"I can't do it," you say, handing the pen back. "I'm just not comfortable making a literal deal with the devil, you understand."
He was scowling, his eyes alive with fire. "Oh, I understand all right. You're greedy and selfish, and you think you can just bullshit your way into eternal bliss by rejecting who you are."
"That's harsh."
"Have a wonderful, short, life," the demon says, and in a flash you find yourself in your bed, curtains draw, alarm blaring.
Weirdest fuckin dream of my life, you thought, wiping the sleep from your eyes, trying your best to ignore the faint scent of brimstone that lingered in the air.
Two weeks go by without any incidence, and you successfully push the encounter out of your mind. And then one otherwise normal workday, you're called into the boss's office.
"I'm what?" you gasp, blindsided by this news.
"Fired. And you should be lucky that's all we're doing. Do you know how many reports HR gets about you?" The boss flips her computer around, revealing a hefty list of complaints, all directed towards you. "Not only do you not get any work done, you spend all your time ogling you coworkers - men and women alike!"
"I- Let me see that!" you say, and grab computer. You hated to admit it, but these reports were all really, dreadfully accurate. Brenda caught you drooling over rear, Thomas complained about you feeling up his biceps, and Lydia protested your theft of her work shoes. Damn, were you really this obvious?
The boss flips the screen back around to her, frowning. "You understand why we have to let you go now, right? And, don't think you're getting any sort of severance, either. You've lost the right to that." You open your mouth to complain, but she shuts you off. "Or, would you rather we let these cases go public? Any judge in the country will get you registered as a sex offender just by glancing at these reports."
You slump in your chair. "Can I at least have a box to gather my things?"
An hour later, you were parked at a small coffee shop a few blocks down, nursing an ice tea and trying to gather your thoughts. Where would you go from here? You'd never get a reference from your old place, your marketable skills had long since gone rusty, and you didn't exactly have enough money to live the rest of your life on.
Moping, you stare out into the shop. The waitresses here were your favorite part of this place. It was run by a young lady, fresh out of college with a business degree, and she wasn't shy about only hiring her friends. And as luck would have it, she had some smoking friends.
"Ana-Marie," you mumbled, staring at the name tag of the bright looking girl who was helping a table across the room. She bent down to hand the group their drinks, giving you a fine look at her rear assets. Her short skirt didn't hide anything. You felt warm...
Oddly warm. Was there something wrong with this tea? Your heart begins to beat faster, but despite the panic rising in your throat you find yourself unable to avert your eyes, forced to watch Ana-Marie's fine ass bounce as she stood back up, her cheeks wiggling as she began to walk away. Your insides twisted, and suddenly you caught a massive whiff of brimstone.
The encounter rushed back to you, as everything went dark.
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