Satan’s bedroom door was opened just a crack, so Maxwell could hear the Evil One coughing- the deep, hacking sounds of the dedicated smoker. “Come in, Max! Come in!” Shouted Satan in between expectorations. Maxwell pushed the door open with his muzzle and made his way into the room. It was a mess. On the floor was scattered an arrangement of spent tissues, beer cans, underwear, half-eaten sandwiches and cigarette butts. Roaches scurried about, feasting on their good fortune.
“Tell me, Max. How goes it with the latest family? I want a full report, and don’t be a pompous windbag about it.”