clearly not understanding what he was talking about, but shrugged. Solomon sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Okay, little ones, want to come with me?" he asked, although deep down he already regretted his offer. "It's not that I like messing around with children, but I'm certainly not going to leave you with that psychopath.
To his surprise, Hansel and Gretel nodded happily, their faces lighting up.
"Yes! Yes!" they cried in unison, almost jumping for joy.
Solomon rolled his eyes, but then it dawned on him. He squinted slyly, and although no lightbulb lit up over his head, his devilish grin spoke for itself.
"Excellent," he said, pulling out a coil of rope from nowhere.
The children gasped and clapped their hands, to which Solomon barked:
"I'm not a circus performer, little ones! We'll really punish this witch now!"
He deftly tied up the unconscious witch, hooked the rope to a tree, and hung her upside down, head down. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he lit a fire right below her. Smoke began to rise, lazily wrapping itself around the witch. She coughed, came to her senses and, seeing herself in this position, screamed:
"LET ME GO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU DAMNED ONE?!"
Solomon crossed his arms, stepped closer, and leaned toward her with the most sinister grin he could muster.
"Listen, old woman," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm a good mage who eats bad witches. And you know what I like to do before I eat them? Lightly smoke them. And then…" he paused, enjoying her horror, "roast them over a slow fire."
The witch screamed so loudly that it seemed the trees around her shook. Her screams were music to Solomon's ears, and the demons in his head nearly burst with laughter.
"Oh, bravo!" Gremory choked. "You're officially the king of trolling now!"
Hansel and Gretel, standing next to each other, suddenly began to clap their hands and sing in ringing voices, jumping up and down with joy:
"Witch, witch, you are terrible,
You are disgusting and scary!"
But our great wizard came,
He ate the witch - and there was no sadness!
Solomon, standing with a devilish grin, looked at the screaming witch and the laughing children. His heart was filled with a strange mixture of pride and absurd joy.
"Well, little ones," he said, winking at Hansel and Gretel. "Shall we go look for a new home? Only without burgers this time. Or..." he thought, "damn, I want more burgers.
The children laughed, and the witch continued to scream until the smoke completely obscured her. Solomon, pleased with himself, led his new team away, humming the melody of their rhyme under his breath. This world might be crazy, but damn, he was starting to like it.
***
Solomon felt his patience growing thin as he walked through the endless maze of cotton candy-covered trees and chocolate syrup streams. This candy-making hell was getting to him. He trudged along, trying to put up a good front in front of Hansel and Gretel and their newfound energy, but inside his mind was screaming, ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT! The children, of course, were oblivious to his inner turmoil, stomping along happily alongside him, humming some silly rhyme they had made up about witches and burgers. Their voices echoed in the sweet air, and Solomon, gritting his teeth, tried not to break down.
"How long can we wander around here?!" he muttered under his breath, kicking a pile of gummy mushrooms. "Am I a tour guide to Willy Wonka's land now?"
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a quiet, plaintive cry. Solomon froze, listening. Hansel and Gretel also stopped, their faces serious.
"Someone's crying!" Gretel cried, fiddling with the hem of her dress.
"Let's go check it out!" Hansel added, ready to run.
Solomon sighed, but nodded.
"Okay, kids, let's go. But if it's another ogre or lunatic with a lute, I won't be responsible for myself."
They moved toward the source of the sound, making their way through the thickets of candy bushes. Soon they saw a little girl with long blond curls sitting on a stump of chocolate chip cookies. She was sobbing, wiping her tears with a lace handkerchief, and her blue dress was slightly stained with caramel. Hansel and Gretel immediately ran to her, starting to console her like seasoned psychologists.
"Don't cry!" said Gretel, hugging the girl. "We're here, we've got a cool wizard with us!"
"Yes, he beat the witch!" Hansel added proudly, pointing his finger at Solomon.
The girl looked up with tear-stained eyes and sniffled.
"I... I'm Alice," she muttered. "I'm lost... I don't know how to get home..."
Solomon, watching this scene, felt his heart involuntarily soften. The corners of his lips twitched in a warm smile, but he quickly pulled himself together. You can't relax in this crazy world! He cleared his throat, straightened his back, assumed his signature pose - one hand on his hip, the other raised to the sky - and stepped forward with regal grandeur. The sun's light, as if on cue, hit him in the back, creating a shining halo around him. Alice gasped, her eyes lighting up like stars, and Hansel and Gretel clapped their hands.
"I am Solomon, the King of the Wizards!" he declared, his voice booming like thunder. "Master of spells, destroyer of witches, and, by the way, lover of burgers! Look, little one, what I can do!"
He snapped his fingers, and sparks flew out of nowhere, turning into tiny, glowing butterflies. They swirled around Alice, and then gathered into miniature fireworks that exploded above their heads in the shape of… a burger. The children squealed with delight, and Alice, forgetting her tears, clapped her hands.
"You're a real wizard!" she exclaimed.
Solomon opened his mouth to correct her, but then the demons in his head didn't miss the chance.
"Oh, come on, King of Magic!" Gremory giggled. "It's time for you to get your trick license and join the circus! You'll be doing tricks with burgers!"
"Shut up, you devils!" Solomon mentally barked, clenching his fists. "You're not helping at all! I'm sick of this maze! I'll curse you, I swear!"
He turned to the children, trying to save face.
"Hey, little ones, what do you think of this place?" he asked, pointing at the donuts and caramel puddles surrounding them. - Still fun?"
Hansel grimaced.
"Not so much anymore. I'm tired of sweets, and... it's kind of scary."
Gretel nodded, fiddling with her braid.
"We want to go home..."
Alice, wiping away her last tears, looked at Solomon with such hope that he felt like a hero of some stupid cartoon.
"Can you get us out?" she asked quietly.
Solomon puffed out his chest, his eyes glittering. This was his moment. He felt the world around him freeze, as if space itself was holding its breath in anticipation. He waved away the pompous feeling, but he couldn't resist theatricality.
"Look, kids, how it's done!" he proclaimed, beginning to stretch as if he were preparing for a marathon. He cracked his neck, twisted his wrists, and even did a couple of squats. "Warming up is the key to health, okay? Now, repeat!"
The children, giggling, began to awkwardly imitate him, although Alice almost fell over trying to touch her toes. Solomon, pleased, suddenly pulled out a basket of vegetables from nowhere – carrots, broccoli, celery. The children immediately grimaced, and Gretel even hid behind Hansel.
"Ugh, vegetables!" — she groaned.
"Easy, little ones!" Solomon chuckled, snapping his fingers. A blender materialized out of thin air, and with the dexterity of a bartender, it began chopping vegetables. A minute later, he poured a bright orange smoothie into glasses. "Drink up, this is the carrot nectar of the gods!"
The children tried it cautiously, but their faces immediately lit up.
"Delicious!" Hansel exclaimed, wiping his orange mustache. "More!"
"Ha, and you thought I was going to poison you?" Solomon ruffled their hair, despite their indignant cries. Gretel tried to fight back, and Alice giggled sheepishly. He laughed, but quickly became serious, assuming his regal pose.
"Now, little ones, hold on! " he proclaimed, holding his hands out in front of him. His rings and tattoos began to glow with an otherworldly light. The children gasped, stepping back.
Solomon began to sing - not some pop song, but an ancient hymn that made the space around him tremble. The air became thick, the cotton candy trees began to bend, and the chocolate streams froze, as if in fear. Reality itself seemed to be begging him: "Don't, man, have mercy!" But Solomon only burst out laughing, raised his middle finger to the sky and shouted:
"THE EXIT, FUCKING ONE!"
A bright flash blinded everyone. The children closed their eyes, and when they opened them, they were standing on an elevated clearing, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. The grass swayed in a light breeze, and in the distance they could see hills covered in flowers. The labyrinth disappeared like a bad dream.
Solomon, breathing heavily, collapsed on the grass and burst out laughing.
"So, kids, how was the adventure?" he asked, winking.
Hansel, Gretel, and Alice surrounded him, their faces beaming.
"You're the best!" Alice exclaimed, jumping up and down.
"Can I do it again?" Hansel asked, to which Gretel nudged him with her elbow.
"You're crazy!" she protested, but then smiled at Solomon. "But you're cool."
Solomon leaned back, looking up at the orange sky.
"That was a good show," he muttered, grinning. "But damn, I still want a burger."
Somewhere in his head, demons giggled.
"Well, admit it, trickster, it suits you," Gremory teased.
"Fuck you," Solomon muttered to himself, but his smile only grew wider. This world was crazy, but damn, he was starting to find joy in it.