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June 26, 2007


The devil wants to make a deal with you. But he's not asking for your soul.

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David: Game Over

The devil sat defeated at the end of the makeshift bar, inside the ramshackle hut of scrounged metal, in the middle of the nuclear wasteland, nursing his beer.

“You idiots,” he grumbled. “Nuking yourselves before we could pull off Armageddon. That was not the plan!”

The bartender limped over. “Quiet, you.”

“Or what? I’m evil incarnate. I could incinerate your soul with a single thought.”

“Go ahead. Do me the favor.”

The devil slumped back on his stool. “Ah, screw it. What’s the point? No value in souls anymore. Gimme tequila, and I’ll grant your fondest wish.”

“Barter only, mac.”

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Ted: The End of the Beginning

The Greater Circle: eighty-one men stood firm.

The Lesser Circle: nine women were ready.

The Inner Circle -- one man, one woman, and the Child -- began the dance.

The Child led them. The lines in the stone began to vibrate, filling their world with music. Each step was perfect -- befitting dancers who had drilled since they could walk. The patterns in the floor began to glow as the Power they raised began to pass through them.

As each dancer died, the Child channeled their Power into the Seal, locking the monster away.

The monster bargained for it's freedom until the last.

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