The plush zeppelin reception lounge atop the a77 docking tower was generally reserved for the highest status diplomatic guests. Judging by its bustling activity, ‘Red’ figured things must be very ‘interesting’ as of late in the old Holy City. Well he, being a bone-fide Demon aristocrat, being here in the Holy City and all, was proof enough to that theory.

‘Interesting’ is such an… interesting word, thought Red. In Hell it usually meant - well - that all hell was breaking loose. Red suspected that it was the same here in heaven too.

Docking Clerk:

P-p-papers sir…

A young clerk in bell-boy attire presented some docking certificates, his hands shaking.

Red:

Sure, kid. Here ya go.

Red signed on the dotted line - the papers entitled the refuelling of Red’s luxury battle zeppelin. It would remain under guard at the docking tower until his diplomatic duties in the Holy City were done.

Docking Clerk:

Sir, are y-you really from Hell?

The kid asked, looking slightly less panicked.

Red:

Yes kid, but I don’t know if they’ll still call it that… with the end of the war and all.

Docking Clerk:

Wow, gosh I never met anyone from Hell before. They said you were all… you know.

Red

Evil?  Ha - well kid, better believe it! Most of us are. But like anyone, ya never know eh?

With this, Red gave the most scary-happy-evil joker smile he could muster. The docking clerk’s eyes grew wide, his mouth popped open, and he made this odd little squeak. Red felt a little bad for the poor guy.

Red

Don’t worry kid, ah, here’s a tip for your trouble.

Red extended his bejewelled hand with a few guilders. The docking clerk seemed paralyzed.

Docking Clerk:

…squeak…

Tears sprouted from the eyes of the terrified clerk.

Red

Aw no kid, I’m not gonna hurt you - listen, bad joke - like I said, there are all manner of creature wherever you go - never assume anything, especially if you visit Hell someday. But listen, between you and me kid, there are no demons - never were. Only hungry and scared angels.

Observing that Red was expressing some form of reason - even (could it be?) compassion, the clerk took a deep breath and accepted the guilders from the demon’s hand...