Knock knock
“Entrée.”
Brief pause…knock knock.
“Entrée, entrée.”
Longer pause.
Angrily, “Enter…COME IN.”

Somewhere perceived to be far below the surface of the earth a figurative door opens revealing a rather nervous servant of Satan.
“E-N-T-R-E`. French you know. French, like all those idiots in section C9. Can you speak French?”
Nervous shake of head.
“No? So I suppose you have no idea what I’ve just said, right?”
Again, nervous shake, this time of the whole body.
“Well it means COME THE FUCK INSIDE. What do think, that I was going to go through all of this preparation so that we could end up somewhere on the European continent without being able to speak the language? I’m sure you snivelling fools would have got quite a kick out of that one – the whole of Armageddon falls apart on account of some frog taking us all for a bunch of American tourists. That would be pretty fucking funny wouldn’t it? I’m sure you and your cronies have been fantasizing about that one for a while. I can see you all sitting in your little fucking holes in the pit, chuckling away into the early hours, conjuring up visions of your supreme leader, the Dark fucking Lord himself, falling flat on his face when he eventually comes face to face with that fat twat from upstairs. Fuck sake, I should never have agreed to this stupid fucking idea. That cunt always has something up sleeve. He always thinks up these silly little games and makes a complete ass out of me. What a con. And what’s worse is that I walk straight into it every time. It’s always the same thing. We’ll just have finished some daft ‘war of biblical proportions’, as he likes to call them, where he has had a nice bit of fun kicking my ass, again, and he’ll invite me and the wife over for dinner. And I’m like ‘no problem, as long you don’t pester me about another one of these stupid games of yours because I’m sick of this shit’ and he’s like ‘don’t be so paranoid ,man, like it’s just dinner’. So what do I do, what the fuck to I do, I tell the wife that we’re going over there for dinner, and she’s like ‘I’m not having dinner with that fat prick. You can go but if you come back having signed another one of those contracts I’m going to take your lovely little fork and shove it up your ass’. And I’m like ‘chill baby, it’s not like that’. But what happens, I go over there and it’s a great fucking meal. Don’t get me wrong, he serves up the best food you’re ever likely to eat. But that slimy bastard just starts sending down a bit of booze. You know, a couple pints before we start eating then some of that red wine of his, then some desert shit until eventually we’re pushing back bottles of vodka, the real shit, from fucking Russia. Next thing you know we’re just of our heads and we’re laughing and ranting about the last little game of his. He’s going on like ‘I kicked your ass bad this time, man, kicked it so fucking hard that you’re gonna have to shit through your mouth from now on’. And I’m also wasted by then, so I’m like ‘Man, I’ll kick your fat fucking ass any fucking day’, you know how it goes. It just goes on and on like that until I wake up in the morning with my head about to split right open and next to me is one of those contracts with my signature on it and I’m like ‘oh for fuck sake, I cant believe that obese piece of shit suckered me again’.

And that’s just the way it happened this time. I woke up with this contract in my hand and I felt like one those youngsters who goes out for their first drink but he goes to the wrong place and wakes up in the park the next morning with R5 in his hand and a used condom up his ass. This time, though, it was too much for the wife. By the time I got out of bed her bags were packed and she was just like ‘fuck you, man, you’ll never learn. I’ve had enough of this bullshit, I’m going to live with my sister until you sort yourself out. And she’s right, because it’s just 6000 years waiting for that big ass kicking. He always wins the toss and gets to create the playing fields and the creatures and all that shit. Then he just starts building and building and letting you think you’re ahead until the last minute when he just steps up to Armageddon and beats the crap out of you.

This time I really though I had him, man. Fucked with Adam and Eve so badly that he had to get rid of them and close down that whole Eden place. Man, I had him on the fucking ropes, I was like Muhammad fucking Ali. But then he pulls that shit with the flood. What is that? I was all over him and then he sends me the rule book and says something about this clause and that subsection and before I know what’s happening he just starts flooding the whole place. So while all my work goes down the toilet he’s sitting pretty because he’s got this dude Noah down there whose just parking off in this boat waiting for dry land. And I know I’m fucked, but what can you do, you can’t just quit, and so I play on, and I start getting somewhere, you know. I start getting all them pagans taking over the world and even when he sends his kid into the game – can you believe that shit – I deal with him. I stick him on a piece of would just like he deserves. I mean what is that, letting your kid wonder around like that. I don’t know, I think that Jesus gets away with a bit too much for his own good. ‘Cause what happens, he goes crying to his man who, as usual, caves in and tries some body switch that fucks up horribly and suddenly the whole fucking world thinks that this kid has been resurrected and is now some sort of saviour and they start praying to him and shit. I mean, how the fuck do you deal with that shit. There’s no fucking way. So I just sit back and wait for the ass kicking. I dabble a bit and fuck with a few people’s minds, but in the end there’s no chance I can get all those freaks back onto my side. But thank fuck it’s almost over, these last two thousand years have been a load of crap. I jus hope we can put up decent fight in the end. If we get our asses whipped like the last time, I don’t think I could deal with it. I mean, what was that flood bullshit in the first place… ”
“Um, Sir.”
“Huh…um…right so I’m not leaving anything to fucking chance. We’re doing languages, cultures, the works. You and your fools better get your selves up to fucking speed or I’m gonna come down there and beat it into to you. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Pause.
“Sir.”
“You still here?!”
“Uh…yes Sir…you…you see Sir…”
“SPIT IT OUT.”
“Uh…uh…um…you see Sir…there…um…there might be a slight delay.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well…you see Sir…we…uh…seem to have a bit of a labour problem. There seems like the was a, um, glitch, uh, a very small glitch, in admin, Sir. They, uh, it looks like they sent a trade unionist down into the pit, Sir. I…I…I really don’t know how it happened Sir…I…”

“You’d better leave now.”

“Yes Sir.”