“Three thousands souls, Barry. Three thousand.”
“That doesn’t sound like too much, during the dark ages we were doing ten thousand, easy.”
“No, not per day. Three thousand per hour. Fuck the hand basket, these people are going to hell in a Goddamned jumbojet.”
Sweet Mephistopheles, really?”
“Really, bud. We’re not ready for this kind of work flow. People are falling through the cracks. Just yesterdaysome evil bastard was accidentally processed incorrectly.”
“Oh yeah?”
“He was set to serve four eternities in the ball-branding room, two in the Justin Beiber concert simulator and four more doing his taxes.”
“Holy Hell, Craig, what in Lucifer’s evil-earth did he do?”
“Some CEO of a fuel company or something. Destroyed, like, forty species in his lifetime with spills and such.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, the guy then had the audacity to apologize and claim they were doing all they could, blah blah.”
“Sounds like a good candidate.”
“Right? Lucifer’s been pining for his arrival for the last twenty years. He was excited, and you know about Lucifer…”
“Not much excites him.”
“Exactly.”
“So what happened?”
“Well he died, painfully I might add. Hit by a truck after his car broke down on the freeway. Kind of ironic actually.”
“How so?”
“It was a BP tanker, the company he worked for.”
“Oh my Satan, that’s rich.”
“Right? Took him three or four days to die, was paralyzed and everything. Spent his last three days of life drooling and shitting himself.”
“Stuff like that keeps me going, ya know?”
“Yeah, on the bad days I just remind myself about AIDS and the Bubonic Plague.”
“Bubonic Plague, damn shame that ended.”
“Yeah, yeah. So anyway, the dude dies. Lucifer’s all ready for some fun—”
“Yeah…”
“—shows up to heaven, ol’ High and Mighty says, ‘nope.’ And shoots him down here”
“Right…”
“And Brian—”
“Fuckin’ Brian.”
“—fuckin’ Brian. He sees the guy and mistakes him for a Catholic drug addict.”
“Oh Lucifer almighty, no way.”
Way. Tells him he qualifies for fuckin’ purgatory and sends him on his way to redemption.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was.”
“And what did Lucifer do?”
“You should have seen it. I haven’t seen Lucifer that angry since Osama Bin Laden converted to Christianity.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. He didn’t yell or scream. Just straight up eviscerated Brian. Bowels and everything strewn about the floors of Hell.”
“Is that three?”
Five times, Barry. Brian’s been eviscerated five times just this millennium. I swear to Lucifer man, he’s a walking, talking fuckup.”
“How is he still around anyway?”
“Tenure man.”
“Fuckin’ tenure.”
“Fuckin’ tenure indeed. The Demon needs to be fired.”
“Literally.”
“Shit, I gotta get back to it. Had a bus full of convicts drive off a cliff a few hours ago, ol’ High and Mighty should be finishing up with them now.”
“Nice man, how’d you score a job like that?”
“Lucifer liked how I handled the whole Jim Jones thing so I get the cush jobs when they come in. Anyway, lunch today?”
“You’re buyin’.”
“Deal.”