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"I get to fill my quota." "Quota for what?" "Quota for souls." Andrew thought about that a moment. "I don't think I want to trade that." "It's too late to change your mind. You see, it would disappoint my boss." "That isn't my concern." "Oh, but it is," the associate devil said. "The moment you said that we mustn't disappoint my boss, Mr. Beelzebub, you signed the contract." "I signed nothing." The associate devil produced a scroll from somewhere inside his flowing black cape, and unrolled enough for Andrew to see his signature at the bottom. "You'll have to come with me." "I haven't finished my yard work." Despite his protest, Andrew Bleighstone was whisked away. The world turned black, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in a long line. He considered leaving the line, but when he looked around, everything save the line was a void. Andrew waited in that line for three weeks. When he finally reached the front of the line, he stood in front of a reception desk. A devilish sort, looking much like Associate Devil Sybal, only fatter, stood on the other side. The devilish type spoke. "Name?" That's all it said. "I don't know your name," Bleighstone said. The devilish type said nothing--only stared. No sense of humor in this fellow. "My name is Andrew Bleighstone." "Welcome to Hell, Mr. Bleighstone. Please wait while I pull your contract." Having no other option, Bleighstone waited. Finally, the devilish sort returned with a scroll. He spoke: "Let's review your contract." The devilish sort unfurled the contract. He studied it for some time before he said, "Who wrote this contract?" "His name was Associate Devil Sybal. He said it was his first day." "Must be," the Devilish sort said. "I can't read a thing. His handwriting is horrible." "May I see it?" Bleighstone asked. The Devilish sort turned the scroll so Bleighstone could see it. He retrieved the magnifying glass from his shirt pocket and inspected the contract. "I can't read it either," he confessed. "If we can't read the contract, it is void," the Devilish sort said. Bleighstone sat up and rubbed his aching head. He looked up at the ladder. "I must have fallen," he said. He got off the ground and finished his yard work.
*****END*****
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