Sympathy for the Devil

Well, there I was standing at the crossroads feeling at a bit of a loss, when he showed up.

I must admit I was surprised.

“Hey up,” he said.

I don't know what surprised me more, the fact that he actually existed, or the fact of his broad Yorkshire accent. His red skin seemed to glow in the cold night air and there seemed to be smoke curling around his hooves.

“Can I help you?” he said in the oleaginous manner of an over-eager car salesman, which was a bit ironic considering why I was standing at the crossroads.

“I dunno,“ I said. “My car's buggered.” I nodded towards where the car stood, bonnet up and smoke pouring from a very knackered engine.

“Ah,” he said. “Actually, to be honest, our kid, I'm not that hot on mechanical things. A bit after my time, if you know what mean?”

I nodded slowly and turned to walk away.

I'd hardly gone a dozen yards before he stopped me.

“I could help in other ways, y'know... for the usual fee?”

I turned.

Not that I'd ever had much use out of my soul as far as I could see. But if he existed – and he seemed to be doing rather a good job at it – then maybe the other one would exist too. I glanced heavenward.

“Oh, don't worry about Him up there,” my new best friend said strolling up to me and putting a rather warm arm around my shoulder. “He buggered off millennia ago... easily bored, that's him Once he's created something and got it working, more or less, he loses interest. Anyway, as I was saying....”

“Hang on,” I said. “What's with the Yorkshire accent?”

“Well... You've heard Yorkshire called God's own county?”

“Yes?”

“It's true. Obviously, I used to work there before we... He.... Well, before our little misunderstanding, so obviously I have the accent.”

“But I thought he banished you, y'know, to the other place?”

“Yes. He did. You've been to Leeds?”

“Oh, yes I have. I See... fair point.”