Demons & Pubs

A lot of demons come into my bar. What can I say? I'm on Wall Street. Typically my demons come  in suits and tuxedos, looking nothing like you've ever imagined. In fact, when I first started I couldn't even tell the demons from the humans (it's in their eyes. Their eyes are dark brown, but with little rings of orange around them. Terrifying). Usually they order hard alcohol, especially if it has a name like Slippery Nipples.

But today was a first. A demon in jeans, a v-neck t-shirt, and cowboy boots pulled over the jeans. I went to ask him what he wanted and he ordered, no joke, a Shirley Temple. I snickered a little. He shot me a look and I shrugged at him. You get used to pissing off demons when they frequent your pub. They are temperamental creatures, but shockingly good tippers. Maybe they think their good tips will corrupt me. Money is, of course, the best corrupter around.

"It's been quite the day," he said, "I started with a farmer, gave him a million dollars thinking it would corrupt him and turn his family against him. NOPE! His wife has a rare surgery and this was exactly what they needed."

I just stared at the demon. Demons usually only boast, bit annoying, but demons love boasting.

"Do you know what he called me?" The demon asked.

"What?"

"His miracle. He literally started praising God. Got to his knees and everything. Satan's gonna kill me."

"Aren't you already dead?"

"Well, yea. But you know. Figure of speech."

"Right," I said and turn to walk away.

"Then..."

I spun around. Guess he's not done.

"Then," he said, "I went to this young man's new house. It's small and disgusting, but he's proud of it. Saved up for a couple years. Real American dream kind of thing. He's been working hard to improve it. So I grew a fungus. All over. Thinking he'd freak."

"Well, I would," I said, trying to cheer him up a bit.

"Right?! Thanks. Well, turns out this kid is a scientist. The fungus was rare. He thinks he can harvest it to cure some disease."

I feel my heart beat quicken a bit with excitement. I mean, that's great news for my race. I try not to show the demon.

"Do you know the worst part?" The demon sighed.

"What?"

"I feel better than I have in ages."

I have nothing to say. A demon with a soul for helpfulness? I look at him hard, his eyes look a bit greener than they did before and there isn't a prominent ring.

"Sir?" I ask.

"Yea?"

"Can demons change?"

"Yea," he said, looking away. The conversation was over.

So, I tend to my other customers. When I turn back around he's gone. But, just out the window, I see a man with bright green eyes, a v-neck shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots look back at me and smile.