So there we were, in hell.
Burning programme’s nine to four – the perpetual thing is bogus cause there’s too many of us and they have to have shifts and besides they gotta cool the place down at least some hours else Satan gets all pissed off cause it’s too hot and he gets this nasty rash—but no one really feels anthing any more, souls have this really weird resemblance to bodies you know, like when all our soul-skin got fried, what more to feel with? Ain’t nothing humans can’t get used to, I always say. So anyway. Burning time over we’d go have a drink, my friend soul no 5 and I, that is, melting lava’s the only thing to drink actually, as long as you didn’t meet one of those water-smugling devils but those were hard to find and hey, no throat, no problem with drinking hot distructive liquids, I always say. So we’d just hang out, wondering if we knew each other in that place devils always talk about when new shipments are coming in, we never figure it out though, humans are never in much contact with their souls, I always say… Walking around, contemplating the rookies all screaming and stirring. No 5 sometimes remembers weird stuff like once he just burst “Demmed church this is not one bit like the way they put it; I never believed one word I didn’t” and I just nodded cause I never remember that much about life. We’re not allowed to sleep though and the worst thing is boredom; we sometimes play cards with the little devils when Satan’s away talking to God or something asking for more souls who knows–demmed fool, like we weren’t too many already—they say they invented them cards but no 5 always says us humans were way ahead of ‘em. I’m afraid no 5 is still aching and stuff when he burns cause he has so may memories left. I never tell him about it though. He tells stories of booz and women and that’s all mixed up cause none of us really know if we were men or women before but at least we laugh and the devils get all gelous and it’s fine. Fine as hell can be.
So, there we were when suddenly phone calls and we all knew stuff was going on cause phone only calls when God wants to move some rocker guy or I don’t know one of those twisted guys that are, like, evil and good at the same time, I don’t remember. So all these devils were just breathless to find out what was on. So Satan picks up and he’s all “Yeah.”, “Yeah.”, and he was getting redder and redder and all them little devils got all scared cause they figured it must be that rash again so they stoped all the burning. And Satan says this final “Yeah” and lets the phone down and goes “What the hell you go stopping the burning for, you wanna put me out of business?” and storms out to his, lava-pool or whatever.
Turns out Hades called to say he was extending his place coz there was this inflation of greeks and Satan had to move some of us christians some other place before this chick Lethe came around; just when he’d ended redecorating.
Poor Satan, I always say. Stuck down here with all us burnt out souls and idiot little annoying devils taking credit for stuff they didn’t do, with some ugly rash and now this Hades guy, some sort of rival of his comin’ and kickin‘im outta his home.