Jerry was sitting on his favorite chair, reading the book of Job. Again. He had lost his job almost two months ago and it looked like he wouldn’t have a house for much longer, and reading from the Bible gave him hope.



Presently, Jerry heard a knock on his door. When he answered it, he saw a FedEx truck turning left off his driveway, and in front of his door was a sizeable package. It was marked Deliverance From Evil. Jerry’s heart nearly stopped. He had been praying for this every night for as long as he could remember, but he never thought it would come in the form of a package. Jerry brought the box inside. He was about to open it, but he then realized that he was being too hasty. Jerry knelt and thanked God, and prayed that a similar gift might be bestowed upon his now-grown daughter. Jerry got out a knife, and with trembling hands cut the tape that held the box closed. This was it. This was going to be the single most important event in his life. Jerry opened the box slowly, simultaneously nervous and exited about the contents of the box. As soon as the box was completely opened, a little red Demon popped out of the box, and before Jerry could utter a sound the Demon grabbed the very knife Jerry had used to open the box and stabbed Jerry. Jerry made a sort of weak gurgling sound. He had never felt so much pain in his life. The Demon had pulled out Jerry’s liver and was doing a little dance. Just before Jerry lost consciousness, the Demon ate his liver in a single bite and promptly vanished.



The Demon was walking through the halls of Hell. The high, arched, stone ceilings seemed to move in the flickering light cast by the fire. It was still impressive even after six thousand years. Absorbed in his own thoughts of glee at a successful trip aboveground, The Demon arrived in the throne room before he knew it. His Master was seated upon a simple throne cut from the same stone that made up the rest of the room. The Demon knelt before his Master. In all his years of service the Demon had never gotten a good look at the Master. The way the flickering firelight played tricks with the shadows made sure of that. You could see the Master's minions though. They looked like deformed babies, and with their grotesque misshapen heads, humped backs, and rotting wings they made a mockery of the Cherubim. They were eternally flying, if you can call it that, around the room with a lopsided sort of stumbling motion. They served no purpose as far as the Demon could tell, but they sure made an impression. “Rise,” Came the deep, booming voice, “How did your mission fare?” “He fell for it, same as they always do.” Said the Demon, “This one even prayed before I de-livered him.”