fine. As I said earlier, you’ll never be alone again.”
Back in the netherworld…
“WHAT?! I gave you a simple job: retrieve a soul that was destined to come to me. How could you make a hash of that? I could have sent a junior demon minion and it would have done a better job than you!” Satan’s face was turning a horrible shade of red.
Lucifer backed away slowly, trying to think of someone to pin the blame on. “It was that blasted Gabriel. I had everything well in hand and then he showed up. Then Michael showed his helmeted head, swinging his sword around like usual. I tell you, I feared for my life. Then he said some unpleasant things about you, and, well, I couldn’t let those pass unchallenged,” Lucifer lied with everything in him.
Satan stopped. “What did he say about me?”
Lucifer saw his opening. “Oh, I hate to repeat them. Foul comments indeed! But let me see if I can remember a few of the choicer ones.”
“I hate angels,” Satan grumbled.
About the author:
T. A. Staver lives in IL with his wonderful wife, evil cat, and whichever of his children happen to be home at the time.