Quoted By:
You never thought you’d admit it, but you’re almost glad <span class="mu-r">RED’S</span> sharing your headspace–now if only you could distract Trier long enough to have one of those ‘Thoughtversaitions’--
<span class="mu-b">”unitSss 228 THrRougH 301: RECAlibrATE SeCCCtOR 8 SwEEP refEReNCINg…”</span>
Oh! Perfect! <span class="mu-r">RED</span>, you begin as you subconsciously turn away from your gracious host, what’s his take on this?
Something cackles from beneath your mind’s folds. <span class="mu-r">”My take? We hit the JACKPOT, pard!”</span>
You run your hand across the cold, slick surface of your tank. Yea, he’s gonna have to explain THAT one…
<span class="mu-r">”What’s there to explain? You heard him, didn’t ya?”</span> The demon snickers to himself as if remembering an old joke, <span class="mu-r">”Poor bastard needs us to WANT to hand over the goods! We’ve got him right where we want ‘em!”</span>
Sure, you shrug, but what exactly <span class="mu-i">ARE</span> the ‘goods’ anyways? Your soul? Blood? <span class="mu-i">Mojo?</span>
<span class="mu-r">”Soul, if I had ta’ guess…”</span> The Archdevil replies, prompting a pang of worry in your gut! <span class="mu-r">”But don’t worry, kid–nothin’s gonna happen to your soul… not if I have anything ta’ say about it!”</span>
You feel better already, you reply with a Rezzie-worthy eyeroll. So that ‘impurity’ crap–
<span class="mu-r">”Think of it this way, amigo:” RED</span> interjects as you feel a disembodied claw clasp your shoulder, <span class="mu-r">”Say yer’ takin’ your ladyfriend to the steakhouse for her birthday… you orderin’ skirt steak… or <span class="mu-i">VEAL?</span>”</span>
… Is… is that a euphemism, or…?
<span class="mu-r">”It’s a question, kid–a rhetorical one!”</span> He answers as Trier drifts away to yell at the wall. <span class="mu-r">”Guys like us? We like our meat JUICY!”</span>
You’re, uh… you don’t eat steak much, you reply as you force an apologetic laugh in for good measure. Why is veal superior again?
<span class="mu-r">”Whoof… we’re gonna have to get you some meat, friendo…”</span> The devil sighs, sympathy slipping into his voice! <span class="mu-r">”Nevermind that–point is, some folk’ll die before accepting anything less than perfection… and this Trier fella? He strikes me as a perfectionist!”</span>
But… is that normal? For humans, you mean? <span class="mu-r">RED</span> borrows your shoulders for a shrug.
<span class="mu-r">”Don’t take this the wrong way, Ant, but I’ve had plenty a time ta’ appraise your soul… AND that sweetheart Liz’, to be transparent-like…”</span>
Call it clingy, but you’re not a big fan of how liberally he talks about examining your ex’s soul…
<span class="mu-r">”And I gotta say, pard, HUMAN SOULS? Didn’t know they made ‘em that finger-lickin’ good!”</span> You try not to shudder as the sound of disembodied lips smack within your psyche. <span class="mu-r">”Deal’s a deal, course… an’ I don’t get high on my own supply… not during work hours, at least! HAR!”</span>
>CONTD.
