All his days he scuffled about in the dark tunnels of the city of the sorcerers, snuffling with his trunk, and sucking up all the litter the sorcerers left behind – all things he loved to eat. And this made him very useful, since his appetite saved everybody the bother of ever having to clean up what they spilled. Little Tweek was always right there, ready with his hungry trunk.
And so he lived.
But Tweek had a terrible, terrible secret. And he was in terror that anybody should find ever it out.
Tweek was squeamish.
And squeamish was a terrible thing for a demon to be, for demons exist to only cause torment and misery. But, even though he was a demon, Tweek hated to see anybody get hurt. And this made him rather useless as a demon.
He never attended any of the great festivals in the city, when they were held in the huge mouth of the old volcano, where the empress had her temples built. Tweek avoided the festivals altogether.
It was there, at those festivals that the sorcerers made great spectacles of torment and torture. And the throngs who lived in the city were vastly entertained by the endless cries of their victims.
But not Tweek. He couldn’t stand any of that. When festival time came, he hid in the dark tunnels deep below the city, and he buried his head in the dirt to try to block out all the terrible sounds from above.
His squeamishness made him very susceptible to all sorts of infirmities, and finally he caught a very bad infection.
Tweek had come down with a very bad case of the `good’. And this was very bad for him, of course, because sorcerers can smell goodness, and they hate it. Nothing will enrage a sorcerer faster than a whiff of decency. And a sorcerer will punish anything good with a swiftness most appalling.
How it was that little Tweek came to be infected with this touch of goodness in this dark and terrible place nobody can possibly guess, for there was no goodness to be found anywhere in the city of the sorcerers. Perhaps he ate something that agreed with him, who knows? But, however it happened, it happened.
Now I must be quick to tell you that, even though little Tweek was a `good’ demon, as far as demons go, he was still a demon, and certainly not the kind of critter you’d ever, ever want to invite to your house.
He loved to play pranks, so long as no one ever caught him, and he liked to break things, just to hear them smash and shatter. Tweek delighted in making messes, and the sloppier the messes he made, the happier he was. If he came upon something that was neat and orderly, you can be sure that he’d turn it into a shambles in no time at all.
He’d sneak into your closet, when you weren’t around, and tear up all your clothes. Then he’d go into your dresser, and eat all your socks. He’d happily tear all the pages right out of your books, and then shred them in the air like confetti, and then after that, he’d go into your kitchen and break every plate and cup and glass, and then, maybe, he’d turn on the stove and blow out the pilot light, just to see what would happen.