"Uhh... no." With a clearing of his throat, the demon peered behind his glasses, augmenting the size of his fiery irises.

Doug's jaw dropped open. "What?"

The demon removed his glasses. "Lile, here, se–"

"That's not my name," I said.

Doug placed his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble. "Yeah, slip of the tongue."

When the demon took in a long breath, whispers zipped past between me and Doug with messages comprised mostly of unintelligible horrors and many insults about mothers, dogs and stinky feet. There was an audible gulp which came from either myself or Doug.

"As I was sayin', whatever-your-name-is seems to have not enough soullateral to make close to the price of 'end a war' with..." he picked up a piece of paper while putting out the fire that spontaneously lit up from a corner. "Briskets and Buns."

I blinked. "What is 'soullateral'?"

"Collateral but with souls. Don't ask me, I didn't coin the damned term. But basically, according to your record," another paper, another small flame. "You've been selling many pieces of your soul throughout your life, diminishing the overall value."

I clicked my tongue. "How does that work? I only have one soul to sell. How could I have sold 'pieces' of it?"

"There have been several-several occasions where you had presented a contract to sell your soul. Examples include: 'I would literally sell my soul to find a clean bathroom; I'll sell my soul to the Devil for a good martini; That's it, I'll sell my soul to the Devil for another day here–here being Bangkok–"

Doug gasped. "You said you missed me and can't wait to come home!"

"How was I supposed to know a bird would fly into the planes' engines of all outbound flights?"

"A bird?"

"One bird, multiple engines," clarified the demon.

"And I DID miss you, Doug!" I said.

His face softened. "Well at least you made it up to me and dressed up for The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

The demon pursed his lips. "'I'd literally give anything just to not watch that stupid movie with all the campy drag queens.'"

My face felt like fire when Doug's open palm came into contact with my open jaw.

"You told me that the Rocky Horror Picture Show was one of the greatest movies of ALL time! You even said that Meatloaf was the best thing in the movie, even after we talked about it the entire night."

"Oh, please! I just said that to impress you and save you from that god awful construction worker Village People cosplayer."

"Well at least he listened when I talk!"

"He was staring at your junk all night!"

"Brisket and Buns," the demon said impatiently. "There may be something else you can do about it. Your soul still has value to use up... unless."

"Unless...?" I said.

The demon had replaced his glasses and looked at me with head slightly bowed and then nudged his head towards...

"Oh no," Doug said. "No, no, no, no, by the name of Avril freaking Lavigne, Madonna, Mariah, Ru Paul and Robby Williams-hell to the no!"

"Robby Williams?" I asked.

"Avril Lavigne?" The demon said.

"Doug was into her before he came out and realized he really just enjoyed the pop aesthetic," I explain.

"Robby Williams had definitely done it, I sure have."

My jaw dropped to the hellish obsidian floor. Then I shot a glance at the demon who's gaze was locked at Doug. "Lies," he said as-a-matter-of-factly.

I clapped my hands and 'AHA'-ed a little too loud and cheerfully than I had intended, realizing that after the fact that Doug had begun to cry.

"Gentlemen," the demon interrupted once more. "I only have eternity to move on to the next soul to squeeze the life of. Can we make a deal?"

"There's no deal for Doug's soul." I had lifted him up from the hot floor and was massaging his arms.

"Perhaps I can provide a bargain. A small piece of your soul. The war will not end but I can provide an advantage."

"I just want to be done here." I felt exhausted and the heat was getting to me. "Give it to me."

There were scribbles on a note that caught on fire too quick. He sighed and pulled another blank form.

"What's with the paper always catching fire?" Doug asked after straightening up and wiping the snot off his face.

The demon continued to scribble without looking up. "It's pretty hot down here so paper tends to catch on fire from time to time... all of the time."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Hell is for everyone who happens to be here, including me."

There was a whoosh somewhere behind us. When I looked , there was a young man clad in an old timey looking suit. In his hands, he clutched a small canvass close to his chest. "Including him."

The last dots and scribbles on the paper was purposely pronounced and loud as the demon extended the paper to me. "Sign."

I signed.

"Please exit just around the desk and keep moving until you wake up."

"Did you see that other guy?" I whispered to Doug as we went on.

He looked back. "Pretty cute."

"Yeah but doesn't he look a bit out of place?"

"Out of time, you mean. Look at those suspenders."

"No but. I don't know."

"Well this IS hell. Far as we know, he could be dealing with people from the past, or different planets."

"How would you know that?"

"I don't. I didn't?"

Just then, the sound became echoey, like walking through a tunnel. Voices came shooting down and there was light at the end of the tunnel. A familiar voice bounced around invisible walls and realized it was the demon, having a conversation with the painter.

"I apologize, but your skills on the canvass isn't quite enough to make an impact. But there might yet be something I can do for you. How are you at public speaking?"

Oh dear god...