Oh Hell No!

by Flint Sparks

Oh hell no!

Lashona Ariana Burkes was living the life. Having just paid off her mortgage, sent her last kid to college, and currently celebrating with vanilla ice cream in New York City. Indeed, it was the American dream. Currently clocking at two hundred pounds of sheer sass, the strong independent woman walked down the sidewalk without a care in the world.

She considered herself average, as many Americans did. Born and raised in the ghetto, Lashona quickly learned that the world was corrupt and disillusioned with itself. People back-stabbed, stole, and fought each other at a drop of the hat. Each year in her childhood held another lesson teaching her that one truth. On the night of senior prom, her date had the audacity to skip out for rave at the beach. Downhearted and furious, Lashona finally faced the world for its true self and said no. 

She wasn't taking any of its shit anymore. Lashona was a strong independent woman who didn't need no man. Breaking all expectations, she went to and finished college, met a man (who she later divorced for being a “deadbeat prick who didn't even look for a job”), and had three children to be proud of. Empty nest, debt paid off, Lashona was finally a free woman. Free at last.

A few people stared at the black woman walking down the street, uncomfortable to see someone radiating confidence and joy on the somber city streets of New York. They were not used to independence, they were sheep, and Lashona wanted nothing to do with that. She was a lioness, beast of the wild. Strong, fast, untameable. However, even a lioness is helpless when the universe conspires against her, as Lashona was to find out soon enough. Death, even for one with the sass, was inevitable.

Later, Lashona would ponder what led to these events. Was it the ice cream? Perhaps if she had visited the bank before the ice cream parlor, none of it would've happened. Perhaps she shouldn't have fought with the rude man? Nah, he was full of nonsense. Lashona would never have any of it.

Approximately between five and ten minutes before her destined death, Lashona had her last encounter with a human being. Or at least what remained of a human being. The man she bumped into, accidentally dropping her cone of ice cream onto his expensive polished shoes, was a shell of a man. Scum, the worst remains of his humanity bearing his sins. One who had sold his soul to the devil. Lashona ran into a lawyer.

The two stood there after impact, staring at his heavily polished black shoe now covered with contrasting vanilla. Immediately, Lashona’s maternal instincts kicked in.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Lashona cried as she fanned herself with both hands, kneeling down to look at the ‘poor’ man’s shoe. She flicked the ice cream off and stretched the hem of her brown shirt to clean the shoe off, wiping the dairy product and smearing the sticky fluid over polish.

The man snapped to his senses and jerked his foot back, sneering. “What’s your problem lady? Can’t you see I’m in a hurry? Don’t you know who I am?”

Confused, Lashona stood up on her feet, her diva senses tingling. That could only mean one thing…

“Oh, I see how it is. I see. How. It is.” Lashona placed a hand on her wide hip, eyeing the well-dressed man. “You’re one of those rich male types that like pushing everyone around because the size of his wallet dwarfs whatever else hides in those tight pockets of yours. Feeling inadequate so you have to throw your name around? Got one of them business cards to shove in my face?”

“Lady!” the man barked and stepped back, bringing his chrome briefcase in front of him to subconsciously shield himself from Lashona’s verbal assault. “What barn were you raised in, you brute?! I will end you if you do not get out of my way! I have connections! I have assets! I will end you in court! Do you know who I am!?”

“Uh uh!” Lashona snapped her fingers with one hand on her hip, then shaking it for further emphasis with her diva aura. “Do I know who you are? Do I know who you are? Oh, I know who you are, I know who you are. You’re a weasel and a wimpy little dude who has to whine and complain when someone drops ice cream on his tiny widdle shoe.” Lashona scrunched her lips and frowned, mocking him with a baby face before returning to diva mode. “You’re a baby that needs to get spanked and grow up!”

“Oh! Oh!” the lawyer rebutted, opening his briefcase and allowing his aura of evil to radiate from within. Like all lawyers, the man was a lich who contained his soul within his briefcase to fuel his supernatural powers of court and law. Every bystander in the area, including the ones sitting in their cars idly (because who drives in New York? Traffic hardly moves), shuddered as the menacing, invisible miasma trickled past and brushed against their souls. Fearful of the powers that be, bystanders began to hurriedly walk past, wishing to avoid the oncoming confrontation.

“What are you gonna do?” Lashona leaned forward with her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. “Sue me?”

The lawyer cackled as he brought out his manila folder, lightning striking the tree behind. “Ha ha! YES! YES!” he laughed as he brought out the order to court he had, conveniently signed by the benefactor of his power. Lashona’s skin crawled as he began to reach out toward her, the court order mysteriously holding her name on it…

Lashona wasn't having it. As afraid as she might’ve been, she found courage within her inner diva. No, she found sass.

“OH HELL NO!” Lashona screamed as she swung her palm out, giving the lawyer the bitch slap he surely deserved.

And that’s when everything went to hell.

There are many forces present in the world, metaphysical powers that manipulate and allow events to unfold in a particular fashion. Many of these powers, such as magic, exist beyond mortal comprehension. Unfortunately, some of these powers were never meant to mingle. Unfortunately still, Lashona had done the unthinkable.

The power of sass within Lashona, channeling through her bitch slap of the century, and the pure evil radiating from the lawyer were too much for the earthly dimension. The result was an inter-dimensional rip in space-time and a blinding explosion.

Lashona had no time to think, no time to feel. She merely ceased to be.

The man blinked as he stared at the sight before him. A smoldering crater was all that remained of his confrontation with Lashona. Part of him wondered what had saved him from the same fate, until he looked down. His briefcase, held in front of him as a shield, was nothing but a few metal scraps on the ground. His parasitic energy began to leave his body as his soul descended into hell, bringing him to his knees.

Panting, the former lawyer contemplated his life. All the innocent teenagers caught smoking weed that he managed to send to prison for grand theft auto… Was this karma? “At lea-at least I die… with dignity.”


The smoldering tree behind him, burning from the lightning strike, finally gave in to its own weight and toppled over the lawyer, ending him.

Lashona dreamed. She dreamed of darkness, of oblivion, the netherworld that souls go to when neither Heaven nor Hell can handle their sass. She floated in the river Styx, passed by Elysium, drifted around a few circles of Hell in her slumber, floated by the Pearly Gates for awhile, and even made her way in and out of the Matrix. She traveled and traveled, comatose, as something within her guided the way. A power had awoken inside of her, guiding her to a world that needed her, a world that needed sass.

The years passed by without Lashona’s knowledge, comfortable and happy in her dreams. She dreamed of her boys finishing college, dreamed of the bills she didn't have to pay anymore, dreamed of the taxi drivers that actually stop for the polite women of New York City and didn't overcharge you by driving in the heaviest traffic possible while talking in a fake Boston accent. It could happen, she reasoned. It could happen…

In the first time in centuries, Lashona’s eyelids fluttered. Bodily sensations slowly returned as she came to, her vitality trickling back inside her vessel. She clenched and unclenched her fists, feeling tickling grass underneath her. Clean, fresh wind whistled past as she flared her nostrils, taking in the healthy air. Everything smelled like… daisies. Nature.

Naaaaaaaaatuuuuuuuuuurrrrreee!!! Lashona’s eyes shot open as a weight pushed down on her stomach. She tried to shoot up, but her body’s circulation was still sluggish and forced her to slow down. Her vision swam, full of green and various pastel colors, eliciting a humbled groan.

“Da--in-” a voice mumbled in the distance, echoing inside Lashona’s mind. Lashona shook her head, clearing her vision and her hearing. She reopened her eyes and looked down on her lap, noticing a strange white noodle resting upright on her stomach. Her eyes traced it upward to a strange, marshmallow body and a head. A head with a stylish purple mane. A mane belonging to a familiar equine creature. A pony.

“Darling?” Rarity asked, concerned for the strange creature that had appeared in a rogue explosion near her gem hunting site. As strange and alien as the creature was, her instincts told her it was safe. Something about the creature… called to her. “Are you alright, darling?”

Lashona stared at the pony, her mind trying to make sense of things. Her hands whipped forward and latched onto the pony’s cheeks, pulling Rarity’s face close up with Lashona’s. Lashona gawked at Rarity, examining her face’s every feature.

“Oh. My. God,” Lashona gasped as she released Rarity from her death grip. “Long eyelashes, perfect English, glamour, and a face of a horse… Oh my god, I just met Sarah Jessica Parker.”