[ WP ] A man travels to `` the Crossroads '' in an attempt to sell his soul to the Devil .

Robert stepped out of South Wimbledon station and onto the crossroads. It was quarter past eleven on a Monday. There had been much debate in his head as to when he should arrive, the devil's business hours are not available on google. Did it even matter? Surely the devil was a ubiquitous being? Or was he just a man with a schedule like everybody else? What if he was in a meeting? Robert would just have to wait. The location too, was not something that the former network engineer was confident in. He was making the assumption that he could just turn up at any crossroads in the country, and this one was only a couple of stops on the Northern line. Plus there was that new Tesco Express if he got hungry waiting for the devil. Robert was unassuming, mid-thirties with glasses. He looked like a network engineer, employment status notwithstanding. In his left hand he carried a briefcase that he had fished out of the attic the day before, it had belonged to his father, a much more successful man than Robert. In it was a rather poor attempt at a contract he had drawn up on OpenOffice. It stated, in rather clumsy legal terms, that Mr. Robert Johnson esq, would sell his soul to the devil in exchange for success in all areas of his life, with great emphasis on his romantic life, which at current consisted of one girlfriend he had had for a day in primary school and a disturbingly well organised external hard drive of HD porn. 
 
 Robert leant against the wall of the station. He wanted to look cool when the devil showed up. After several minutes of looking at his phone, Robert looked around, trying to spot the devil from afar. How would he appear? In a puff of red smoke? Was he one of the people around him? The station attendant perhaps? He did n't look like the devil. But then how would he know? Robert was deep in thought, weighing up the probability of the devil working in the tesco express when he was approached by a man who was talking on the phone. 
 
 `` Yeah look, I do n't care what his agent says tell him Mission Impossible Five will go ahead with or without him.'' 
 
 Robert turned around and looked at the man. He was a young man, wearing a cheap grey suit. His hair was jet black and he had some fashionable stubble going on. He looked like he worked in Phones4U. 
 
 `` Robert Johnson?'' The man asked, pocketing his phone. 
 
 `` Uh, yes, that's me'' Replied Robert. 
 
 `` I'm the devil, nice to meet you.'' He said, shaking his new client by the hand. `` I understand you're interested in selling your soul?'' 
 
 Robert adjusted his glasses. `` Well yes, I am considering it.'' He fumbled with his briefcase and retrieved his crumpled contract. `` I've laid out my terms in here.'' 
 
 The devil laughed `` ha, oh no, sorry, we do n't need that.'' He chuckled. He touched the stapled sheets of paper and they turned to ash in his hands. 
 
 `` Here,'' the devil summoned a parchment in a small flash of red fire. `` I'm assuming you want the life success package? If you'll just sign at the bottom here.'' He said, handing Robert a heavy silver pen. 
 
 Robert signed. 
 
 `` So I'll be a success from now on?'' He smiled. 
 
 `` Of course!'' Exclaimed the devil, `` However, customer experience may vary and success may be throttled at peak times. Terms and conditions apply.'' 
 
 Thrilled with his new prospects, Robert thanked the devil and marched into Tesco for a meal deal. He put his items on the counter at the checkout. The cashier was an attractive young blonde. Robert decided to begin his successful life. 
 
 `` That'll be three pound then please'' She said. 
 
 `` There you are,'' Robert replied, handing her a sweaty five pound note. `` Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?'' 
 
 `` Fuck off, four-eyes.'' She replied.
