[ WP ] Hell is suffering from severe overcrowding . The Devil goes to God for some assistance in alleviating this issue .

`` Lucy!'' 
 
 I hate it when he calls me that. He steps down from his crystal throne and his posse of angels part before him. The bright white light of eternal paradise spans endlessly in every direction. It ’ s headache inducing. 
 
 `` It's been a while, my friend!'' He's all smiles. He knows why I'm here and he's enjoying every second of it. 
 
 `` God, yes it has...'' I offer a handshake; he wants to hug. He always wants to hug. `` So, I-I was hoping we could talk... um... population.'' I hold his gaze, and his eyes tell me he's not going to make this easy. 
 
 “ Yea, yea— definitely! Hey, can I get you something? A drink? A smoke? Give in to temptation buddy—you know how it is, huh? ” He punches my arm lightly and laughter bursts from his lungs. His angelic lackeys giggle among themselves. 
 
 “ I ’ m good, honestly. I just wanted a quick chat. ” 
 
 “ You got it, bro! C ’ mon, let ’ s go to my office. ” He steps forward and places his arm over my shoulder. As much as I hate him, his embrace always makes me feel at home. 
 
 “ Yo G-man! ” A deep voice booms behind us. We turn, and a shirtless angel cups his hand around his mouth. “ You still on for a jam later? ” 
 
 “ You know it, Gabby. ” God replies. His words sound deflated, and although he tries to hide it, a grimace flashes across his face. 
 
 “ Wooo! My trumpet's ready for a good hard blowin ’! ” 
 
 
 “ Hey ooohh! ” He answers, throwing his pinky and ring fingers into the air. 
 
 “ Devil horns… I invented that, you know. ” Even I can hear the nerves in my voice. 
 
 “ That ’ s why I love you man. You always were creative. ” 
 
 A floating, luminescent rectangle is the only indication of his so-called office. As we enter, the world around us molds into empty light. 
 
 “ So I wanted to talk to you about… ” 
 
 “ Yea, yea – reformation, right? ” He cuts me off. 
 
 “ Population. ” 
 
 “ Right, right, I gotcha. So what, you guys feeling a little uncomfortable down there? ” He laughs at the irony and wrings a long white beard between his fingers. 
 
 “ It ’ s just that there ’ s only so many people we can handle, you know? Dante really, *really*, oversold our real estate situation. ” 
 
 “ I hear ya, but I don ’ t really see how I can help, man. I mean, Hell is Hell, right? ” 
 
 I was expecting some resistance. 
 
 “ Well that ’ s just it. Is Hell really *Hell* anymore? I mean, two-hundred years back we had a theme. Killers, fraudsters, witches—the clear cut ‘ bad guy ’ types. Things made sense. Now… well, there are some that just don ’ t fit. And don ’ t even get me started on the atheist problem. ” 
 
 “ No offense, but this sounds like a management issue. You guys should really get in touch with Purgatory about this. ” 
 
 “ Have you tried dealing with Purgatory? We ’ ve been sending them appeals non-stop for what may as well be eternity. The only things getting sent to limbo are my damn relocation requests. ” 
 
 “ Haha, man… you ’ ve come a long way. I remember the Lucifer who didn ’ t give a hoot. Now you ’ re all passionate and looking out for people. Where was this guy when I needed him to have my back, huh? ” 
 
 It always stings when he brings up the past, but I know he ’ s just trying to divert the conversation. 
 
 “ Look, your whole brand is based on forgiveness. I ’ m just asking you to forgive a few hundred million. ” 
 
 “ If I start throwing out free absolutions, this whole setup goes to Hell—literally and figuratively. Besides, I *love* a good confession, man. How do you think the Catholics will react if I start giving everybody prayer-less clean slates? ” 
 
 “ They don ’ t have to know about it. ” 
 
 “ They ’ ll know, they always know. ” 
 
 “ If there ’ s one thing I ’ ve learned about deception in my time on this job, it ’ s that if people aren ’ t asking questions, they probably don ’ t want to know the truth. ” 
 
 He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose for a moment. I see an opening. 
 
 “ Times have changed, man. Back when we first set this up, I ’ d have people on a fast-track to flames just for wearing the wrong fabric and eating shrimp. Your good book ’ s out of date, and people are too skeptical to accept any modifications. Look what happened to Joseph Smith—did you see that South Park episode? ” 
 
 He stands and cracks his back, exhaling and fluttering his lips. 
 
 “ Can you still beat Randy Rhoads in a guitar duel? ” 
 
 His question catches me off guard. “ I don ’ t really see what that has to do with anything? ” 
 
 “ I ’ m just kinda sick of jamming with Gabriel. The guy wants to play all the time and I can ’ t say no… I mean, we go way back. But the guy ’ s an endless source of dick jokes and I need to mix it up. ” 
 
 “ I can still play. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ll tell you what. You join us for the jam session later, and if you ’ re still half as good as I remember, I ’ ll take as many minor sinners as you can throw my way. The movie pirates and Bush voters—that kind of thing. ” 
 
 I ’ m taken aback, and try to subdue the grin stretching across my face like wildfire. 
 
 “ It ’ s a deal. You ’ re finally making a pact with the Devil, huh? ” I can ’ t resist saying it. 
 
 “ I guess I am. ” He smiles.
