Saturday, November 1, 2008
A Distasteful Suggestion
Lord Azazel turned up last night. I almost threw a pineapple flan in his face because I thought it was one of the local kids dressing up for hallow’een. I’m rather glad I didn’t. Custard pie-ing the Lord of the Fifth legion of Hell is a really unfortunate way to get promoted.*
We managed to hide his arrival from the others (“Ha ha, good costume! Have some licorice”) and Gillian and I led him to the garden shed. It took a while for him to get to the point of what he wanted, though Gillian guessed at once. A favour owed from two years ago was due.
He wants a baby.
Not just any baby, either. It has to be of Harold’s bloodline. Since Harold doesn’t have a baby, what exactly was he proposing?
Gillian’s face went pale. I think she was desperate to be ill.**
**Paler than usual, I mean