[ WP ] Satan is a single father trying to raise his son , who , in a rebellious phase , is all into peace , love , and harmony .

Ian, looked up as his daughter poked her head through the door. 
 
 `` Father, your 12 o'clock is here?'' 
 
 `` Send him in,'' he sighed. It was such a waste of his time. Everyday for the past, what? Half a century already? the boy had come to beg for mercy. 
 
 The boy slinked into the room, bashful. He always seemed to be trying to shrink himself. To atone for his father. 
 
 Frankly, it gave Ian migraines. 
 
 The boy spoke up: `` I AM, father of the heavenly hosts, the one-'' 
 
 Ian cut him off. `` Alright Lucifer. We've been over this. Just call me Ian.'' 
 
 What had Ian been thinking? 10 centuries and people were still calling him that pretentious name. It took a full five minutes to even say! He'd been so *immature* in 2nd century b.c. -the year he created the humans. He'd gone by God for awhile, but then every Odin, Zeus and Khrishna started using the name. 
 
 Anyway, the boy. Ian refocused in time to catch him halfway through his spiel. 
 
 `` You know how Luke can be. He'll never set up the meeting. If you could just meet him halfway- return to Earth maybe? He'd come around. He'd have to!'' 
 
 Ian had to hand it to him. The boy was genuinely pleading for his father's soul. But frankly, there was nothing he could do. Speaking of Frank, he wondered which of the angels was in charge of lunch today. He'd better wrap this up. 
 
 `` Lucifer, I'm truely sorry. There's nothing I can do. The humans wo n't let us back on Earth. They do n't want the Apocalypse to begin.'' 
 
 Another area where he'd been a little too pretentious. Now the humana would n't speak to him at all for fear he'd return. 
 
 Lucifer's shoulders slumped. He mumbled `` Thanks for your time. God, father of-'' 
 
 `` You're welcome- think nothing of it.'' 
 
 Ian was n't really. He was thinking of lunch, as Lucifer slinked back out, grabbing a muffin from the care basket the angels left. But perhaps he'd better let Luke know what his son was up to. It was a conversation he'd rather avoid. 
 
 Luke always thought Ian was judging his parenting. Sanctidaddy, he called him. Ian had tried sending him the avocado essay, but Luke would n't bite. 
 
 Ian, picked up his phone. He dialled 666. Luke picked up almost immediately, huffing `` Who dares interupt the feast of souls?'' Luke was as pretentious as ever. 
 
 `` Luke, it's dad. Look, I do n't want to cause the boy any trouble, but you should know-'' 
 
 Luke cut him off. Ian had tried to teach him not to interrupt, but monkey see, monkey do. 
 
 `` Just because Jesus is so `` perfect,'' does n't mean you get the right to judge MY SON. I'm so sick of your shit, dad. I'll discipline him how I see fit! You were just as harsh on me, when did you become soft, eh' old God?'' 
 
 Then he hung up. 
 
 Ian sighed. How was it Lucifer Sr did n't see? He knew he'd made mistakes. He knew he'd messed up with his Luke. Jesus was never meant to be a replacement. They were all his children. 
 
 He hung his head in shame. He'd lost his appetite. 
 
 He spent his lunch as he usually did- locked in his office. 
 
 And he wept.
