The April 2024 solar eclipse from the Indianapolis Speedway

We proudly(?) present a chat log from the afternoon of 2024 April 08, recently disclosed.

Hey, I need your help.

When the eclipse started, three demons crawled their way out of the basement!

Sorry, the demons three, or more like pretentious weirdos three.

They probably came through the crack in the foundation that formed during the earthquake, the other day.

Anyway, they say that I must answer three riddles to determine the fate of humanity.

Again, sorry: their riddles three. I can feel a headache coming on, if this keeps up…

If I have any friends, they say as if they have any, then I can ask one of them for help with the riddles.

I chose you. 🤷

I hope that you get these. Maybe eclipses work like New Year’s Eve, where everybody calls everyone else and clogs up the network.

This seems important, though, what with the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, and all.

Whatever…

Riddle #1: Why doth thine train leaveth yon station at 1:58?

Wait, hold on. I don’t need help with that. But I need to know why these ancient demons tell riddles about industrial technology that end in puns. 🚂

Also, that grammar sounds wrong, but I guess that they must know what they want to say.

Huh. They find it funny to make humans say “two-to-two,” they say. 🙄

Riddle #2: Would that I could explain what one might describe as black and white and red all over?

Sorry, they’ve looked over my shoulder to correct my spelling. R-E-A-D. Seriously?

Yeah, I got that one right, too, which no doubt comes as a no news to you, either, with their addendum. 📰

I might need to call them on that convoluted grammar, though. I wouldn’t call that riddle a question.

Do you still even check this chat? No time for that, now, I guess.

Riddle #3, which they call the big one.

Oh, come on, the pockets thing? They don’t even wear pants! They can’t have anything in pockets that they don’t have.

Also, that comes from a book, which if they read it, they’d know why it doesn’t work as a riddle.

Oh, well.

Apparently, I survived the gauntlet of riddles.

Humanity will continue to thrive…to the limited extent that it has. 🥳

I think the Demon One—

Gah, now they have me doing it.

I think that the one demon might cry. He seemed to look forward to the potential extermination or dominion or whatever they had as a plan.

Well, the tears made me feel pretty sorry for them, not to mention the pathetic riddles, so I told them the riddle about going to the dentist at tooth-hurty. 🦷

They hadn’t heard that one before, not surprising with their poor oral hygiene.

I’ll need to patch the wall that one’s spit-take burned through, which might explain the poor oral hygiene.

Apparently, they might name me Potentate of Perdition for my riddle mastery, if I ever want a career-change.

They originally called the position “King of Hell,” but I pointed out that the underworld needs to become more inclusive if they want to keep pace, these days.

They didn’t understand what I meant, so I put it into terms that they could understand.

I went with the riddle about the doctor who can’t operate on their child, even though the child’s husband died in a car crash.

That, they understood, implausible as it seems.

Whew, they finally left. I assume that they won’t get far without pants (or eclipse glasses), plus they stole a bag of my favorite chips “for the road.”

What jerks.

I hate eclipses so much.

Every single time, something like this happens.

And I always have to clean up after some mystical dingbats or other.

They all act like I have nothing better to do.

Do I get to go out and enjoy the eclipse? No way…

Instead, I get mooned by pun-loving demons.

Farewell to…I want to say Al Pacino, Male-Coded, and Draggin’ Nutso, maybe? I dunno. Good riddance, at least.

Seriously, eclipses annoy me so much.

Do you remember that one eclipse when I had to carve out the heart of a close friend to save humanity or Taco Tuesday or whatever they got on about? 🫀

Scrubbing up the aftermath seriously derailed my day. If you hadn’t shown up to help…

Oh, right!

OK, having thought that through, now I can see why you haven’t replied to any of these texts…

Yeah, my bad. Although bleeding all over my carpet didn’t exactly rate as one of your finest moments, either, honestly.

I suppose that you didn’t exactly come over to help clean up on that one…

That reminds me. I should go leave some flowers on your grave. 💐 🪦

I planned to create this little story as only a single social media post—or quick e-mail to friends, which I hadn’t decided—announcing my frustration at annoying demons wasting my time during the eclipse. I figured that would get a quick laugh from a dozen or so words, something like “ugh, I hate dealing with riddling demons during every eclipse,” and then everyone could move on. But as I chose my words, I wanted to include the sad excuses for riddles, and then I had the idea of a one-sided chat, at which point the story mostly felt like it wrote itself.

For the record, I saw no damage from last week’s earthquake in the New York area, and the eclipse down here only hit around 90% of totality, in case you thought that any of this actually happened to me.

Oh, and I intended the (mangled) demons’ names near the end to loosely reference to Alichino, Malacoda, and Draghignazzo from Dante’s Inferno. They guard the Fifth Bolgia of the Eighth Circle of Hell, Malebolge, as members of the Malebranche or Evil Claws, and present themselves as significantly less addled and childish, although Dante did have the twelve demons communicate across long distance with genuine fart sounds—a combination of natural and simulated—so maybe I classed them up, somehow? Gustave Doré definitely drew them without pants, though.

Credits: The header image is 2024 Total Solar Eclipse by NASA/Joel Kowsky, placed in the public domain by NASA policy.