“Tedious?” The demon juggler frowned. “What do you mean, tedious?”
“Well...” Harold raised his hands and dropped them again. “You're going to send one of your legionnaires to takeover my body, I will throw it out and quite possibly damage it and then we won't really be friends any more.”
“Are we friends, then?” Manoach added a smile to his beetled brow. It made him look like the last walnut in a Christmas bowl. “I'd be pleased to call you a friend. Just let one of my pets slip under your skin and we can be the very best of friends.”
“I just told you, it's not going to happen.” Harold folded his arms. He knew it was an aggressive stance but honestly, had the old demon collective not even researched him properly? He though everyone knew he was the son of Lucifer. “I just can't see myself as the public pawn of a petty dictator. If I was going to overthrow Hell I'd rather do it on my own terms, thank you very much.”
“Tch. What do you know of Hell?” Manoach took another step forward. “Whatever your demon friend has told you is probably untrue. You can never trust a demon to tell you the truth.”
“Like you're doing now?” Harold chuckled. “You're contradicting yourself, old son. All right. Let's get this over with.” He held out an arm and watched one of the shadowy daemons slip like an eel from Manoach and slither through the intervening space.