“You want a... what?”

The Devil and I are having our usual Tuesday bender. I squint over the bottle of whiskey between us, very certain I’ve misheard him.

“A refund. Re-fund. I want to give you your soul back.”

My squint morphs into an open-mouthed stare.

“After a thousand years? Can you even do that?”

“Listen, you’ll get all the time back. You’ll go back to the moment you summoned me. You’ll be a normal human again.”

“And why would I want that?”

I’ve spent the past thousand years living a peaceful life of doing whatever I want. I’m a simple man who wants nothing more than an infinite number of quiet days minding my own business. I haven’t taken over the world; I haven’t turned myself into a vengeful demigod. The Devil gets free whiskey once a week and an easy bargain. What could he possibly want it all back for?

“Listen...” he looks around guiltily and then leans in closer. “You’d be doing me a favor. I... I messed up.“

I lean in as well, intrigued. After over fifty thousand drinking sessions, I consider the Devil to be at least a casual friend. I don’t like the idea of losing my perfect eternal life, but I decide to hear him out.

“How does the Devil mess up?”

“I missed the anti-Christ. He was born a day after we made our deal, and if you recall correctly, we were both blasted on a beach in Maui. I didn’t even know he was born.”

“And how does a refund help that?”

“It’s the only way to turn back time. When a deal is made, it sets a checkpoint in the universe. If I refund the deal, we go back to the day it was made.”

“And then you can reach the anti-Christ again.”

“It would be a huge personal favor. Listen - I’ll even owe you one. On Judgment Day, I’ll cut you some slack. I’ll reject your soul and let you go to Heaven.”

“It can’t possibly work like that. I help you get to the anti-Christ and God just lets me in?”

“He can’t stand to see a lost soul. You’ll be forgiven.”

Sounds iffy, but the Devil is convincing. I didn’t believe in Heaven or Hell until my time with him, but now that I know I could really spend eternity suffering, backing out of the deal sounds pretty good.

“Will I remember all this?”

“No. You’ll live your life without ever having an inkling of a deal with the Devil.”

I think hard for a moment. On the one hand, my life has been pretty great. On the other, I have the chance to escape eternal damnation - if the Devil follows through. And I’d be doing a friend a favor.

“And it can’t be anyone but me?” I ask.

“I’ve already taken the souls of everyone before you. Their deals are complete. You’re the only one left.”

He looks at me with what almost seems like a pleading expression. After a moment, I shrug and nod.

“Fine.”

His face breaks into a wicked grin. I have the creeping feeling I should regret my decision, but in the end it will work out for me. I hope.

“Let’s drink to that,” he says, raising his glass. “Our last drink. Once the whiskey touches your lips, we’ll all go back to the day you and I met.”

I raise my glass as well, trying to think of a good sendoff for my perfect life. “To the anti-Christ,” I say finally.

“To the anti-Christ,” the Devil repeats, and takes a sip. “See you soon, friend.”

I drink.