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The demon, a three foot high, leather clad mess of stringy bones and green
scales, hurries up to Fred's left side. "Got Steve processed!" he
cried. "That's great, great." said Fred. "We're getting another one any second, according to the system. What's your name anyway?" The demon stopped in mid-yawn. "Name? Never got a name. We just always did what Satan screamed." "From now on your name is Nostril. Since you look like a booger. Now get ready, Nostril, we have another client." Who is it?
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9/28/2003 9:14:45 AM
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