Congratulations on Your Faustian Bargain!

You’ll be sitting your lazy chair watching sports or some shit one night when the thought will wander into your brain. That will be enough for him and he’ll leap into your living room in a puff of smoke, standing there in his sweet leather jacket and kind of gay cape, stretching his fingers and licking his lips.

“Hellooooo?” he’ll say, waving away the smoke. You’ll look at him, baffled, but he’ll just keep smiling inscrutably. You’ll turn off the TV, gesturing around his body with the remote, before you really acknowledge his presence.

“Hello,” you’ll respond, standing up. You’ll wonder if you should put on pants for company for a split second before he jumps into the pitch.

“You,” he’ll say, making finger pistols at your now standing form while you look about the room, wondering if pants are conveniently available anywhere nearby, “look like the sort of discerning gentleman who wants it all. Am I right?”

You’ll look at him, perplexed. Perhaps he’s correct. Perhaps you do want it all.

“That’s what I thought,” he’ll say, straightening his tie. He’ll fluff out his coattails before he continues.

“That’s why I’m here today to offer you a once in a lifetime deal. For the low price of your immortal soul you can have that which your heart desires most deeply, no questions asked, no conditions assigned.”

You’ll think for a moment, and as you do so the Devil will conjure a contract from thin air in from of you. It will be made from what appears to be human skin, a strangely soft substance all things considered, and the writing on it will strongly resemble blood, although you won’t think that it’s human because of the rich color and consistency. You’ll be right; it’ll be kitten blood.

After a few minutes pondering you’ll suck on your lower lip and pick up the pen Beelzebub is holding out, putting your John Hancock on that there contract with only the slightest of hesitations. The devil will smile a pointy-toothed grin and nod at you.

“Please doing business with you.”

Then he’ll wink and disappear in a puff of smoke.

The following foursome with the Dixie Chicks will be a lot less interesting and more tear-filled than you’ll have expected, but in the end you’ll feel like you know a little bit more about some musicians who you once viewed as nothing more than sex objects. You won’t sure that it was worth the price of your soul, but it’ll still be something of a learning experience and a memory you’ll treasure for the rest of your ill-begotten existence in the pits of Hell.

Congratulations on Your Faustian Bargain!