The Devil Went Down to Georgia
He was the best fiddler all Hell had ever known. He could hit notes no other Devil ever could. His rhythm could bring the dead to their feet in a jig. The Devil traveled the world going from place to place cheating poor fools out of their souls by challenging them to musical duels on stringed instruments. Not once had he been defeated; not even by the other inhabitants of Hell. Heaven wouldn't bother with him due to their contract: The Earth was Satan's to tempt, and it was humanity's responsibility to say no. That's not to say that the Devil didn't abide by any particular rules. He would warn his opponent of the consequences if they lost to him, but humans are vain creatures who hardly like to back down from such a direct challenge.
In spite of his skills, this Devil hadn't gone to collect any souls for centuries. He simply challenged his fellow demons to duels, winning nothing but fuel for his pride in return. However, the Prince of Hell threatened an eternity of severe punishment if the Devil didn't collect at least one soul in the next twenty-four hours.
The Devil hurried up to the Earth, not really paying attention to where he was. It wasn't a very populated area, but in the distance he could hear someone playing a fiddle. Who ever it was, this person knew how to play. The Devil smirked to himself and hurried towards the sound. He hurried through the bushes clumsily breaking twigs as he went. The sound came closer and closer, and with every step the Devil salivated more. Finally he reached the source of the sound: a young man who looked no older than twenty maybe. The Devil let his saliva pool at his feet as he waited for his prey to finish playing. He didn't bother changing his form, it wasn't an unusual occurrence for devils to approach humans in order to challenge them to some sort of game in order to take their souls.
The music stopped, and the Devil leaped out from behind the bushes onto a hickory stump pointing a long claw at the startled young man looking up at him.
"Boy let me tell you what: I bet you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too.
And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but give the devil his due: I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cos I think I'm better than you."
The young man's shocked expression quickly changed as a smirk replaced his frown. His eyebrows lowered confidently, and he squared his shoulders taking up his fiddle once more.
"My name's Johnny and it might be a sin, but I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, 'cos I'm the best that's ever been."
The Devil grinned toothily bringing out his case, and resined up his bow. "I'll be the one to start this show."
Without wasting any time, the Devil began to play. Fire flew from his fingertips as he did. The hiss of the instrument resounded throughout the clearing, the sun was suddenly hidden by ominous red clouds, and a band of little demons rose out of the ground scurrying around in time to the Devil's playing. The Devil pulled the bow over the strings passionately with his mad grin widening to the corners of his face. His eyes glowed golden in the sudden blood-red twilight. Johnny sat and listened bobbing his foot, unfazed.
The Devil danced around to his own tune, enthralled by the very fires of Hell coming to the surface at the call of his fiddling. The little demons at his feet writhed in a disturbing dance as he hit the climax of his piece. It almost sounded like the fiddle was screeching now. The red sky looked like it was boiling over, and a strong wind whistled through the trees. The fiddle screamed in protest, and then everything slowed down. The fires died slowly, the red clouds slowly evaporated, and the band of demons sank back into the ground as the fiddling dwindled to a stop. The Devil pulled his bow over the strings for the last time and let it hang in his hand directing his menacing gaze at Johnny still grinning madly.
Johnny applauded politely from his seat as the Devil's playing came to an end. Suddenly a whispered chorus of voices passed his ears singing out:
‘Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.
'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.’
Johnny's face pulled into an excited grin of his own looking up at the Devil defiantly.
"Well you're pretty good ol' son. But if you'll sit down in that chair, right there, and let me show you how its done."
Johnny raised his fiddle and began to play. As he did, he saw some boys running past playing tag, followed by an elderly woman with her dog. He heard the clucking of chickens from the pen near by and started to sing as he played a catchy jig:
‘Fire on the moun, run boys, run.
The devil's in the house of the risin' sun.
Chicken in the bread pin, pickin' out dough.
"Granny, does your dog bite?"
"No, child, no."’
Johnny brought all the elements of his land into the song as he bounced in place and all the by standers stopped to listen. The boys joined hands and started jumping around to the tune. It was like the sky lit up even brighter as Johnny struck the chords on his fiddle like lightning. He played fast and hard, back and forth, up and down. He didn't slow down as he picked up the beat another notch. As he played, he sang with an invisible chorus that he suspected was sent from above:
‘Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.
'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.’
And then he sang again the first line he'd just made up, and this time inviting the crowd to join in. They all sang together:
‘Fire on the moun, run boys, run.
The devil's in the house of the risin' sun.
Chicken in the bread pin, pickin' out dough.
"Granny, does your dog bite?"
"No, child, no."’
Everyone broke into dance, even the Devil found himself unwillingly bouncing in place as the energy escalated to infinite proportions, and Johnny's bow was invisible with the speed at which he pulled it over the strings. Johnny closed his eyes for the climax of his piece. The crowd applauded in time, and the old woman's dog ran around Johnny's feet excitedly.
Johnny hit the fastest notes ever heard by anyone around, and the catchiest tune the world had ever known. He violently jammed his bow over the strings a few times, and then cut off the tune with an abrupt finale. The crowd broke into screams and applause, and Johnny was still grinning as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
The Devil bowed his head knowing that he'd been beat. He said nothing and simply lay the golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet.
The young man put his hands on his hips looking down at the Devil with a smirk.
"Devil just come on back if you ever want to try again. 'Cos I told you once, you son of a gun, I'm the best that's ever been."
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Okay, so here's the first story idea that Harjot asked for. In case anyone's wondering, I wrote "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" from the Devil's point of view. If you need to look it up, its on youtube. I prefer the Charlie Daniels Band version, but if you want an awesome music video, then look up the version by Primus. Or you could just open the Primus and the Charlie Daniels version, mute the Primus version and play the Charlie Daniels to it instead. xD Which ever.
Hope you liked it.
Now, on to Yash's idea.
In spite of his skills, this Devil hadn't gone to collect any souls for centuries. He simply challenged his fellow demons to duels, winning nothing but fuel for his pride in return. However, the Prince of Hell threatened an eternity of severe punishment if the Devil didn't collect at least one soul in the next twenty-four hours.
The Devil hurried up to the Earth, not really paying attention to where he was. It wasn't a very populated area, but in the distance he could hear someone playing a fiddle. Who ever it was, this person knew how to play. The Devil smirked to himself and hurried towards the sound. He hurried through the bushes clumsily breaking twigs as he went. The sound came closer and closer, and with every step the Devil salivated more. Finally he reached the source of the sound: a young man who looked no older than twenty maybe. The Devil let his saliva pool at his feet as he waited for his prey to finish playing. He didn't bother changing his form, it wasn't an unusual occurrence for devils to approach humans in order to challenge them to some sort of game in order to take their souls.
The music stopped, and the Devil leaped out from behind the bushes onto a hickory stump pointing a long claw at the startled young man looking up at him.
"Boy let me tell you what: I bet you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too.
And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but give the devil his due: I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cos I think I'm better than you."
The young man's shocked expression quickly changed as a smirk replaced his frown. His eyebrows lowered confidently, and he squared his shoulders taking up his fiddle once more.
"My name's Johnny and it might be a sin, but I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, 'cos I'm the best that's ever been."
The Devil grinned toothily bringing out his case, and resined up his bow. "I'll be the one to start this show."
Without wasting any time, the Devil began to play. Fire flew from his fingertips as he did. The hiss of the instrument resounded throughout the clearing, the sun was suddenly hidden by ominous red clouds, and a band of little demons rose out of the ground scurrying around in time to the Devil's playing. The Devil pulled the bow over the strings passionately with his mad grin widening to the corners of his face. His eyes glowed golden in the sudden blood-red twilight. Johnny sat and listened bobbing his foot, unfazed.
The Devil danced around to his own tune, enthralled by the very fires of Hell coming to the surface at the call of his fiddling. The little demons at his feet writhed in a disturbing dance as he hit the climax of his piece. It almost sounded like the fiddle was screeching now. The red sky looked like it was boiling over, and a strong wind whistled through the trees. The fiddle screamed in protest, and then everything slowed down. The fires died slowly, the red clouds slowly evaporated, and the band of demons sank back into the ground as the fiddling dwindled to a stop. The Devil pulled his bow over the strings for the last time and let it hang in his hand directing his menacing gaze at Johnny still grinning madly.
Johnny applauded politely from his seat as the Devil's playing came to an end. Suddenly a whispered chorus of voices passed his ears singing out:
‘Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.
'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.’
Johnny's face pulled into an excited grin of his own looking up at the Devil defiantly.
"Well you're pretty good ol' son. But if you'll sit down in that chair, right there, and let me show you how its done."
Johnny raised his fiddle and began to play. As he did, he saw some boys running past playing tag, followed by an elderly woman with her dog. He heard the clucking of chickens from the pen near by and started to sing as he played a catchy jig:
‘Fire on the moun, run boys, run.
The devil's in the house of the risin' sun.
Chicken in the bread pin, pickin' out dough.
"Granny, does your dog bite?"
"No, child, no."’
Johnny brought all the elements of his land into the song as he bounced in place and all the by standers stopped to listen. The boys joined hands and started jumping around to the tune. It was like the sky lit up even brighter as Johnny struck the chords on his fiddle like lightning. He played fast and hard, back and forth, up and down. He didn't slow down as he picked up the beat another notch. As he played, he sang with an invisible chorus that he suspected was sent from above:
‘Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.
'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.’
And then he sang again the first line he'd just made up, and this time inviting the crowd to join in. They all sang together:
‘Fire on the moun, run boys, run.
The devil's in the house of the risin' sun.
Chicken in the bread pin, pickin' out dough.
"Granny, does your dog bite?"
"No, child, no."’
Everyone broke into dance, even the Devil found himself unwillingly bouncing in place as the energy escalated to infinite proportions, and Johnny's bow was invisible with the speed at which he pulled it over the strings. Johnny closed his eyes for the climax of his piece. The crowd applauded in time, and the old woman's dog ran around Johnny's feet excitedly.
Johnny hit the fastest notes ever heard by anyone around, and the catchiest tune the world had ever known. He violently jammed his bow over the strings a few times, and then cut off the tune with an abrupt finale. The crowd broke into screams and applause, and Johnny was still grinning as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
The Devil bowed his head knowing that he'd been beat. He said nothing and simply lay the golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet.
The young man put his hands on his hips looking down at the Devil with a smirk.
"Devil just come on back if you ever want to try again. 'Cos I told you once, you son of a gun, I'm the best that's ever been."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, so here's the first story idea that Harjot asked for. In case anyone's wondering, I wrote "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" from the Devil's point of view. If you need to look it up, its on youtube. I prefer the Charlie Daniels Band version, but if you want an awesome music video, then look up the version by Primus. Or you could just open the Primus and the Charlie Daniels version, mute the Primus version and play the Charlie Daniels to it instead. xD Which ever.
Hope you liked it.
Now, on to Yash's idea.
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