"So you're going to summon a demon and date him." Red said from Henrietta's bed, his legs crossed as he looked through the Grimoire they picked up from a garage sale.
"Yes. I'm going to summon a demon and date him because I'm sick of not having any hot guys at our high school. They're all Justin Bieber wannabes who walk around all day touching their hair and sucking weed off of drug dealers." The curvy all-black wearing girl snatched the Grimoire out of Red's hands, paging through it.
"If I were you, I'd take the demon with a snake for a dick. He looked like a keeper." His tone was one of complete seriousness, and he added, "He looked like he would like a long walk through a beach ridden with dead beached whales. Hot."
Hen rolled her eyes as she said, "I'm not into the package. I want...this one. Fuck, look at that summoning spell. Blood of a virgin, intricate design, I'm going to have it tattooed on my chest." She mused, wiggling her fingers and clinking her multiple rings against one another in thought. "Antichrist. Hey, I could use my brother's blood. He's a virgin."
"You know your brother is a virgin?" Red asked, raising an eyebrow. Hen snorted as she slammed the book shut.
"Have you seen my brother? He's the definition of virgin. Anyways, I'm going to start drawing this out on paper." She sat down on the floor, taking out her pen.
"Satan blessit, would you shut up and follow what I'm saying? You fucking interns are the worst." A tall well-built dark haired boy slammed a box of bones on the table. The interns lined up around the table jumped, cowering.
"Manbearpig bones don't fucking go in the 'M' section of the bone collection. They go in 'Creatures', THEN the 'M' section in 'Creatures'. You got that? So when I need to get a fucking thigh bone for a spell, I'm not searching all over because someone doesn't know how to categorize shit because they've got the brains of a fucking slug." He grabs the box and pours it on the ground, then throws the box at the wall. "You assholes made me do that, so you pick it up. Idiots. Got it?"
"Y-yes, Damien," One of the interns muttered, stooping down to start hurriedly piling the bones in their arms. Damien stared at them for a moment until they froze, feeling his eyes on their back and making the little hairs stand up. "My Antichrist."
"Good. You didn't forget again, Assley." He turned and started away as the demon mumbled, "Ashley", which made him call over his shoulder, "Nope, Assley, I changed your name on legal demon documents. You were born Assley twenty years ago. Have a nice and awful day." He chuckled to himself, taking out his phone and immediately sent out a tweet.
"Fucking interns. Why can't I toss them all in lava already?" He paused, waiting for it. Yes, twenty seconds later, 2,000 likes. Damn right those fucking interns liked their own insults. They better. He was so damn close to kicking Assley into a burning pit. That snarky little asshole always talked back. Damien hated when they talked back. Didn't they know the hierarchy of Hell?
He pocketed his phone and then sighed loudly, heading for his room. He really didn't feel like doing the spell in the first place, but his father had recommended he actually try leading the interns. That turned into having to yell at the interns, because they couldn't do anything right. What a waste of a day.
"I think I'm going to go to Earth to remind myself Hell isn't the most depressing place." He muttered under his breath, glancing at his phone again. "...yeah, feeling like tacos."