[ WP ] Have a meal with the Devil .

I sat down at the table. Honestly this was n't the sort of place where I expected Lucifer to have his meetings, but then, what did I know? 
 
 The shop was a little hole-in-the-wall deli, specializing in Greek gyros. Other than the shopkeep, no one else was around. 
 
 I made my order, and settled in for the wait. Figures that he'd be late. 
 
 Two weeks ago when I received the postcard in the mail, I thought it was a joke. Some teenage prankster with a sick sense of humor probably. 
 
 The card had been scrawled with a beautiful script, but the ink was of blood. 
 
 You are cordially invited to a luncheon with the Prince of Darkness, 
 Lucifer, Satan, the Devil, et al, on the First day of November ( Gregorian ), 
 this year of Two Thousand and Fourteen. 
 
 Please wear appropriate attire. 
 
 Refusal is not permitted. 
 
 Certainly sounded absurd. But I had the feeling it was legitimate when I tried to get rid of it and it kept coming back. Garbage can, disposal, shredder, the local dump... each time it ended back in my mailbox. Even on Sunday, when there's no post. 
 
 So here I am, taking the day off for a meeting with Evil incarnate. My boss would n't have believed me, so today I'm `` sick.'' 
 
 I seated myself facing the door, so that I would have a chance to see him first, but apparently there was no fooling the Devil, because from behind me a gorgeous woman walked past, turned on her heel, and smoothly set in the chair across from me, all with the grace of a panther. 
 
 Noting my startled look, she smirked. `` Why does everyone always expect a man?'' 
 
 `` I'm... I'm sorry. That's just what I thought.'' I stammered, trying to be polite. 
 
 So much for the Prince of Darkness. The woman before me was an absolute 10. Five feet, ten inches tall, not an ounce of fat on her, and a perfect hourglass figure. Her hair was a sultry crimson, though I was n't surprised. Gingers did n't have souls, after all. Each nail on her hands was perfectly manicured, and she wore no apparent makeup, though did n't appear to need any either. 
 
 `` No matter. How are you doing today Charles?'' 
 
 `` Er... good I guess. What's this about?'' 
 
 `` What? No questions trying to ascertain my authenticity?'' The Devil looked surprised. 
 
 `` Well, I mean.. are you? Real, I mean?'' 
 
 Rolling her eyes, she snapped a finger and set the shopkeep's eyebrows ablaze. 
 
 `` Huh. Well ok then.'' 
 
 `` Yea. Now that that's over with, I'll formally introduce myself.'' Satan whipped her hair out of her eyes with a shake of her head and extended her hand. `` You can call me Patrick.'' 
 
 ``... Patrick?'' 
 
 `` Is there a problem with that?'' A fiery light glowed from her pupils and I quickly shook my head. 
 
 `` No, no, no problem at all.'' 
 
 `` Good. Now, why do you think you're here?'' 
 
 `` You... want my soul?'' I ventured the obvious reason. 
 
 `` Heavens no! I stopped that program 20 years ago! Turns out, people do n't own their souls anyway. Could n't sell them if they wanted to.'' Patrick laughed and I glimpsed her perfect teeth, dazzled by their brightness. 
 
 `` Well, then what?'' 
 
 `` Simple. I'm selling timeshares and I think you'd love what I have to offer. Lunch is on me, of course, as long as you stay for the whole hour.'' 
 
 I snorted derisively. `` Really? Timeshare spiels do n't work with normal salespeople. What makes you think I'm interested?'' 
 
 `` Because you're going to Hell anyway Charles. I figured you'd want a chance at better accommodations.'' 
 
 `` What? Why am I going to Hell??'' I sputtered. 
 
 `` Look,'' Patrick yawned dismissively, `` I do n't make the rules. Well I sort of do. But I did n't make you touch that dog. My point is, for a price, you can get a great fire-side condo.'' 
 
 `` What price?'' 
 
 `` Your reddit account name and password, of course.'' 
 
 I stood up resolutely, and shoved my chair in. 
 
 `` Ma'am, you can go to Hell.''
