"Hello, Satan? Yes, I'd like to book a table?"
"At the moment, for one, but you may want to keep a few chairs handy, I think I might be joined by some friends."
"Yeah. Ok. I'd like it to be in the non-smoking section, please."
"Oh. There isn't a non-smoking section. Alright. Hmmm. Could it be in a quiet, corner? Maybe something a little intimate and cozy?"
"Yes, as far away from the screaming and fiery pits as possible would be nice. Thanks."
"Okay. See you then!"
Yes the Jehovah's Witnesses were back. Don't worry. I dispatched them quickly. No, not under the loose boards of my porch.
The sad thing is, I don't think I've seen the last of her. I'm getting the feeling she's attached herself like a pit bull to my ass. Like I'm some pet project of hers. I'll fix her. Even if I have to turn the hose on her.
Damn, I wish I had those flying monkeys.
From the pit (of despair)
1 day ago