How I became Satan (with a little Beezlebub on the side)




"Satan!" I shouted at a classmate for the umpteenth time that day. I waggled my fingers in the appropriate manner to drive home the point. You see, for the past few months I had taken on the role of Satan. My very religious but very accomodating buddy Mark had agreed to do duty as Mephistopholes, and we had split responsibility for Beezelbub.(to be continued shortly. Satan has to cut the lawn before Satan's passive-aggressive wife does it and proceeds to fume for the rest of the evening).

 

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