Super Bowl FAQ - Top Betting Sites & Online Casinos

I like to put a little money on the lions every year to win the Superbowl on the off-chance they put it all together. Do you guys recommend any specific places online to use? I have been using brovada but was interested in looking around for some "new user" bonus deals. What do you guys think?
And also.... FTP :-)

Hey guys, quick question, i am from upper DE, and I am looking to bet on the patriots for the Superbowl, because to me, it would be worth a lot of money to see the Eagles win one, and if we lose, I'd like some consolation money from betting, kind of a win win, even though you lose a bit either way. Is there any legitimate way to get outright on which team i think will win? I don't want any of the "Patriots by 3.5" spreads because that creates a scenario where there is a possibility we lose by 2 and I lose my money. So is there anywhere i can safely bet on the Pats winning, even if the return is a bit lower? Thanks in advance, Go Birds, Fuck Dallas

The /nitrogensports Super Bowl LII 10 Questions Contest is now live! Entry is FREE and a pool of .02 bitcoin in free bets (~200$) on https://www.nitrogensports.eu/ will be distributed to the winners. To participate follow this link: https://goo.gl/forms/g1BzYl6K8stFkZA42
Please keep entries to one per person per contest. Make sure to provide your Reddit username as this will be our contact point for winners. We will be posting your selections on Sunday February 4th before the games (6 PM EST) so that you can track your progress. Please message stander414 or post in this thread with any questions.
Make sure to check out additional (similar) contests on /sportsbook and in the NFL channel on Discord: https://discord.gg/D9EqhtC.

I did something I know I shouldn't do and ventured onto the bears subreddit. I was simply trying to see whether they think Foles or Trubisky will start next week and I was bombarded with tons of comments talking about how easy of a win they will have next week against us. I decided to put some thoughts together that will ultimately mean nothing.

Positional comparisons:

3 points for push, +- 1 for narrow margin, +- 2 for big margin. These are a combination of positional power rankings, when available, and personal opinion to fill in the gaps. QB Situation in Chicago and injuries did play a part in this scoring. Probably a bit of homering here.

Position	Colts Points	Bears Points
QB	4	2
WR1	2	4
WR2-5	3	3
RB	4	2
TEs	4	2
LT/RT	5	1
IOL	5	1
CBs	2	4
Safeties	2	4
Standup LBs	4	2
Pass Rush	2	4
IDL	3	3
K	2	4
P	3	3
PKR	4	2
Head Coach	3	3
	TOTALS	TOTALS
TOTALS	52	44

Other numbers:

PR = Power Rankings

Description	Value
Vegas Odds	-2.5 for Colts
CBS Odds	-3 for Colts
SH Odds	-1 for Bears
MGM Odds	-3 for Colts
DraftKing Odds	-2.5 for Colts
NBC PR	IND 12, CHI 16
Fansided PR	IND 16, CHI 12
NFL PR	IND 16, CHI 19
SportNews PR	IND 17, CHI 12
CBS PR	IND 17, CHI 18
SportsNaut PR	IND 16, CHI 17

These are some of the betting odds and spreads, included with some Power Ranking information.

Strength of Victories/Weakness of Losses:

Description	Colts	Bears
SoV	0	0.125
WoL	0.666	NA
Avg PR of win opp	28.125	26.666
Avg PR of loss opp	24.25	NA
Percentage Predicted	35%	65%
Pts per game	28.0	24.7
Pts rank	13th	20th
Points given up per game	15	20.666
Points against rank	3rd	9th
Yards per game	389.7	387.3
Yards rank	15th	17th
Passing yards per game.	249.3	270.3
Pass yards rank	10th	22nd
Rush yards per game	119.3	138.0
Rush yards rank	15th	11th
Time of Possession rank	31st	27th
Sacks	9.0	7.0
Sacks rank	6th	11th
Interceptions	6.0	3.0
Interception rank	1st	7th

I had to make up a weakness of losses category to do the opposite of strength of victory, which is described here. Basically both strength of victory scores for both team are insanely low. A high weakness of loss score is bad, and 0.666 is bad for us. I calculated the average power rankings for both losses and wins. The other rankings are courtesy of the Yahoo sports app.

History:

The Colts lead the series against the bears 24-19-0 all time. The Colts won the last meeting in Indianapolis 29-23. The Colts only superbowl victory in Indianapolis came against the bears, when Peyton Manning lead them to a 29-17 victory. The bears have won 2 of the last 3 meetings between the two teams.

My thoughts:

Neither team has played a difficult schedule so far, whatsoever. Chicago has the better record but the Colts have the more impressive wins. The familiarity of Reich with Foles should benefit the Colts, should the Bears start Foles at QB. On paper, it seems to be a pretty equal matchup and the betting odds mostly agree. I predict a Colts victory with a score of 28-23. I think the Colts defensive will make enough big plays with an uncertain QB situation and Phillip Rivers game manager mentality of 2020 will prevail. The Bears will struggle to get the QB pressure they are used to just enough for the Colts to edge out the win.

Honorable Mentions - Abram, Dan S., Jamie, Mike M., Theo V., Turbo, Wes
No. 10 - Alton Williams (Real World: Las Vegas)
No. 9 - Mark Long (Road Rules: USA - The First Adventure)
No. 8 - Darrell Taylor (Road Rules: Campus Crawl)
No. 7 - Derrick Kosinski (Road Rules: X-Treme)
No. 6 - Kenny Santucci (Fresh Meat)
No. 5 - Evan Starkman (Fresh Meat)
No. 4 - C.T. Tamburello (Real World: Paris)
 
C.T. carrying the Johnny Bananas backpack is the greatest highlight ever recorded in Challenge history.
 
Before the backpack moment, we hadn’t seen C.T. in three years. He was rumored to be forever banned after almost killing Adam King on the Duel II. On Cutthroat, when T.J. announced the heavy hitters twist and C.T. came walking out the dark, challenge fans all around the world were not prepared for what they were about to witness. C.T. was finally let out of his cage and Johnny Bananas became absolute prey.
 
If there were ever to be a logo for the Challenge, a visual image of the C.T.-Bananas backpack moment would be it. Picture this: Replace the Jerry West silhouette in the red and blue NBA logo with a white silhouette of C.T. mid power-walk and Bananas in the back of him imitating a backpack. Then, replace “NBA” with “MTV”. Now, you got your MTV Challenge logo. C.T. being at the front and center of a hypothetical challenge sports logo makes perfect sense considering C.T.’s athletic performances changed the landscape of the Challenge from a regular game show to the series becoming known as America’s Fifth Sport.
 
C.T. is the Peyton Manning of the Challenge.
 
Peyton Manning is the greatest regular-season quarterback in the history of the NFL. C.T. is the greatest regular-season competitor in the history of the Challenge.
 
Peyton Manning only has two Superbowls (and won his second one in his final season in the NFL, while being a shell of his former self). C.T. has three championships (and won his final one while being in his worst physical shape ever).
 
Both, Peyton Manning and C.T.’s regular-season career numbers lead you to believe that they should have had twice as much championships than what they currently have. However, their own blunders (C.T.’s boneheaded mistakes and gassing out right before the finish line on the Exes 2 final = Peyton’s choking) throughout their careers hold them back from reaching extreme success in the post-season.
 
To continue this comparison, Johnny Bananas is Tom Brady (6 championships). C.T. is the more natural athlete and talented challenger between him and Bananas, but Bananas has had the better legacy (Peyton’s the more talented QB between him and Brady, but Brady accomplished a greater legacy).
 
C.T. has seven of the greatest regular season competitive performances that didn’t result in championships.
 
The Inferno: In C.T.’s rookie debut, the higher end competition consisted of Abram, Darrell, Mike Mizanin, Shane and Timmy. C.T. won 4 life shields. C.T. led all the males in life shields and actually won more life shields than the higher end competition as one whole collective (Darrell, Mike Mizanin, and Timmy each won one life shield, totaling up to 3). C.T. was the best performer of the season as a rookie. He made the final challenge, but his Real World team lost to Road Rules in a close race.
 
Inferno II: C.T. was the life shield king. He racked up 6 life shields this season in one of the most competitive male casts to ever be assembled in Challenge history. C.T. led the season in life shields again, Landon came in 2nd with four, Mike in 3rd with three, and Derrick came in 4th with two. C.T. made the final, but he and the final remaining Bad Asses got blown out the water in a triathlon.
 
The Duel: C.T. won three missions and landed in the top 2 seven times. In C.T.’s third season, he was the second best competitor behind Evan, who won six missions (but half of them were due to having the superior partner in Jodi in comparison to C.T. having Diem). Despite being a top 2 performer, C.T. got disqualified against Brad in the final male duel and didn’t make it into the post-season.
 
Gauntlet III: C.T. was co-captain of one of the most dominant regular season teams ever, the G3 Veterans. C.T. was either the best or second best athlete on the team (along with Evan, the other team captain). C.T.’s performance in Piñata Pit (which I delve into later) proved what a freak of nature of a competitor C.T. was.
 
Rivals: C.T. managed to win two missions and landed in the top three overall six times with an average partner (Adam). Rivals C.T. was the scariest. The whole season was based around J.E.K. and friends trying to take him out, because he was such a force to be reckoned with. C.T. lost right before the final because of Adam’s performance in the T-Bone elimination.
 
Exes: C.T. and Diem won two out of eight missions, only second to Bananas and Camila’s three. C.T. and Diem made the final, but got second place. C.T. and Diem had the lead the whole final, but C.T. collapsed moments before the finish line.
 
Dirty Thirty: C.T. was competing in his 11th season and still putting up the best scoring numbers in one of the toughest male casts ever assembled. C.T. won 6 missions. That’s the most out of all males on Dirty Thirty (Not a single other player won 5, Hunter won 4, Nelson and Leroy won 3, and the rest have 2 or less). C.T. made the final on D30, but got third place because his gas tank can’t keep up with the other two finalists.
 
C.T.’s ATG Physical Strength, Aggression, and Athleticism is the most lethal combination in Challenge history.
 
If the Challenge were to ever have a Madden-esque video game, C.T.’s player rating regarding his athleticism and strength would look something like: STR: 99. SPE: 99. AGI: 99. A prime C.T. was a cheat code. The Bananas Backpack moment attests to this. Below are some other missions and eliminations where C.T.’s strength and athleticism proved to us he was of a different breed.
 
In Piñata Pit (G3), players from both teams had to jump in a mud pit, retrieve a ball, and return it to the starting line. The mission was played in rounds. Each round, there were fewer balls than there were players. Players were getting eliminated round-by-round. The game of Piñata Pit came down to the two best players on each team, Veteran C.T. and Rookie Derek McCray. You’re probably reading this wondering who Derek McCray is. I don’t blame you. Let me give you some background information on him. The moment Derek M. first stepped into the Challenge, he was immediately viewed as a competition threat, even with no performance log to back for it. Derek M. came into the Gauntlet 3 with instant respect, based off the fact that he had been recruited by more than 200 colleges for his football talent. Considering Piñata Pit contained all the aspects of a game of football: running, tackling, stripping a ball away from an opponent, and taking it to the end zone, the average betting man would’ve bet on Derek to score and win it for the Rookies. Challenge fans, however, knew to bet differently. When the final round went underway, Derek reached the ball first, but C.T. was inches behind Derek as he gained possession of the ball. C.T. then proceeded to slam him to the ground effortlessly and Derek literally yelped as he was getting manhandled. C.T, with what looks like half an effort, popped the ball out of Derek’s arms and took it back to the end zone to win it for the Veterans. In Piñata Pit, C.T. basically took the manhood out of a Division 1 athlete.
 
In the T-Bone elimination (Rivals), C.T.’s “Choo! Choo!” train almost killed Johnny and Tyler. It’s the biggest near death experience in Challenge history. I have a theory: We haven’t seen C.T. in a physical combat elimination ever since for good reason. I’m positive that’s a calculated decision by the Challenge Gods, not one that’s left up to chance.
 
C.T. faced off against Leroy in Wrecking Wall (FA), an elimination where both players had to punch through a 30-foot dry wall to make holes to climb up until they were able to reach the bell at the top. First player to ring the bell won. Leroy is an elimination beast; he’s won 8 career eliminations because of his physical strength and athleticism alone. He was no match for C.T. though. Anyone who watched the Duel 2, knows C.T.’s punching power is nothing to be played with. His punching power knocked out a whole wall on that season.
 
In the Flying Leap mission (Duel), players, one at a time, had to jump back and forth from one end of a platform to another that was suspended from a crane 20 feet above water. Numerous flags were hanging from poles located on both sides of the platform. Players had to grab as many flags as possible within a three-minute time limit; Whoever collected the most flags won. C.T. won Flying Leap with flying colors. He was the only male to not land on his body when jumping or not use any running momentum to assist his jumping sequences. C.T. instead showed us his athletic prowess, by setting his feet, loading his hips, exploding and jumping across, landing on his feet every time. Everyone on the sidelines watched in awe. C.T. made it look like a walk in the park.
 
C.T.’s All-Time Great Intelligence.
 
C.T. is the perfect two-way player. He not only has the brawn, but he has the brain as well. His long history of solving puzzles makes him an ATG intelligent male player. Below are some of C.T.’s greatest moments in which he had to put his brain to work.
 
C.T. eliminated Evan in Ascender (Duel), an elimination game in which players had to climb up a rope, pull a handle at the top of the rope, to release a basket containing puzzle pieces. The players then had to climb back down the rope to assemble a tiling puzzle similar to a tangram. C.T versus Evan was the second last male elimination on the original Duel. Up to that point, Evan was the clear #1 best competitor of the season and C.T. was the second. The two best players were going mano a mano. Evan got raddled under the stage lights (got caught trying to cheat), and the brain of the cold blooded killer, C.T. solved the tangram with ease.
 
In the Rivals 2 final, C.T. completed the puzzle checkpoint in a flash that Johnny/Frank fell behind in. Upon seeing the puzzle, C.T. straightaway figured it out because the puzzle was one that he played when he was hungover at a breakfast country club.
 
In the Final Redemption Challenge on D30, players had to read a code that provided a combination to a lock that contained puzzle pieces. The first two players to retrieve and complete their puzzle would return to the game, while the rest were eliminated. C.T.’s competition in this challenge was Dario, Jordan, Leroy, and Bananas. C.T. was the first male to successfully figure out the code and complete his puzzle, and re-entered the game as a result.
 
C.T. eliminated Darrell in Knot So Fast (Invasion). It was the last champions elimination of the season. The grandest stage of them all was set and the two all-time great champions had to rely on their strategical intelligence to win this one. Darrell put up a good fighting effort in trying to undo C.T.’s knot, but it looked like a physically impossible task. It actually was. According to Darrell on Challenge Mania, C.T.’s knots were so tight that production had to cut them off with machetes after the elimination was over. C.T. broke the Knot So Fast elimination. That’s how intelligent C.T.’s strategy was. The elimination win versus Darrell gave C.T. a spot in the finals, where he faced off against underdogs Cory and Nelson, who were fifteen years younger and in the athletic prime of their lives. In the final challenge, C.T. still managed to acquire his second season win and proved to the rest of the Challenge world that the underdogs were no match for the champion of champions.
 
C.T. has the All-Time Greatest Eating Abilities.
 
Eating is such an important trait to have in the challenge. It’s often identified as the most difficult portion of the final challenge each season. Players hate it. We’ve actually seen players quit in the final before because they couldn’t stomach eating disgusting things. We’ve seen C.T. devour all types of disgusting things without looking fazed in the slightest, that makes you question whether or not he has taste buds.
 
Remember the pickled fish soup in the Rivals 2 final? C.T. drank his like he was chugging a beer, while everyone around him was vomiting all over the place. Wes couldn’t bother to even taste his drink, so C.T. chugged it down for him.
 
In the Exes 2 final, C.T. ate the deer head and sheep blood as if it was everyday dinner. When he finished his plate, C.T. decided to go for seconds and helped Diem finish up her plate as well.
 
C.T.’s eating abilities are inhumane. Not only is C.T. known for downing disgusting foods in final challenges as if it were nothing, but he’s also known for winning regular season competitions where you had to eat a ridiculous amount of food (Toss Your Cookies v. Shane, eating the entire birthday cake on Race to the Altar in Exes).
 
C.T.’s first championship and third championships (Rivals II and WOTWII) were social-political clinics.
 
C.T. played his first eight seasons without winning the big one. It wasn’t until Rivals II, his ninth season, where he finally got his first challenge gold medal. As usual, C.T. crushed it on the field, but off the field, in the Challenge house, he played one of the best political-social games I had ever seen. On Rivals II, the opposite sex had control over the votes on male elimination days. C.T. was wooing all the girls, and they thought they were going to be apart of the next love big story on the Challenge. C.T. was never voted in because at least one player within four of the female teams had a fling with C.T. or were falling heads over heel for him on Rivals 2 (Anastasia, Cooke, Diem, and Nany).
 
On War of the Worlds II, C.T. was a member of the U.K. Team. He was apart of Cara’s Cult/The Royal Family. The physical shape C.T. was in this season was his worst ever, so him not ever being considered for elimination by his own team is mind blogging. C.T.’s social game was on a whole another level this season. My favorite C.T. moment on WOTWII is when he turncoats on Cara’s Cult right before the final and saves Tori from elimination to strengthen U.K.’s team for the final. C.T.’s political-social finesse on WOTWII rightfully earned him his third championship.
 
C.T.’s social-political skill, in general, deserves more recognition. Every time I hear people talk about C.T.’s eliteness, people only bring up the competition juggernaut and not the social-political mightiness he’s established over the course of his sixteen season career.
 
C.T. has only done three less seasons than Johnny Bananas, but he’s been in 11 less eliminations. Other than the first Rivals, I don’t recall there being a time where he wasn’t at the top of social structures. He has a whole catalogue of seasons where he was either pulling strings from the top or aligning with the biggest playmakers that were ones doing the pulling (i.e: Inferno 2 – CT was in a four person alliance with Derrick/Brad/Darrell where there duties were to not nominate each other in the inferno selections; The Duel – CT/Evan/Derrick/Brad each were paired with the best athletic girls and controlled the chain selections; Exes 2 – in an alliance with Mark/Robin, Johnny/Camila, and DunbaPaula that ran the game till the very end).
 
C.T. made history twice on Invasion and War of the Worlds II.
 
C.T. won his second championship 22 seasons after his rookie season. He debuted on the original Inferno, which took place in 2004, and won Invasion of the Champions in 2017. That’s a span of 13 years. C.T.’s Invasion win broke the previous record of the longest span between a rookie debut and championship win, that was held by Johnny Bananas. J.B. won his sixth championship 16 seasons after his rookie season. He debuted on the original Duel, which aired in 2006, and won Rivals 3 in 2016 (a 10 year span).
 
C.T.’s new breaking record was broken again by none other than C.T, just a few seasons later. C.T. won War of the Worlds 2, which took place 27 seasons after the Inferno, and 15 years later.
 
C.T.’s Overall Assessment.
 
If you read up until this point, I’m guessing a lot of you probably refuse to agree with my opinion of C.T. being the fourth greatest male challenger ever. Here’s my argument: C.T. is the greatest Challenge talent ever, but he doesn’t have the greatest legacy. Like mentioned earlier, he’s the Peyton Manning of the Challenge and I don’t consider Peyton Manning the #1 G.O.A.T. of Football (Jerry Rice, Jim Brown, and Tom Brady fit that bill better). In my eyes, Bananas, Jordan, and Landon are those three guys. The combination of their talent, winning percentage, and accomplishments fair just slightly better than C.T’s.
 
C.T. has just three championships in a sixteen season career. The rest of my top three have won just as much in a lot lesser time (Jordan, Landon) or doubled his wins in the same type of lengthy career (Bananas). C.T.’s temper and poor decision making tossed three years of his absolute prime down the drain (Inferno III, Gauntlet III, Duel II) and his inability to perform in the clutch tossed another year (Exes). That’s five seasons where the ultimate competitor, C.T., missed out on championships.
 
On the Inferno III, C.T. is cast on the Bad Asses; He was the best player on the cast, but he gets sent home the first night in South Africa because he punches Davis. C.T. would’ve been a lock for the final this season, he threw another potential championship out the window.
 
In the Gauntlet 3 final challenge, Big Easy cost C.T. and all the other final remaining veterans a championship win. You’re probably confused as to how this is C.T.’s fault, but he actually had a major hand in letting Big Easy ride to the final. If you go back to the first gauntlet deliberation where Johnny got sent in against Evan, Johnny plead to the rest of the Veteran males that Big Easy should have to go in, because he was going to lose them a final. C.T., who was the leader of the team, didn’t buy into Johnny’s plea; He had personal dislike towards Johnny and his reason for not throwing Big Easy in was because he loved partying with him. What’s the logic in that? C.T., the whole season was preaching about “trimming the fat” (getting rid of the girls on their team) and never worrying about Easy once was a horrific example of how to play a winning game. Prime C.T. was always finding a way to be the author of his own demise.
 
On the Duel 2, C.T. went into cannibalism mode. C.T. would’ve legitimately smashed Adam’s head and ate Adam’s head if it wasn’t for like thirty cast and production crew members successfully capturing him (and then tranquilizing him and putting him in his cage). There’s no guaranteeing C.T. would’ve won the D2, since the top crop of males this season was stacked. But this is an absolute peak C.T. we’re talking about, who’s in contention for the best men’s competitor all-time, so a championship victory is never out of the question.
 
In the Exes final, C.T./Diem lead the whole way until the final run up the mountain. Right before the finish line, C.T.’s tank ran out of gas (mirroring Peyton’s ability to choke in the playoffs) and he delayed winning his first championship for even longer.
 
C.T.’s competitive abilities (ATG physical strength, aggression, athleticism, intelligence, and eating) and his championship success in his career’s second half are sufficient enough to get him into the Challenge Mount Rushmore, but the four seasons he tossed down the drain in the first half of his career are a little too detrimental to have him in the top trinity. I think about it like this: Would I consider drafting Prime C.T. (Inferno - Free Agents) as my first pick when constructing a team in an-all time draft? Nope. He, was easily #1 in terms of competitive talent, but he was a complete hothead with bad decision making and only won one championship in ten seasons. Would I consider drafting Dadbod C.T. (Invasion - Total Madness) number one? Not at all. He’s won two championships in six seasons, with a phenomenal social-political game, but his competitive abilities are half of what they were before. Every version of C.T. comes with a small albatross that keeps him from having top three legacy.

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

Are you looking for a Madden 21 league with regular rosters? Would you like legends to come with the deal? maybe offseason rewards? Well, the Kings of Madden league is the place for you! We are a new league that consists of 30 active members and we have 2 open spots available. Now you may be asking, " What makes you guys so special?" To answer your question we have taken many concepts from other leagues and twisted them the KOML way:
- Pro day scouting and NFL combine profiles
- Offseason workout upgrades after each season
- Playoff betting (not with real money)
- The Superbowl highs and lows (If you win the bowl, there is always some controversy with it)
- Power rankings and playoff standings
- an ESPN Podcast tab for everyone
- Legends, age reductions, and X factor upgrades right off the bat
Now that you know the perks of our league, let's go over the gameplay settings and sim times:
- Sim is every Wednesday at 6 pm EST and Every Saturday between 9-10 pm EST (will change if there are holidays or if games are played before the deadline)
- All madden difficulty, 7 minute quarters, accel clock on, competitive game setting
- Active user check twice per week
If you are looking for a league that is Competitive, Fun, and Compelling this is your best bet by a long shot. Join today, We welcome Everyone!
JAGUARS AND JETS ARE OPEN! Now I know the teams are quite garbage in madden so if you join you will get one star to superstar upgrade to at least make the teams a bit more playable.
KOML discord link

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

*****Sorry this is super long ********
I'm a 26 year old female and I have been with my 26 year old boyfriend for 8 months.
We started dating long distance in February, when I was away for an AmeriCorps program the first 1.5 months. I moved between Texas and California and he was in Missouri.
I knew of him since I was 10 but ran in different social circles despite both being the shy kids. We went to different high schools, so I had forgotten about him.
My interactions with him started last fall when he was suggested as a Facebook friend and I added him. He would like most of my posts, so one day in late January after my breakup with my first boyfriend, I said hi since we went to elemetary and middle school and I wanted to get to know him. He replied and we talked a couple of days then I didn't hear from him for 2 weeks then he reappeared told he he liked me because I was his type (smart and introverted) He asked if would I be his girlfriend. I was stunned and needed time to think about it but he insited we should and we made a superbowl bet if our home team won I would say yes. I agreed since I liked him. Our team won and our relationship began.
At first, we talked daily on messenger and video chatted twice and called once. He doesn't like calls or video chats, so we haven't really since February. We primarily text.
When I got back home, we didn't see each other in person because of the pandemic and qurantine until April at a park. It went well as we walked, talked and listened to music in his car except for a disagreement about going to a hotel to have sex the first date.
From the first meeting onward, he treated me differently as in he would leave me on read from time to time for over a day or so. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and his space because he's working a bachelor's for computer science Monday through Thursday and works 12 hours from Friday to Sunday. At the time, he first blew me off, it was finals week.
When I confronted him about my discomfort about his distance and being worried about him, he joked I was clingy. I was embarssed by my behavior, so I shut up. His light ghosting became a pattern that went from once a month, to twice a week to once a week to now muliple times a week.
After our first date, he also accused me of not being sexually attracted to him or taking our relationship serious at 3 months after our first meetup. At the time, I was hesitant because I was a virgin and saving myself for marriage and didn't feel I knew him enough to compromise let alone did I want to get pregnant or contract a STD. I explained my hesitation but he saw my reasons as excuses and implied if I didn't sleep with him or I changed my mind after agreeing, he would end the relationship. I loved him by then at 5 months, so I said I would.
After that I got on the pill, and we didn't see each other until late June again at the park and again on July 4th.
He got his own place and he invited me over in August at 6 months in the relationship and I became intimate with him.
We have been intimate now like 8 times and he does not use protection, which despite being on the pill concerns me but he insits it's fine and he won't be mad if I get pregnant.
Since then I've noticed more red flags from the beginning. He never compliments me physically except for calling me cute or adorable like a animal or child and that's on rare ocassions even though he seems super attracted to me in person. Once I implied I hoped he was attracted to me in a passive agressive way (I'm bad with confrontation), and he called me Ms. Insecure. After that, I never had the guts to address it.
I do find myself very attractive both inwardly and outwardly and get complimented about ny apperance and hit on often but he is also an attractive guy who get's a lot of female attention.
What fuels my insecureties now is to this day, he likes, follows and favorites the same 2-4 womens photos on instagram and facebook who he was in the military with when he was active duty. He is now a veteran. We only are facebook friends and we don't follow each other on any other platform.
He also still keeps pictures with his ex wife up on facebook despite her unfriending him and having moved on with her new wife.
He's 2 years divorced and 3 years separated but was with her 7 years total. They were high school sweethearts and 5 years married.
His relationship status on facebook says that he is in a relationship but not specifying it's with me. I did at first have it to say him but privated my entire relationship status since he left it pending.
I'm his second longest relationship after his ex wife. Most of everyone else he tried dating a year after her was either long distance as in Thailand, or in another state like one girl he found out was underage. His girlfriend before me, he dated a week and a half and was someone he worked with. She was 18 years old and a single mother. He said things ended because she was immature.
We have no pictures together despite vacationing together last week for my birthday. I never asked him to take any since I wanted to see what he would do. When we did walk around together, he often walked ahead including in the airport to the point I got left behind and strangers helped me with my luggage. We never held hands or showed obvious PDA, yet people knew we were a couple.
For a long time, I blamed the lack of in person time on Covid-19 since I live with my parents and he lived with family before getting his place but now I'm starting to see he takes me for granted and might be ashamed.
He's met my mom and brother when he picked me up but has never discussed introducing me to his family or friends despite refering to us as being in a long term relationship, talking about the potential for marriage and children and future plans for when we're older.
We rarely argue and get along. He is kind to me besides teasing me time to time with dark humor. We have a lot of similarties.
Since being home, he's grown distant again. I have to message him first or a day or so will pass with no communication yet he's active online still. I know he's busy but on the trip we were irseperable. I can be pretty needy but we were together so much to the point I frlt smothered. We only had space when we slept or one of us went to the bathroom.
I guess, I'm confused where I stand with him. When I'm with him. I feel more secure and almost like I'm tje center of his focus but from a distance he makes me question if we're still even in a relationship. I love him and would love to get married, have a family and future someday.
I just don't want to wake up later on after years and realize I was a rebound for unresolved pain from his ex-wife or a placeholder because he never took me serious enough. I'm also tired of crying myself to sleep at night and waking up feeling heavy. I know dome men get distant if they are afraid of falling in love again after being hurt or if they are busy. I might just be being played for a fool.
Thanks to whomever read all this. I just want thoughts and advice.

https://www.cbssports.com/nfl/news/ranking-all-32-nfl-teams-by-training-camp-performance-ravens-steelers-among-the-top-five/
Any guesses as to which team rounds out the list at No. 32?
By Cody Benjamin
NFL power rankings are one thing. NFL training camp power rankings are another. And we're not talking about a typical pecking order, with the most likely Super Bowl contenders atop the list and every bottom-dweller rounding it out. We're talking about rankings based strictly on how teams are performing in camp -- on the field, off it, and everything in between.
Naturally, this kind of ranking still puts most of the real-life contenders near the top of the list. The Baltimore Ravens, our No. 1 team, for example, are both one of the betting favorites to win it all and clearly one of the best teams of this summer, thanks to solid practices from their starting lineup and a notable move to shake up their locker room.
But not everything is predictable in this special rundown. Some clubs, like the Las Vegas Raiders, are quite a bit higher than you might expect, solely because the talk of the town is, well, things have gone well for them in camp. (Didn't you hear? Derek Carr has finally "taken over the team" entering his seventh year in the league.)
So let's have some fun. Here's a look at how all 32 teams stack up based on what's gone down in camp:

1. Baltimore Ravens

Lamar Jackson only just recently threw his first interception of camp. Marquise Brown bulked up. Team leaders quickly but wisely escorted Earl Thomas -- sluggish on the field, distracting off it -- out of the locker room. This team is locked and loaded.

2. New Orleans Saints

So much for Drew Brees' offseason controversy derailing their unity. The offensive firepower has stayed healthy, the retooled defense has been energetic, and there's not enough talk about how well stocked they are for a title run.
Looking for some late-round picks that could win your fantasy league? Establish The Run's Evan Silva joins Will Brinson on the Pick Six Podcast to break down that and more fantasy tips; listen below and be sure to subscribe for daily NFL goodness.

3. Seattle Seahawks

Russell Wilson is feeling good. Pete Carroll is throwing shade. Jamal Adams is now part of their defense. Chris Carson is ready to go. Poke fun at their old-school game plans, but few teams are as confident as this one right now -- and can back it up.

4. Dallas Cowboys

No news is good news for America's Team, and outside of maybe Gerald McCoy's unfortunate injury, the 'Boys have stayed out of the headlines, with Dak Prescott, CeeDee Lamb and a loaded offense ready to explode come September. (Cue the Earl Thomas drama!)

5. Pittsburgh Steelers

It all comes down to this: Ben Roethlisberger is healthy. As a bonus, so is James Conner. The Steelers already own one of the NFL's top defenses, so if Big Ben's camp condition is any indication of what's to come, Terrible Towels will soon be waving across America.

6. Tampa Bay Buccaneers

What more must we say other than Tom Brady is here? Bruce Arians' plan to recreate a makeshift 2014 Pro Bowl roster has its flaws, but still, it's hard to watch No. 12 throwing to Mike Evans, Chris Godwin, Rob Gronkowski and O.J. Howard and come away unexcited.

7. Kansas City Chiefs

Make no mistake: They're still No. 1 or 2 in actual power rankings. But losing Laurent Duvernay-Tardif and Damien Williams weren't necessarily small changes. By Week 1, Patrick Mahomes and Co. will prove that camp headlines don't mean anything.

8. Green Bay Packers

Aaron Rodgers has been saying all the right things since Jordan Love's surprise arrival, and now it's incredibly clear, in practice, why Rodgers is still the guy. Does anyone understand how fired up this guy is going to be to prove he's still MVP material?

9. Indianapolis Colts

Philip Rivers is having fun again. Jonathan Taylor is a beast. And while Parris Campbell suffered an injury scare, everything else seems to be clicking as expected. We just might be underrating Frank Reich's squad here.

10. Los Angeles Chargers

Tyrod Taylor certainly didn't seem that exciting entering camp, but he's lit up his supporting cast with the deep ball as of late. Austin Ekeler is his typically shifty self. And the defense has a swagger to match the talent. An underrated contender?

11. Arizona Cardinals

At this point, the Cards hype might be a tad overblown. But then players started raving about how Kliff Kingsbury is running the offense at a "crazy fast" pace. The Kenyan Drake walking boot is a little concerning, but this is still an electric bunch.

12. Las Vegas Raiders

Somehow, some way, Derek Carr is out to prove the haters wrong again. But this time he's actually got a supporting cast. Tyrell Williams' injury isn't minor, but the way they filled out the RB and WR groups has already paid dividends on the practice field.

13. New England Patriots

You might think the Jarrett Stidham injury would send them falling down the rankings, but we all knew Cam Newton was winning this job anyway. The defense, meanwhile, is dominating practice, which should be music to their ears considering their 2020 approach.

14. Houston Texans

Don't look now, but a healthy David Johnson and Brandin Cooks actually make the Texans offense kind of spicy.

15. San Francisco 49ers

There's no denying their firepower, but these WR injuries are starting to hurt. Presently, these are the only fully healthy wideouts on the roster: Kendrick Bourne, Trent Taylor, Dante Pettis, Tavon Austin, J.J. Nelson, Kevin White. It's like a cast of forgotten faces!

16. Los Angeles Rams

You've got to hand it to him: Sean McVay makes one heck of a Jon Gruden on "Hard Knocks." Oh yeah, and Aaron Donald is still freakishly good. Having a healthy WR corps, including Cooper Kupp, has rendered them still relevant in the West.

17. Denver Broncos

The Drew Lock hype has been just loud enough. Considering how much change Denver is working with on the coaching staff, it's safe to say John Elway's squad is moving in the right direction. The K.J. Hamler hamstring injury hampers them a bit, though.

18. Tennessee Titans

Until they make the right move and cover up the Vic Beasley move by adding Jadeveon Clowney, they don't deserve anything higher.

19. Detroit Lions

D'Andre Swift's leg injury is something to monitor, and Matt Patricia does not deserve the benefit of the doubt, but he scored some serious locker-room brownie points by helping the Lions take the first big stand, at least in the NFL, after the Jacob Blake shooting.

20. Philadelphia Eagles

Newcomers like Jalen Reagor have, by all accounts, blended well with Carson Wentz and a redesigned offense. Miles Sanders has been sidelined for a while with a "precautionary" designation, though, and losing left tackle Andre Dillard was obviously notable.

21. Minnesota Vikings

They finally, officially lost Everson Griffen, who doesn't get enough credit for what he did opposite Danielle Hunter. And now, suddenly, there's talk of first-round WR Justin Jefferson taking a slow path to No. 2 WR duties. Call it a so-so stretch in the Midwest.

22. Carolina Panthers

Matt Rhule has this group clicking behind the scenes. Don't you dare count them out for a run at .500!

23. Miami Dolphins

Tua Tagovailoa is on their practice field, folks. That is enough to be juiced up about this franchise. But everything else seems to be moving at a slower pace, from the rehabbing WRs to the transitioning CBs -- like big-money Byron Jones, who's catching up on "D."

24. Atlanta Falcons

It feels like half the talk coming out of Falcons camp has centered on new tight end Hayden Hurst. It's hard to tell whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

25. Cleveland Browns

It wasn't just an injury bug that infested Cleveland. It was the whole hive. Nick Chubb is apparently fine after a concussion scare, and the offense is still due for a rebound, but it's hard to ignore big losses like Grant Delpit and Greedy Williams on the other side.

26. Buffalo Bills

It's fun seeing Josh Allen throw passes to Stefon Diggs, but lots to be concerned about here: Josh Norman's already buckling as a starting CB experiment, Devin Singletary's got a fumbling problem and ... the team's website writer possibly went rogue?

27. Chicago Bears

This might be resolved come Week 1, but why in the world has their QB competition been so quiet? For Pete's sake, if Mitchell Trubisky won't step up now, when will he? Meanwhile, Matt Nagy is basically begging for more kicker drama to unfold.

28. New York Giants

Not going to lie: Joe Judge taping tennis balls to defensive backs' hands was pretty clever. But if he keeps up the tough-guy stuff, this team's going to literally be running through brick walls by September. They can't afford that after so many injuries and opt-outs.

29. Cincinnati Bengals

Joe Burrow is soaking up the praise, which is great, but can we go one week without another A.J. Green injury? Couple that with arrests and/or physical ailments for big additions Trae Waynes and Mackensie Alexander, and the arrow is pointing down.

30. Jacksonville Jaguars

Maybe Gardner Minshew won some more fans by ... joking that he's invincible in the face of a global pandemic? But this team is largely uninspiring, starting with the fact one of their best players, Yannick Ngakoue, still refuses to play for them.

31. New York Jets

Good on Joe Douglas getting a bunch of nice draft picks for Jamal Adams, but what else garners applause here? Sam Darnold joking about staying out of bars? Adam Gase putting himself on a track to start a 54-year-old Frank Gore over Le'Veon Bell? Yikes.

32. Washington Football Team

Alex Smith making a miraculous comeback is a great story, but holy smokes, talk about an apocalyptic summer. From bombshell harassment allegations to high-profile cuts to internal strife to a literal team re-branding, these guys are like walking TMZ headlines.

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"

If somebody had told me at the beginning of all this madness that "Old Nick" was a nickname for the Devil, I'd have never ordered food from Old Nick's Pizzeria. Or at the very least I'd have read the fine print before I signed for the pizza.
I'm not that lucky or that attentive though, that's probably why I now find myself working in the Court of Abbadon the Annihilator, during the height of his war with Decarabia the Decapitator and before you ask, no I don't really know what demons have against short, easily pronouceable names.
I haven't been down here as long as some of the other folks I work with, but I've been here long enough to know to the score. Some people think of Hell as a big lake of fire with 9 circles or levels or some shit like that and I can tell you first hand that's a load of bullshit. Hell is more like a city with 9 districts, and each district could easily be it's own metropolis. Suffice to say, Hell is fucking huge, it's like Beijing's bigger, filthier cousin with a prison record.
Each District has a Lord, each Lord has a handful of Dukes that work under him and all of them ultimately answer to Old Nicky himself ,though he's not really the type to effectively lead if you ask me. The smug bastard spends most of his time topside selling pizzas, and only comes down here for the Provings.
If someone were to ask me what the Provings were, the best explaination I could give is that they are basically Hell's version of the Superbowl. Every 10 years or so the Lords of the districts all rally their troops and sharpen their claws for a huge week long, televised slaughter fest in the Devil's honor to prove that they still deserve their office.
I honestly don't think the boss man gives a rat's ass who wins the Provings. I think he just likes watching His cronies tear each other apart for his entertainment before he runs back to Earth for another decade while they pick up the pieces.
The end result is a bunch of petty bureaucratic dick waving and in-fighting among the lords over who's in charge while Daddy is out of the house, and the ones that get fucked over are people like me.
Another thing that people get wrong about Hell is the torture. Don't get me wrong, It definitely happens but it's not to punish us for being sinners or anything like that. It might have started out that way back in the day, but nowadays it's just another way to keep us working.
Most of us ain't even really bad people. I'm sure that Hell started out as the last stop for the baddest of the bad, but ever since Old Nicky got the bright idea to expand Hell's workforce by making deals with people, the number of people that actually deserve to be here has plummeted, though you can still see them around from time to time. They are not hard to spot. They don't all look the same, but they have those same cold dead eyes. I avoid them whenever possible.
Damned souls are down here are basically unpaid workers under contract for all time. Demons like to call us "the suckers." It's pretty much the worst way to spend eternity and trust me, the few friends I've made down here never let me forget that I signed up for all this for a fucking deep dish pepperoni pizza.
" A fucking pizza Larry?"
My friend Marc had laughed in total disbelief when I answered his question about what I was "in for" as the saying went down here.
" I didn't read the fine print."
I replied quietly as I kept my eyes on the filthy plate I was scrubbing. Me and Marc both worked the kitchens of Abbadon's Court, which was about as awful as you could imagine. Usually it was just the two of us and maybe a few minor demons on a good day cooking for and cleaning up after the hundreds of hungry Hellspawn that filtered through the court on a daily basis.
"I bet you feel stupid" he laughed.
"Not as stupid as you, least I didn't sign just to fuck a chick I had a crush on in high school" I retorted.
"Leave her out of this"
he said as his ears and cheeks turned a bright shade of red while he pulled another load of dishes off the giant iron conveyor belt that brought dirty dishes back to the kitchens from the feasting hall.
" I'll drop it of you will"
I said as I placed a dish that was now passable as clean on to the rack to my left and got ready to repeat the process for the four hundredth time that day. I was a machine on auto pilot at that point, and I really didn't even notice the sound of my demonic manager stomping down the hall into the kitchen on those cloven hooves of his until he practically barreled through the door screaming
"Craft! Larry Craft!"
He barked through clenched teeth as he turned his pale, misshapen horned head from side to side searching for me. I'd never seen him in a particularly good mood, but he looked especially pissed for some reason now his eyes were glowing red, and looked like they were about to pop out of his head.
I turned around from where I stood at the sink a few feet across from the door just in time to see him stomping up to me in a rage. I hadn't gotten to ask what was wrong before he started screaming obscenities at me.
" You cock sucking son of a bitch! You probably think you're some kind of big shot now don't you? Who the fuck have you been kissing up to huh!?"
He yelled.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb with me you insignificant little shit! I know damn well you'd have to have friends in high places to pull these kinds of strings, you think you're better than me? Say it to my face so I can smash your tiny skull into the concrete!" He growled.
"Look Barry..." I started to reply
"Barathor you ignorant shit stain!"
" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about"
" Bullshit! You think I'm going to believe that Abbadon himself would ask to see you, a mere human in his office by name, and you just have no idea what it's about!?"
"Abbadon wants to see me in his office?" I repeated incredulously.
Barry went quiet for a second and just peered down his nose at me with seething rage before he continued.
"So that's how you want to play it huh? Yeah Abbadon wants to see you in his office, he sent me to come get you. Follow me and you'd better keep up, the court's a dangerous place and I won't be held responsible if something unfortunate were to happen to you on the way there."
He said ominously before walking out the door without another word. I cast a backward glance at Marc who had a look of pure dumbfounded shock on his face before I bolted out the door after Barry into the dark corridor beyond.
The labyrinthine halls of Abbadon's Court were pretty standard as far as Hell's architecture went, high ceilings supported by grand obsidiean obolisks that still somehow managed to be narrow do to the close proximity of the walls. At certain points the halls got so narrow you had to squeeze past the obolisks that supported the ceiling to keep going, like somebody had built the place specifically to fuck with you
It didn't help that Barry was practically running down the hall like he was intentionally trying to lose me. I was wheezing like I'd just run a marathon by the time we finally made it to the office of Abbadon the Annihilator.
It was pretty unassuming at first glance. It looked like a big wooden door with a fresh red paint job and a brass knocker at its center. Directly above the knocker was a golden name plate that read
"Professor Abbadon PhD."
I didn't have a lot of time to wonder what a Lord of Hell could possibly have a PhD in before Barry timidly knocked on the door, all his previous anger replaced by obvious fear, like a child afraid to interuppt a parent in the middle of an important meeting.
We both stood there in utter silence for a moment before a deep yet soothing voice called to us from the other side of the door.
"Come in"
Barry went in first, and I followed him reluctantly. The inside of the office looked nothing like the rest of the Court. A spacious fireplace stood off to the left emitting a faint warmth and I felt carpet beneath my feet. In the center of the room was a polished desk that looked like it was made of mahogany, and behind that was a big red recliner upon which sat a man who looked like he could have been a mall Santa, without the costume. He was short and stocky with a thick white beard and rosy cheeks. He wore what looked like an expensive suit and tie and could have passed for human if not for his jet black eyes. He seemed to be pouring over paperwork when we cane through the door.
He regarded us with a warm smile when we came in and gestured to us both to sit down on the wooden chairs that were stationed in front of the desk.
"Welcome back Barathor, is this the gentleman I requested?" He asked in a jovial, friendly tone.
"Yes my lord" Barry said quietly
He nodded then turned began to speak to me directly.
" Mr.Craft, I'm very pleased you agreed to come see me on such short notice, I have no doubt you were busy, and I'm very grateful."
"Yeah... no problem, sir"
I replied somewhat incredulously since I had been "busy" doing slave labor mandated by Abbadon himself.
" Oh no need to be so formal Mr. Craft, I feel that business goes by easier when we're all comfortable" he said with a smile. Before pulling a mint out a glass jar on the to his right
" Would you like a mint?" He offered
"No thank you"
" suit yourself."
"Why am I here?" I asked, sounding a bit more annoyed than I meant to.
A look of abject terror flashed across Barry's face in response to my rudeness, but Abbadon himself just chuckled before he got to down business.
" Do you like your current state of employment Mr. Craft?
" What do you mean?"
" Your job, do you like it?"
"There isn't much too like about it." I said plainly.
"I thought not. What if I could offer you a better job?"
" A better one?"
" The best one, what I offered you the best job in my power to give? What if I made you a Duke of Hell?"
He asked
Barry nearly fell out of his seat in shock in response to that statement. If it was a joke, I sure couldn't tell, and wasn't quite sure how to respond. After a few moments of silence, Abbadon spoke up again
"Well? What do say?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.
" I'd like to know what's in it for you" I asked
" Ah, smart man. I'll answer with a question, and bear with me I promise it'll all make sense in the end. Do you know how one remains a Lord of Hell for as long as I have?" He asked with sincerity
" By killing everybody else that wanted the job?"
That made him laugh aloud.
"Yes and no, the strength to destroy one's enemies is a prerequisite to becoming a Lord, but in order to keep the position you need more than strength, you need a nose for opportunity, and I smell opportunity on you Mr. Craft"
" How so?"
" Earlier this morning, this letter addressed to you came across my desk, and despite my vast powers I am unable to open it."
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a pristine white envelope with a red wax seal affixed on the front of it, which he than handed to me with a smile.
" If you would read it to me, and then follow my instructions to the letter afterwords, you have my word that your stay in Hell will be far more pleasant than you have experienced thus far Mr. Craft"
I took the letter and inspected it more closely, only to find myself even more confused than ever.
Upon the letter was the official seal of the palace of Satan, and on the letter was the simple phrase
"To Larry, -From Old Nick"