I am in league with the Dark Prince himself! All hail Satan!!

Rating: PG
Quality: (Quality: Unrated)

No, you're not losing it, I really did say that I have struck an alliance with Old Scratch! While I was innocently walking about my backyard, fidgeting with various shrubbery there contained, I tragically lost my life in a horrible accident involving a slippery patch of ground and a poorly placed garden gnome.

Moments later I was whisked away from my body on the back of a flaming hound and soon discovered that everything Christians had been telling me for years was true! By the time I realized that I was dead, I had found myself in Hell! I was stripped down (my clothes were apparently part of my soul... go figure) and taken to a waiting room. At first glance, it didn't seem so bad. Soon, however, I realized that the chairs were very hard, a Garth Brooks song was playing over the intercom, and all of the magazines were decade-old copies of Family Circle! The horror! A lesser daemon manning the desk saw me milling around and told me to take a number. I grabbed one off the desk, and what do you know... 666! Is that ironic or what?

After what seemed like an eternity, my number was finally called. I sauntered into a decidedly cramped office with some rather tacky art prints on the walls. Behind the art-deco desk sat Beelzebub in the flesh! He didn't look much different than I had always imagined: poor skin, black, greasy hair, cheap polyester suit. I took a sit and asked him if he had any water, 'cause I was parched! He chuckled, as if it were a joke, and gave me a glass of sand.

Satan: I've been waiting quite some time for you.
Me: Really? That's neat. Say, this sand looks mighty tasty, but-
Satan: Shut up.
Me: Okey-dokey.
Satan: I'm going to cut right to the chase here. I need a new patsy. A proxy, if you will. Someone I can control... up there... from down here. Marilyn Manson isn't working out like I had hoped, so I'm in kind of a tough spot.
Me: Manson's first CD kicked ass!
Satan: Jesus... are you even paying attention?
Me: ''I had a little monkey, I sent him to the country...''
Satan: SHUT UP!! I'm trying to offer you the chance of an afterlifetime and you're spouting Marilyn Manson lyrics! Would you rather suffer for eons, because I can accommodate your wishes like that! *snaps fingers*
Me: Oh... sorry. I did a lot of drugs and stuff when I was a kid, so I can't really pay attention that good.
Satan: That's ok. I didn't mean to yell. Anyway, this is the plan, and please try to listen. I will loan you a body and send you back to Earth. All you need to do is spread evil across the land! Make sure you target little children, because they're the easiest to manipulate. Play them heavy metal music, get them to do drugs, set up wild orgies, and make damn sure that they kill themselves!
Me: Can I be a six foot tall Hungarian woman?
Satan: Huh?
Me: The body. I want to have the body of a six foot tall Hungarian woman.
Satan: I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of this office.

So anyway, that's how everything went down. I'm back, I'm bad, and I'm coming for your children and your children's children! Lock your doors and close your windows! Call Pat Robertson, write Jerry Falwell, say your prayers, give ten percent of your annual income to the church, because I'm out there! I'm looking for you! I'm six foot tall, beautiful, I have long, luxurious hair, and I'm ready to corrupt!!

Go ahead... sin! You know you want to.


Submitted by 32


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