Well, I'll be damned if that doesn't sound like a good idea. [Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.] Or, you know, if it does. Bartender, the same for me.
Know what I call it? A bare fact. And, actually, I was referring to you specifically, Kemble, not "demons in general." Considering the fact that I've got one of your Fallen brothers living in my house and I like him just fine, whining about "racism" is patently ridiculous. Especially considering the source, since your big bro Lucifer basically invented it. "Oh, I hate humans, Daddy loves them more than me, boo-fucking-hoo."
[Which is probably not a smart thing to say to a demon, but, oh well. Ben's smited bigger and badder than this one. He's got quite a pleasant buzz going.]
Yes, you personally make me cranky. You annoyed a friend of mine, and by extension annoyed me. And that night ended badly, okay, and maybe I blame you a little.
Okay. Fair enough. [Simon knocks back a healthy slug of alcohol.] I'll be the first to admit, sometimes I come off a little irritating. The salesman thing, not everybody goes for it, I get that.
Man, if that's you being a "little irritating," I'd hate to see you when you were really trying.
So what're you sellin' tonight, Loman? 'Cause, you already know I'm not buyin', but it's funny as hell to watch you make your pitch and fall flat on your face.
[Ben laughs right out loud into his glass.] Suuuuure you are. Guys like you are never off the clock. You think you smell blood on the water now that Guri's out of the picture, and you're circling around like sharks waiting for me to slip an arm through the cage so you can bite it off. [Ben's ability to abuse a metaphor, let him show you it.]
Been there, done that. [He taps his calf with the cane.] Got the scars.
Mmph. Well. Believe what you want. [Simon gestures for another round for himself, pointedly not buying for Ben. Sometimes the soft touch is not what's needed.] But you might consider that if you weren't so damn antagonistic you might not end up with so many antagonists. Just sayin'.
[Yeah, well, fuck you too, Simon. Ben gestures for his own refill.] Hey, I haven't smited you out of hand. Yet. And if your side wouldn't start the shit, wouldn't be no shit. Fuck me, I can't even go to the mall anymore without some demon kidnapping me and making me think Guri's dead, or dragging me back to fucking Afghanistan.
"Give us your soul, puppy, and the torture stops." Because I'm gonna give it over to the side that hates me instead of keeping it on the side that loves me. Remedial Class morons must think I'm as fucking stupid as they are.
Sure. Sure. [Simon knocks back his drink.] And it's just . . . never occurred to you to question why Dad lets all this shit happen to you, if He loves you so much.
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[Which is probably not a smart thing to say to a demon, but, oh well. Ben's smited bigger and badder than this one. He's got quite a pleasant buzz going.]
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Yes, you personally make me cranky. You annoyed a friend of mine, and by extension annoyed me. And that night ended badly, okay, and maybe I blame you a little.
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So what're you sellin' tonight, Loman? 'Cause, you already know I'm not buyin', but it's funny as hell to watch you make your pitch and fall flat on your face.
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Been there, done that. [He taps his calf with the cane.] Got the scars.
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"Give us your soul, puppy, and the torture stops." Because I'm gonna give it over to the side that hates me instead of keeping it on the side that loves me. Remedial Class morons must think I'm as fucking stupid as they are.
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