Seven-Sloth and Gluttony

Here is the whip man, the wiry muscled man who jitters and hisses, pacing while reading the paper in his shaking hand. He takes a huge gulp of the scalding hot coffee from the mug in his hand.

The bone white mug has painted letters on it. There is a line at the top, with a message reading "Half Full." near the middle, another line reads "Half empty", and a line at the bottom, in red, "Pour More Goddamn Coffee."

"Do you understand what this means? This... This... Thing?" the man's voice is getting progressively more frantic. He slaps the paper viciously, and growls.

He is speaking to the other man, seated calmly at the table.

The other man is eating a steak, filet mignon, the best. Only the best.

The other man is razor thin, like a skeleton dipped in hot yellow wax. He does not show any emotion, but his eyes blaze, and perhaps the motion of cutting and eating is more energized, intense than strictly necessary.

"I mean, Christ, we were doing so goddamn well. World of Worldquest has three million players! Three million, that's billions of hours, heck, billions of dollars straight to me, to us! And think of the unemployment rates, dropout rates...."

he turns to the other man.

"and you! Fast food? Done!" cut, chew, "Microwaveable meals! Done!" cut, cut, CUT, "trans fats? Hydrogenated oils? Hell, chickens, cows, pigs, all kaput!" the plate shatters with a sad crunch. A huge hunk of steak enters the skeletal man's mouth, and the fork emerges a dented, warped twist of metal. A drop of red blood dribbles down to the edge of his chin.

Fast as lightning, a red, red tongue emerges and snaps the drop up from the bottom of his chin. It snakes back into his mouth, and finally Gluttony speaks.

"Kill them all." he suggests "Let God sort them out."

Sloth bites his lip, fingers tapping nervously.

"No, no.... Something like this, we'd have to get God too...."

-Locke and Peter