"Who are you?"

"The name's Crowley. And you are Aaron Burr."

"Sir."

"Why did you summon me?"

"To make a deal, sir."

"Don't call me sir."

"Yes, s—"

"Tell me what you need."

"I need to win a duel."

"Indeed."

"…You know of it?"

"Just a bit."

"Then you know why I need to win."

"Yes I do, but the price is one that does not appease you."

"I'm a man of honor—"

"You're a man who summoned a demon to save yourself from another. Do not speak to me of honor."

"I am sorry, sir."

"The price is ten years, Burr."

"But I can't do everything in that short a time."

"…What do you have in mind?"

"I have some questions, a couple of suggestions."

"Not even one of us, yet you already have machinations?"

"Yes."

"…Well?"

"You collect souls after ten years.
It's a bona fide contract.
They think they're fine,
that there's nothing to fear
that nothing can hurt them
'til the end of their time.
But what if, say,
an unfortunate accident
or illness, they fall prey.
They join the ranks
I get a thanks
and I die when you have my consent.
What say you to this?"

"Seal it with a kiss."

"…So?"

"Nobody needs to know."