In the depths of Hell, Satan was pacing.

Beelzebub stood forlornly at the side, listening to his Lord and Master lament.

"Where did I go wrong, Beelzebub?" the Morningstar whined.

"The fault dozzzt not lie with thou, Master," Beelzebub consoled.

"But it does! I read about it, an absent parent can have a severe effect on the fragile psyche of a growing child, and how absent was I?"

"Master..."

"How?"

"Non-exzzzzzistent, my Lord..."

"Exactly," Satan collapsed into his throne and put his head in his hands. "They're laughing at me."

"Who?"

"Who do you think? Those blokes Up There. When His son was made flesh, he went and did what he was supposed to do! Went and bloody died for the sins of man. All mine had to do was bring about the Apocalypse but oh no! That seemed a bit much so he pulled out at the last bloody minute!"

Beelzebub hesitated.

"In the child's defence, he izzzz, well, a child. Jesus Christ was a man grown; you cannot exzzzzpect the same level of...maturity..."

Satan scoffed. "Not only is he a failure, but a lippy little bugger! Who is he to call into question the ineffable plan? To snub what was written? He's a snot nosed little brat is what he is...humans don't know how to raise the young with respect anymore. Why, I would have beaten such insolence out of him before he could even talk!"

"I am sure, Master. However, there izzz hope for the boy yet, perhapzzz he could be...tempted? To a child zzzzuch powers azzzz he doth pozzzess, it would be...wondrous, no?"

Satan chewed his thumb sceptically and moved his head in a non-committal, vaguely circular motion. "Tempt the Antichrist?"

Beelzebub resisted the urge to throw his hands up in frustration and storm out of the room. He would let the doors slam formidably behind him, like a sullen teenager. He took a deep breath. He never got a break around this place. He was a Prince of Hell! One might almost make the assumption he lived a dark, reclusive life of debauchery and sumptuous evil, and one would be half right: it was dark and reclusive. And now this was what he was reduced to: thwarting an eleven year old boy. And coming up short! A new low, even for the Prince of Hell...

"Perhapzzzz, Master, leave him be, let him go through life withzzz all itzzz maddening occurrences; puberty, schooling, poor internet connections, lack of finances, thingzz that don't work even when thou striketh them... then there izz the social azzpect! Young males zzeldom consider conzzzzequences beyond immediate gratification..."

"Send a woman to tempt him?"

"A most comely one, my Lord..."

"When he's older though. I know all about this premature sexualisation of the new generation. Access to vile imagery, hooliganism, families falling apart...good job! But this is my son we're talking about."

"Naturally, my Lord..."

Satan nodded, satisfied. "It's not over yet, old bean!" he bellowed skyward. "Still," he addressed Beelzebub more quietly. "I'll never live this down. They'll be laughing about this for centuries..."

"Wankers," Beelzebub replied helpfully.

"Yeah...wankers..."