[ WP ] You were promised streets paved with gold ... but that was far from the truth you found

“ So this is it? ” 
 
 Beside me, the red-skinned imp whose name I didn ’ t remember ( Beebop? Beezel? ) let out a guttural, smoky sigh. “ What does it look like? ” 
 
 Truth be told, I had no idea. I ’ d read books that described Hell as a frozen wasteland, others as a fiery place of damnation. Never had I read one where Hell was gorgeous. 
 
 The landscape before me was regal, diamond skyscrapers rising from jewel-encrusted earth. Beautiful bridges of platinum and sapphire stretched across lakes of liquid silver. Rising high above the gemstone city was a colossal glittering pedestal that looked to be composed entirely out of opal, and upon the pedestal was a throne that glowed so brightly the blaze almost had physical force. 
 
 “ Do this for us, ” hissed the imp, “ and, when you die, this will be your kingdom for eternity. ” 
 
 It was a tempting offer. I thought back to the letter I ’ d received: during a coffee-fueled programming binge late at night, I ’ d been minding my own business, hacking my way into the Government of the United States ’ file servers while at the same time evading their attempts to track me down and kick in my door when all of a sudden a miniature ring of crimson-black fire erupted on the left side of my desk and left behind an envelope. In the envelope was a flash drive and a long, detailed note written in what looked to be blood. The note had promised me a lavish Kingdom in Hell, a palace of gemstones, and streets paved with gold. If, and only if, I agreed to upload the data in the flash drive to the Internet. As soon as I ’ d finished reading the letter there was a flash of light, and when I next opened my eyes, I was in Hell with this bastard of an imp standing next to me, dressed in a tailored suit and spectacles. 
 
 “ So what exactly does the flash drive do again? ” 
 
 The imp ’ s face contorted. “ It ’ s an Ordinance of Sin. Back in the old days, we had a bunch of ‘ em, used ‘ em on anything we could think of. Adultery, murder, thievery, that kind of stuff. Anything an Ordinance influences becomes a one-way ticket to Hell. ” He snapped his fingers, pleased. “ When our Scribe was Reborn, though, ” - he lingered on the word *reborn*, spitting it as if it were poisonous – “ we weren ’ t able to write another Ordinance for two thousand years. We think he went to Heaven when he died the second time. Asshole. But we eventually managed. ” The imp grinned. “ What do you say? ” 
 
 “ So… if I upload this to the Internet… ” 
 
 “ Yes, yes, ” the imp said exasperatedly. “ Using the Internet will become a sin, millions of people across the world will be damned to suffer eternal punishment. It ’ ll be great fun! ” 
 
 I thought it over. It was a tempting offer. But there was something missing… 
 
 “ I was promised streets paved with gold, ” I said. “ Where are those? ” 
 
 The imp looked taken aback – or, at least as taken aback as one can look with giant tusks protruding from one ’ s face in such a way that one vaguely resembles an elephant. 
 
 “ Well… that was kind of a marketing thing. Gold is the sole provenance of Heaven, ” he said. “ But you will be a Prince of Hell! You will rule over thousands – nay, millions – of damned souls! You will have nigh-unlimited power over your sector of this dimension! ” 
 
 “ But you ’ re saying I can ’ t have streets paved with gold. ” 
 
 “ You could be Lucifer ’ s right hand man! ” 
 
 “ So… no streets paved with gold? ” 
 
 The imp looked distinctively uncomfortable. “ Well, no. ” 
 
 “ No streets paved with gold, no deal. ” 
 
 The imp ’ s jaw dropped open. “ You do realize this is a once in a lifetime – once in a MILLION lifetimes – opportunity? *Satan ’ s scaly, toad-spawning genitals*, man, you could be a Greater Demon! You could be immortal and spend your days relentlessly tormenting idiots! ” 
 
 “ Before you summoned me down here I was already doing that, ” I muttered. “ Minus the immortality. ” 
 
 “ So you ’ re rejecting our incredibly generous offer? ” The imp ’ s tone had shifted from genial to angry. He stomped his little foot. 
 
 “ Pretty much, yeah. ” 
 
 “ Well, in that case… ” 
 
 His eyes blazed with crimson fire as he shouted a series of twisted, arcane words. There was a flash, and I opened my eyes. In front of me was my computer, just as I ’ d left it, my self-written worm burrowing its way through the Government ’ s defenses as if they didn ’ t exist. I smiled. “ Probably slipped that bastard ’ s mind that I might have other offers, ” I mused. Then I reached for the dove-white envelope on the right side of my desk, still surrounded by a halo of golden fire. 

