Deal$
By Me
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I’m not the first person to have made a deal with the Devil, but I am the only one to have done so more than once. I’d say about ten times, to be exactly inexact. You see, the Devil is not a genie, with their hoity-toity three-wish limits, nor is he God, who supposedly offers unlimited miracles—if you can ever get ahold of Him. When you encounter the Devil, you can bargain for whatever you want, as long as you’re good for it.
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Devil: Someone’s in here!
Me: Oops! My bad.
(10 minutes pass)
Devil: Okay, all yours.
Me: Sorry to do this to you in a 7-eleven, but are you the Devil?
Devil: Yep.
Me: Want to make a deal?
Devil: I’m usually the one who asks, but fine.
Me: I’ll give you my soul—
Devil: Deal!
Me: In exchange for unlimited deals.
Devil: See, this is why I initiate.
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Me: For another deal, I’ll take a Slurpee.
Devil: Really? You’re willing to sell your soul for a Slurpee?
Me: I already gave you my soul. Remember, I said unlimited deals.
Devil: It’s not a deal if I don’t get something in return.
Me: I’ve got $5 in my wallet. Can you make change?
Devil: Unfortunately, no.
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Me: I like the looks of that car in the parking lot.
Devil: The Tesla?
Me: Let me guess, you’re one of those Elon Musk fanboys.
Devil: What? No. I just think they look cool.
Me: Sure.
Devil: The rusted-out limousine?
Me: That’s right. I’ll drive first, but you have to take over when I get tired. That’s part of the deal.
Devil: What’s in it for me?
Me: The wallet’s 100% leatherette and all yours.
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Devil: I’ve been driving for four hours now.
Me: Only three more until we get to Montreal.
Devil: This is so not fair. You said you needed to take a nap the second we got over the George Washington Bridge.
Me: Maybe I would’ve lasted longer if we took the Throgs Neck like I wanted to.
Devil: But the GPS said—
Me: But the GPS said—
Devil: Don’t you dare mimic me! I’m the personification of evil. You’re just some normal guy.
Me: You know what, you and your precious GPS can go to H… never mind.
Devil: Oh, like that’s such a bad thing? Talk down to me all you want, but where do you think you’re headed once you run out of stuff to make deals with?
(10 minutes pass)
Me: I’ll trade you this limousine to be in Montreal already.
Devil: No trade backs.
Me: My sock?
Devil: Make it the pair.
Me: Deal.
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Me: I want to speak Quebecois French.
Devil: You sold your soul, among other things, to go to Montreal and you don’t even speak French?
Me: Je parle bien le francais.
Devil: Then why—
Me: Parisian French. Apparently, Quebecois French is a little different and I want to have an authentic Montreal experience.
Devil: And I get?
Me: My shoe.
Devil: Ahem.
Me: Okay, you can have both, but I also want to party with Drake.
Devil: Drake is from Toronto.
Me: Here’s my shirt.
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Drake: Big Red, what’s up, man? How long has it been?
Me: You guys know each other?
Drake: Of course—I mean, no. I went from being a Canadian child actor to a worldwide singing sensation entirely on my own volition.
Devil: It’s good to see you too, Aubrey.
Me: This is awkward.
Drake: What can I do for you?
Devil: That’s a question for the man in the bootcut jeans, and only bootcut jeans.
Me: Drake, you break out the ol’ rhyming dictionary. Devil, you take my pants. The whole pair. I’m about to become a star.
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Me: My song spent 1,000 weeks at #1 and this is the biggest mansion I can get?
Devil: Technically, it’s a condo. My condo.
Me: What?!
Devil: Blame the streaming companies.
Me: Don’t you own those too?
Devil: Yeah, well, anyway, rent is due.
Me: But I have nothing left to give you, besides a record-breaking nine Grammys.
Devil: Sigh, remind me to stop hanging around musicians.
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Devil: You look cold. Shall we go someplace warmer? I've got this hot spot.
Me: No wait, I want to be a normal guy again. A guy who doesn’t live in a fancy condo. A guy who isn’t known across the globe as Lil’ Naked. A guy who’s never been to Canada. Devil, can you make a deal with me?
Devil: I’m sorry, but you have nothing left to make a deal with.
Me: But I asked for unlimited deals.
Devil: We’ve been over this.
Me: What about something intangible—like my soul, but not a soul. Please, take my dignity.
Devil: We met as you were trying to sneak a tray of nachos into the bathroom at 7-eleven. I don’t think you ever had that. I mean, really, you have some nerve.
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Me: If you give me everything back—soul, clothes, $5—you can take my nerve.
Devil: Go to Hell.
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